#let the man fuck and ride his tricycle

[alien-the-ghost]

I see the whole "Copia is such an innocent baby virgin" thing a lot, based on his neurodivergent and awkward traits.

But I also am seeing a lot of people say "Copia is absolutely not an innocent virgin, I don't understand why people keep saying he's autistic."

Both of these statements infantilise autistic people and it's getting a little frustrating, as someone who is autistic.

Copia exhibits both autistic traits AND is very very likely sexually active. Being autistic and having weird interests does not make you incapable, I'm surprised that I'm seeing so much of this.

[writingjourney]

RHRN spoilery talk

(about grief and mental health and the ending, the way I see the movie and why I love it so much)

I am feeling so many things about the fact that Copia was so unwell and anxious during the movie, trying to push away the reality of the end of his time as Papa as well as the visible signs of illness in Sister, that he dissociated the moment he stepped off stage, that he saw her sitting in a regular chair instead of the wheelchair, blended out the doctors and IV bags to see her how he wanted to see her, this strong powerful woman who has been by his side, pushing him, and who he only recently learned was his actual mother. It is so very easy to get lost in your anxiety about the future, in the anticipatory grief of what you'll lose, struggling to stay mindful and here where you have actual power over your life.

And looking back at the chapters this is what he has been doing, clinging to his little comforts (think of the whipped cream moment in the movie vs. the video games, the tricycle rides, the movie scene re-enactments), pushing away unwanted thoughts (not doing his taxes, the fact that neither his father nor his mother openly admitted to the parentage despite all signs being there, letting him float in uncertainty), playing it off like he's cool about everything while feeling dread and anxiety on the inside the closer he comes to the end of his era and presumed death (think of the coffin scene, the intro to the movie).

This man had no family so he picks role models that are close to him and suddenly when he learns that they were family all along he loses them, learns that he has been lied to most of his life and worked hard for others, to fill their shoes (first his father, now his mother). Despite Nihil treating him awfully he continuous to try and reach for approval for his achievements which he does not even get by the end as he's promoted ("I hope this new guy doesn't disappoint like you did"). He will never get emotional fulfilment from his father despite having small bonding moments, something that is fucking hard to accept and that he brushes off by throwing silly insults at him because it hurts. Because yeah, this is the type of pain that makes you feel like a child searching for breadcrumbs of affection from parents who do not know how to meet your emotional needs.

I feel just incredibly seen by all of this, the grief, dealing with sick relatives, emotional neglect, absent fathers you try to get love from but never will, lack of familial support, depression, trying to hold on to what comforts you in the darker moments, struggling to stay present in the face of anxiety and the world at large. I know this plot means little to some people, that you'd wished for more drama or something different altogether, but I feel like if you paid attention to the chapters then this is only the natural progression, the natural conclusion of his arc. It is very raw if you look past the comedic relief, and it is very well done in a way that keeps the campy, silly vibes of the chapters while still approaching these subjects in a very tangible, relatable way. It just makes me love the band even more.

[ooffmlsorry]

One Piece Men Driving (you around)

monster trio

A/N: I don't know a lot about Kid but I thought I'd give a shot anyway :I I'm really sorry if he's OOC

LAW

Would make a great get away driver honestly, like he genuinely has a great understanding of driving/the road and hardly ever gets lost and he knows you think that's hot

He drives SO FAST like WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? This man actively considers the speed limit a challenge

For that reason he's either always early or on time to pick you up...but somehow suspiciously late getting you home 😉

8/10 times he's in charge of the music, it depends on your taste and his mood honestly. If you don't have the same music taste, he'll grin and bear it because he loves you, really you're torturing this man

Yeah he drives really fast but never in a school zone or neighborhood, he takes that really seriously

Acts like it's a big pain to drive you around but secretly loves it and always claims he was headed that way even if he wasn't

Loves late night drives with you that end in some empty parking lot to talk for hours or make out or both

The two of your are menaces to late night convenience store clerks

Loves holding your hand or keeping a hand on your thigh while driving

Keeps his car pretty clean except for all the coffee cups and energy drink cans on the floor in the backseat that he thinks you don't notice

KID

His car > you sorry not sorry

Drives a loud, obnoxious hot rod

Drives like a MANIAC and LOVES IT. Fuck it we ball, if y'all die then y'all die. This man is not afraid to take a risk and you know that

That being said he'd probably never put you in real danger

"Oh look, y/n there's some kids riding their bikes. LET'S HIT 'EM!!" does not actually hit the kids but definitely keeps a point score in his head as if he did. "You know I just missed 40 points for you, tricycles are worth more."

Doesn't let you drive it but thinks you look totally hot behind the wheel

Gets there when he gets there, babe, but wherever you're going you're going in style

Genuinely loves blasting the music when he's near you so you know he's on the way

The best part of driving with him is being obnoxiously loud and wild and free together

Acts like he's gonna crash just to mess with you a little

Drag races for sure

Secretly prefers your company over everyone else's while tinkering with the car y'all have definitely fucked on top of it like he just likes having you in presence while he works, it kind of puts him at peace

There's definitely some kind of detail that's an homage to you and any sort of decoration you buy that he can put in his car he will

ACE

I'm so serious DO NOT distract this man

It takes every last brain cell he has not to fuck up

Like when he's alone he's fine, but as soon as another person's in the car with him he gets so distracted especially with you

He can't help it he's just so happy to see you and talk to you and look at you and whoops! There was the exit he was supposed to take

He's either picking you up a half an hour early or twenty minutes late there's no in between

Y'all share the music but he can listen to just about anything just don't put on anything boring

You already know the deal, if y'all end up going out to eat you're driving home because he's absolutely asleep

Definitely prefers back roads and intentionally takes the "long way" so he can spend more time with you

Of course there's a 50/50 chance y'all are gonna get real lost anyway so either way he's spending more time with you

Gets really embarrassed anytime he fucks up so don't backseat drive because it'll only make it worse

King of Normalize Hitting the Curb™️

Loves a good snack run

[dr-spectre]

Gamers since its Halloween I wanna briefly talk about my biggest guilty pleasure ever!!!

And you guys aren't gonna believe it...

It's.... it's Saw.

Yeah the fucking Splatoon guy who loves girlypop Idols and cute shit is also into one of the most gory and brutal franchises of all time. I have range!!!

I love all of these movies, Saw 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7/3D/The Final Chapter, Jigsaw, Spiral and Saw X.

These movies are the equivalent of junk food. It's like each Saw movie is a different flavour of a doughnut you would get at a 7/11. Sure, there are WAY BETTER doughnuts out there and it's not healthy for you, but MY GOD! THOSE DOUGHNUTS BE HITTING DIFFERENT WHEN YOU'RE IN THE MOOD FOR THEM!!!

Saw 1 to 3 I would actually consider good to decent movies. I would recommend the first one to most people.

Saw 4 and 5 are... boring. They got some good traps but they are just.... boring!!!!

Saw 6? That's pretty good... I like the unique angle they took with the criticism of the American healthcare system.

Saw 7.... you wanna hear a hot take? I enjoy that one. It's so bad that it's good in my eyes. It's just pure trash that it rolls back around to being enjoyable.

Jigsaw, that movie sucks I'm sorry HAHAHA! NO STYLE! NO GOOD TRAPS! PLOT HOLES ALL OVER THE PLACE! That movie was not made with love AT ALL!!! But... I do like that giant spiral trap... and the laser collars are fucking dumb as hell but I love em.

Spiral? Eeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh.... I meannnnn.... it's got some decent traps? The uh... the finger trap was cool! The... train one! I like that one... um.... the hot wax one is dumb but the concept is fine enough I guess? The puppet trap with the blood needles is one of the only traps I can't watch because sucking blood with needles makes me lightheaded. The other trap that i cant watch is The Rack. (Also, don't fucking hire Chris Rock in any serious role ever again.)

Saw X... I like that one. It truly felt like a return to the series, even down to the fucking ASPECT RATIO they filmed in!!! Thats good attention to detail!!! And the traps were actually good and memorable, well, most of them. Seeing John Kramer back as the focus is awesome too and Amanda... it was so nice seeing her again.

So yeah, I don't have much to say because my Saw fixation only appears once in a blue moon so I dont remember much. But when it strikes? Oh it STRIKES ALRIGHT!

Only watch Saw 1 and MAYBE Saw 2 and 3 if you're curious. These movies aren't for most people and I don't recommend it to everyone.

Also, I love Billy. He's such a silly guy. I love how he rides in with his tricycle!!!!

I love him in Saw X where he delivered the surgery tools so that a man can cut open his brain! And in Saw 4 where his head became a shotgun!!! And in Saw 1 where he rides in after a traumatised woman cuts open a person's stomach to stop their skull from being utterly destroyed!!! And in Saw 2 where he laughs at some police officers getting killed by a set of deadly stairs and an electric fence. And in Jigsaw where he watches people getting hanged!!!! And in Saw 6 where he swoops in from a wire around his neck and laughs at a guy who has to choose who's he gonna let die. And in Saw 7 where he crashes through a window in a cage to tell a guy to stab himself with spikes to stop a woman from getting impaled on a giant wheel!!!

[iguessitsjustme]

Love Sea Ep 4 & 5 Thoughts

Okay. As I’m writing this, I know I’ve been gone from tumblr for at least a week (I was back(ish) a day earlier than expected. Weeeeee) Possibly more. So it’s been a minute since at least episode 4 aired. So I’m lumping it in with my episode 5 watch next week. And if y’all think just because I’m not on tumblr, I’m not liveblogging…well of course I am. My wrist does hurt though so I’m not sure how talkative I’ll be. I am also having a bad brain day and I have had a whole weekend full of absolute shit. And my week is going to be…tiring. I’ll be on a plane, a road trip in a car, and then a train. All in the span of like…4-5 days. Don’t ask. Anyway that will be in the past by the time I post this. Time to watch. As always, liveblog under the cut and will likely have criticism. You’ve been warned before you click:

“Every meeting ends with a farewell” please tell me they aren’t going to try to be deep right now. They have not done nearly enough to build up Rak’s side of feelings for me to believe he’s feeling introspective at leaving this place. He pretty much hated it here for the most part. I could maybe understand if it was Mut since he just apparently immediately fell in love because he believes in love. And believing in love means automatically falling in love with the standoffish guest that you’ve been fucking.

Okay the heart of my issue with Rak and Mut can be perfectly encapsulated in this scene where Rak learns that Mut has a pickup truck. “And did I ever tell you I didn’t have a pickup?” Sir, what you feel for Rak is not love. Because if you actually loved him and cared for him, you would have heard his complaints about the motorcycle and the cargo tricycle and used the pickup truck for him instead. He literally told you the motorcycle hurt him to ride and still you did nothing. Because it means more for you to have this weird sense of superiority over Rak than it does to make sure he’s comfortable and not in literal pain. I had a more caring relationship with my former coworker than this. Because I did something where I thought I was in the right but it was a petty argument and honestly, I could see how much she was hurting from it. So I apologized and I let her know that she was more important to me than being right. And that was for a COWORKER (now friend yay). Mut can’t even manage to do that with someone he supposedly likes romantically.

Why does Rak not get to be upset about this? Mut just immediately shuts it down by saying “let’s not end on a bad note.” Sir, you caused the bad note and made no apologies. Instead you laughed at Rak for daring to want some comfort while having no control over his own life while there. Like seriously. If you caused the pain, you don’t get to dictate when the hurt is done.

And the flashbacks again. Will we get some every damn episode? We’re 4 for 4 now.

Rak baby boy this doesn’t make any sense. Does Mut have a magic dick? I do not understand.

What.

Noisy sidewalk people go AWAY

So Mook is paranoid for her valid concerns about STDs? He should get tested. So should Rak. If memory serves, both sleep around. Mut with guests and Rak when he needs to write smut. And Rak has slept with Mut already. I know they used a condom each time, but he should still get tested too. Seriously. Rak’s wealth and fame won’t protect him from STDs.

Noisy neighbor go AWAY

Man I wish this show would just let Rak be aro without making it about trauma and him just being scared to love.

Am I supposed to care about this random woman at the end? Cause I don’t.

And I feel meh about this episode as well. See you in literally the bullet below for episode 5 but it will be a week for me. Time is weird man. Time is weird.

Time IS weird past Rae. And you were right, it was a tiring week. I’m finally caught up on shows though..sort of. I still might start another show tonight. Or maybe listen to an audiobook. I think I’m gonna return my library book and see if they have it on audiobook. If I thought my wrist hurt last week, that’s nothing compared to today. Mistakes were made on my trip. One was unavoidable and the other was…well I did an exercise and that was a mistake.

Anyway now for episode 5.

Rak should wear his glasses all the time. That is all (speaking of glasses…where did I put mine…)

I had issues with that whole scene but honestly I’m too tired to type them all out. Mut is not as smart as he thinks he is and that’s all I have to say.

Rak, sweetie, the waiter just stood there. You know that. You were there.

I’ve had guys say this to me after I told them I don’t like them. You will never guess the outcome of that.

Absolutely the fuck not. There is no way that any person with a uterus wrote this line. Because what the fuck. Why is it that Mook isn’t allowed to be upset with being sent all over yonder on an errand for someone who is NOT her employer and this is the response to her being upset? Believe it or not, people that have periods can be angry because of the actions of other people and not just because of their period. Yes, PMS is a thing, but it is not the only reason for anger. Who wrote this line? I just want to talk.

Save Mook. Save her.

I hate how Vie perpetuates the horrible stereotypes of women in order to manipulate Mook. It’s awful.

So let me get this straight. Mut…forced Rak to go out to eat with him (even though they could have gotten delivery) and then when they’re shopping and Rak has explicitly stated that he wants to leave, it is a “date” because Mut is interested in Rak and he says so. But Rak has stated he does not like Mut. So the whole thing doesn’t work because Rak DOESN’T WANT TO BE THERE. It’s not a date if they both don’t agree it’s a date. And to Mut, you can’t use Rak’s novels against him. Those are characters in fiction. They don’t represent Rak’s real feelings. I hate Mut. Have I mentioned that? I mean I’m not Rak’s biggest fan either but Mut is just…dumb. Rak should be able to argue against this it’s so dumb.

Most novels don’t have sound?? I mean there are audiobooks but the sound in those is typically just words. Unless it’s different in Thailand? I don’t know. Also maybe this is a translation thing? (This is me after the end of the episode and I get it. He was talking about what the author says the sound effect would be. I admit it, I was dumb here. I don't think it came across quite right in the translation but this is fully on me for being dumb. But also the sound mixing at the end? Do NOT get me started. It was bad and I wanted to die.)

If someone put all of my alcohol and snacks back while I was shopping AND paying for it…I would murder them on the spot. I beg your finest pardon Mut, but let Rak have snacks? The alcohol I’m less pressed about because he does have alcohol at home but the snacks? THE SNACKS? I hope Mut rots in hell. This is The Ultimate Sin to me. *guards my snacks with my life*

If Rak’s skin still looks that good on a diet of alcohol and snacks, then I will eat my hat. Also Mut mind yo business. You ain’t his doctor. C’mere Rak. I’ll give you some snacks.

Save Mook. Save her.

This family drama is so poorly written. I feel bad for the actors who are killing it in this scene. They deserve a better script.

I did not hate the end of that episode. Or the scene in the dressing room. Mut's response to the drama was...he still has some work to do on boundaries but it wasn't bad. He did eventually respect the boundaries and they had some good communication in that dressing room. I don’t like that he had to be screamed at before he left Rak alone, but he didn’t walk to Rak which I was so scared he was gonna do and the show was gonna paint it as romantic.

The preview for next week has me concerned though. I probably won’t like episode 6. But that’s all for this week…and last. My wrist hurts and I need a nap.

[madangel19]

Ok. How many people are in Ghost? And do people know what they look like without the masks?

Is Papa (?) Pope (?) same person??? Same mask ? different names?

Oh man, there are a lot of people in Ghost, but currently, there are nine members of the band. Eight ghouls and Papa Emeritus IV. There have been many others, mostly those who played the ghouls, but they usually leave on their own terms.

For a long time, people didn't know what the band members looked like beneath their masks. They wanted to remain anonymous, but that didn't last long so now people know what they all look like under the mask.

All of the Papas are played by the same man, Tobias Forge, who wears a different mask for each character. Here's Tender Father below. He's a mad talented genius :D

Onto the Papas! There are four of them and each album has a different Papa as the lead. All of them are brothers with their father being this old fart, Papa Nihil.

He's the only Papa that's not played by Tobias Forge. I'll get back to him a little later.

This here is Papa 1, also known as Primo. He's the first Papa and he's also an old fart. All of them are old farts, but Primo is the second oldest fart behind Nihil.

I honestly don't know much about him, but Ghost started out with him with the album, OpusEponymous. He's crusty and dusty lookin, but the fans still love him. Also, the fandom has collectively agreed that he loves gardening due to a very good cosplayer playing around in a garden.

Next up is Papa 2, also known as Secondo. He looks like an older Pitbull when not in makeup (that's still a mask :'D)

He's the bone daddy and he's pretty intimidating with that stare. He was the frontman for the album, Infestissumam, which fucking slaps holy shit. I highly recommend that one.

Next up is Terzo, who quickly became a fan favorite as Ghost started getting more popular. Lord almighty, this man has most everyone in the fandom acting up. He's horny on main almost 24/7 and it shows lol

With their Grammy hit, Cirice, came the most wanted experience by many ghost fans: Being picked by Papa Emeritus if you're near the stage so he can serenade you and give your hand a smooch. Lord, I'd die on the spot. The charisma is dripping from those gifs, good lord almighty I think I need to fan myself lol

He was behind the Meliora album where it focused less on the devil, which was focused on in the other albums, and more on worshipping the self. The ministry didn't like this and Terzo ended up getting dragged off stage and eventually killed along with Primo and Secondo. Very sad :(, but next up is when things get very good :D

Before Terzo was killed off, we were introduced to Cardinal Copia

He is also a fan favorite and he became the frontman for the Prequelle album once Terzo and the others were killed off. It's very likely that he is also an Emeritus due to Papa Nihil hooking up with Sister Imperator when they were younger.

Anyway, back to Copia. Nihil didn't want Copia leading the band because he wasn't a part of the bloodline, but Sister said he was very good at his job as Cardinal and him having the second most employee of the month achievements convinced Papa Nihil to let Copia lead the band. Nihil wanted to lead, but he's an extra old fart and the band needed someone a bit younger.

So Copia became the frontman and he was goofy, sexy and fabulous!

He wore a lot of tight-ass clothes and he liked to ride around on a lil tricycle both off and on stage. He's the rat daddy :3

And then, everything changed when Papa Nihil died on stage and Copai just rolled out on his lil trike in this video where he became the new Papa. Warning, this video is loud, but it's mostly due to this one guy losing his shit

So, Cardi C turned into Papa Emeritus IV and he's the current Papa right now and I adore him :')

Also, with Cardi becoming Papa, he got plastic surgery (new mask), so he looks a lot different now without makeup. Still love him tho :')

So, Copia is still the frontman and he's on two albums: Prequelle and Impera (which fucking slaps). It's also very likely that he's gonna get killed off at the end of this upcoming summer tour due to this video

The fandom is scared for Copia because we have no idea what's going to go down on 9/11 and 9/12. Those are their last two shows of the tour and no filming from the crowd is allowed, so something big is gonna happen. I don't want rat daddy to die :'D

Anyway, thank you so much for the ask about Ghost! There's a lot of lore, but this pretty much sums it up for the Papas. The ghouls are totally different story since there's so many of them :'D

There are a lot of other explanation vids online you can check out if you want to look more into them

[cansomebodytellmewhatsgoingon]

"Look at this shark eating this cheeseburger"

"Das a toilet!"

"The moon tide is tugging on our hearts right now"

"You gon' spread my insides out, I'll start a fire"

"We turned him into a Pac-Man's little bitch"

"Monocle Gentlesir"

"Close that second fridge door, you big baby bitch"

"Lil' can! Lil' can!"

"I will climb Greatness Mountain... and grab Greatness' tits at the top of the peak!"

"Fuck this shit! Go home, go bed"

"You're like a dad teaching a kid with no fuckin' mobility in his legs on a tricycle - when someone's pushing him!"

"STREAM SPOATS!"

"You want da puncake?"

"I didn't know owls could fly"

"Keld um"

"Magic book... let what white woman allow me between her loins"

"Black Stamp of Approval™"

"BIG GUY! BIG GUY!"

"That's a fuckin' potato wearin' a bra"

"We're on the moon, and there's bees everywhere!"

"ALRIGHT!"

"'Am I ever gonna get married?' No, you gon' die alone"

"I'M SPEAKING MOTHERFUCKIN' ENGLISH YOU DUMB BITCH!"

"Off season"

"Dude, we were bottles between the couch and the bullet ploof grass!"

"GIVE. BIRTH."

"Uh, this - oh, I just ate it."

"Did you just throw up, like - like a baby, on yourself?"

"Goomba, fuck you!"

"TWO BOTTLES OF HEINIKIEN!"

"Stay...low"

"My name is Popeye for a reason, I do not fuck with the junk food like Cheetos"

"Racist Fridge"

"Now I'm stuck dressed as this sophisticated Chinaman!"

"Oh, there's a piggy! There's a - there's a - YAHOO!"

"I could've just laughed and busted milk or some shit out of my nose!"

"NOOO JOEEEE!!!"

"To the Minority Cave!"

"This is such bullshit! HE'S BLEEDING EVERYWHERE!"

"Mynamejeff"

"It's the Nintendo Switch... motherfucker"

"Today we're not gonna be continuing our lesson on... alien abductions, or whatever this is"

"You have bear fists?"

"I'm just kidding, you're a fUCKboy"

"It's like hockin' a dookie"

"It's Gorod Time"

"It happened so quickly, and with such velocity, that before I knew it, I had busted a nut on my own forehead"

"Shave my balls"

"Come on down to Olive Garden and get your free bread sticks"

"I've got to take a po-op"

"CHIPOTLE!!!"

"I became friends with the mutant gummy worm... I don't wanna kill him!"

"MOM MADE CHICKEN!"

"Your minimum-wage pilot just jumped out of the plane"

"Everything seems a...okay"

"Because it rips a hole in the space-time continuum and kills your heritage!"

"Where's Marge? Which one of you fucked my wife?"

"Who the FUCK wrote 'squeeze my weiner' on the end?"

"JUST WAY BETTER!"

"We ride together... we bake pies together"

"The Terminator's got a new son! Meet my boy!"

"Never gon' find me!"

"He went training his whole life for that one specific moment!"

"WAPOW!"

"*Moo laughing*"

[princessscopia]

Heart without a Home

Chapter 4 - The Rat

Ao3 Link

No Smut but lots of awkward interaction

Excellente - Excellent Sorella - Sister Piccolo - Little One

You made a couple friends and they helped make you feel like this was the right choice, even though it felt like a fever dream. No one had really caught your eye romantically, though you had a couple one night stands with a few siblings. Papa Terzo was the heartthrob of the ministry, you had learned quickly. He seemed to sleep with every sibling at least once, and you were no exception even in your short weeks here. He was good in bed, you could admit, but you could tell it was just a fun thing for him. Honestly it kinda made you feel bad for the siblings who were smitten with him, that man would never settle down, not when he could keep having anyone he wanted at any time. Otherwise though, you enjoyed the few conversations you had with him, he was charismatic and impulsive, but truly kind if not a little stupid from arrogance.

You had been here about a month when you were assigned to his class. A beginner’s Latin course that everyone here was encouraged to take. When you saw Cardinal Copia would be the teacher your breath caught. You hadn’t talked to the man since your first day here, and had honestly managed to not think about it too much since you were so busy. You sighed, telling yourself it wasn't a big deal. After all, it was just a random awkward meeting. Plus other siblings of sin talked negatively of him, awkward and strict, always busy if he wasn’t teaching classes. 

The class was your first class after your breakfast shift at the cafeteria. Wiping sweat from your brow, you pulled your apron off and hung it up before hurrying to a restroom to make sure you didn’t look a mess and to adjust your habit. You fixed your makeup and nodded to your reflection before heading to the classroom, determined to not make this weird. Something that you were unfortunately very good at. 

Slipping into the classroom, you kept your head down and went to a desk closest to a window. Other siblings were taking their time coming in and you sighed and smoothed your skirt and looked at the book you were given for this class. You looked up when the voices around you silenced, seeing Cardinal come into the classroom. At least he wasn't riding his stupid tricycle this time, you smirked slightly at the thought. The smirk quickly went away when his eyes met yours and he raised a brow, noticing the look on your face. You looked away. 

He started class like normal and you took notes, genuinely interested in learning languages, and his accent honestly just made it easier to listen too. This would definitely be helpful for some of your other classes too. Soon enough class was over though. You started packing up and the Cardinal walked up to your desk. 

“Sorella, before you go” he said, startling you. He held up his hands when you jumped. “Eh sorry.. I just wanted to ask how you were settling in. I heard you decided to stay but haven't gotten a chance to talk to you” 

“Oh…” you said looking at his awkward smile and mismatched eyes “Yeah, Things are good. Thank you Cardinal” you gave him a soft smile back. “I appreciate you checking in. I am enjoying it.” 

“Eccellente!” he nodded, “If you need help with anything, feel free to let me know, si?” You nodded, shoving your books in your bag. 

“Thanks again,” you said, standing from your desk. “Will do, Cardinal”  He nodded and walked towards his desk, sitting down in the chair. 

“Okie dokie, See you tomorrow” he said, giving you another little wave as you headed to the door. “Oh Sorella,” he said quickly, you turned your head to him “You have a handprint…eh” he pointed towards your butt. You blushed, pulling the fabric of your habit to see the flour you had forgotten to check for. Fuck

“Oh… uh.. Thanks for telling me.” you said quickly and darted out the door, dusting yourself off, face reddened. How was it that the two times you've talked to this man you've embarrassed yourself? 

The rest of the day went mostly smoothly. After class you went back to the kitchen for the dinner rush. You tried to get your mind off of the embarrassment from earlier. There were plenty of breads, cookies and pastries that needed to be baked and prepped for the next morning so you let yourself get lost in your work. 

You were lost in thought when you heard a woman scream in the fridge. You threw your towel down and rushed in to see a Sister smacking at something moving. It took you a moment but then you realized it was a rat. 

"Hold on, don't hurt it!" You said nudging your fellow sibling out of the way, shooing them out of the room. You had a soft spot for rodents and odd pets, often seen as nothing but pests. You grabbed a slice of cheese and held it out to the scared rat, which had now backed itself under a shelf. "Come on little guy, it's alright I won't hurt you" you cooed. It sniffed and after a moment came right to your hand. You picked it up and realized there was no way this fat little rodent was a wild rat. It had to be someone's pet.  "Where did you come from lil dude?" You asked it, giving it light scritches on its little head.  

"WHERE IS RIGATONI?" A panicked Italian accent rang out. You sighed. Of course it was Cardinal Copia. "He's missing, where is he??" His voice was distressed, his accent much thicker from emotion. He was talking to the sibling who had been screaming earlier. You stood with the little rat in hand.

"Is this Rigatoni?" You asked Stepping out of the fridge. Cardinal whipped around and looked at you, his face red and blotchy, eyes wide. He looked like he was about to cry. You held out the little rat to him. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and nodded. 

"S-si, thank you so much Sorella" he gently took the rat from you, holding him close. "Rigatoni, you scare me half to death." He told the rat softly. You smiled at how much he cared for the little rodent. "I was bringing you snacks, Piccolo, please do not sneak out like that again, it's dangerous." 

"I'm glad he's alright" you said, giving a small laugh "Sister was ready to smack the little guy across the kitchen." You closed the walk in fridge door and walked back to your station. 

"Sorella, truly I can't thank you enough," Copia said following you to your station "anyone else…eh, well they do not take kindly to my pets." He frowned softly at that, "I appreciate your kindness" 

"Oh it's nothing" you replied quickly "I am pretty fond of rodents, they're sweet little guys. I think they have a bad reputation." Cardinals eyes widened and he nodded.

"Si si! Exactly. Bad reputation, but they are very smart and loving" he gushed. You felt your cheeks heating up, his love and excitement for the rodents was endearing. Turning to go back to work you felt his hand stop you. “Ah, Sorella…  maybe you would like to come by sometime and meet my other rats?” he asked after a moment. You turned to look at him again, eyes wide. “Eh.. If you want to, of course?”

“Yes” you answered a little too quickly, causing yourself to blush more furiously “I’d love to come meet them” you tried to regain your composure, a small smile on your face. His eyes lit up a little, his cheeks pink as well. “Maybe later this week?” 

“Si, Si! Ah, Friday afternoon perhaps?” he offered. You nodded.

[nowhereletters]

Hi, Substack! 久しぶりですね。

Something has been sitting in my mind for a while now that I fear I will forget the longer I keep it. So while it’s still not ready, and I’m still not too fond of my memories the last time I was here, here goes -

There’s something sad and unholy when morning breaks.

You know, that sliver of time when there’s light enough everywhere to see but not having been there long enough yet that the happenings when there was less of it still concealed things, or made them seem like some sort of a hazy image.

It might not always be the case in your part of the world, but I believe somewhere, to someone, or something, it is. These thoughts, simply spurred by two vivid instances I saw during my travels home from work a few months back:

The first - simply, a man diligently washing clothes.

Except that he was rinsing suds off the clothes.

And that he used very little water. Almost just a trickle. In what seemed like an effort to conserve what little he had then.

The water? It was stored in a used gallon container.

And it was also a bit murky.

It just rained that morning. The roads were still wet and there were still puddles around where he was.

Puddles with murky water.

This isn’t speculation, dear one. I saw his efforts with the container.

And the clothes?

They were tiny.

I’ll let you do with that image, what you will.

*****

I love dogs. Always have, always will. I used to have asthma as a kid and I was told I could never have pets to spare me from fits. I’m glad that didn’t become a reality.

Walk home from work, and I spotted a stray on the other side of the street lounging cozily almost behind a lamp post.

I thought, “Ah, that’s where it probably spent the night sleeping.”

I even thought what a lucky dog, that one, to just have been able to sleep that night away. I was exhausted, did a mountainload of work and had another mountainload waiting, it was starting to get hot, and the commute was adding up to everything. I was one tricycle ride away from home.

The roads cleared. I started to cross. Eyes still on the stray, I saw it seemed to be enjoying itself licking on a treat in front of it, then pausing to look around as if proud of the treat.

I got closer, curious and almost asked her what it was in front of her that was giving her much joy. I was close enough to recognize it didn’t have the body of a male dog.

The treat was pink. Ah, might be stolen meat from one of the early market sellers. But it was a weird pink, I belatedly realized, and the treat was elongated. Fuck, was it a filled (with something else) condom? No, seriously, I thought it was for a split second.

Then I saw the two dark nubs. And it hit me that it wasn’t a condom. It wasn’t a treat. Her licks were actually frantic, she wasn’t cozily lounging behind the lamp post, and the floor she was lying on was wet. It didn’t rain that day.

The thing in front of her was stolen, I think we could both agree. Although not from anyone or anything else, but from her.

She paused and looked around again. It still wasn’t breathing. And she continued licking.

*****

My apologies, this isn’t a letter. Just fish swimming in a tiny pond that I would like to set free.

[writingjourney]

Honey and Venom | Papa IV x f!Reader

Or: The four times you fell for your best friend without noticing and the one time you did.

Summary: You’ve been Copia’s best friend for years, unaware of just how deep your feelings go. It's only when he shows you his new stage outfit, that you realise friendship is not all that you feel for him. A difficult conversation leads to confessions… and exploring how easily (or not) the outfit can be removed.

Content: ~9.5k words (i know, i'm sorry), lots of fluff and pining, kinda slow-burn, best friends to lovers, part v contains smut (18+ only, MDNI, mostly sweet, some marking, oral sex f receiving, vaginal sex, nothing too specific) tldr: two oblivious idiots in love

Ao3 link – Masterlist

I.

The first time you fall for your best friend without noticing it… well, you have technically already fallen – and he isn’t your best friend yet. You’re lying on the floor, covered in dust and the fifteen library books you had been carrying in a terrifyingly high stack. Not innocent but feeling very much betrayed, you glance at the perpetrator and find…

A tricycle?

„Oh, no, no, no,“ is all you hear before you see a whoosh of red fabric crouching down beside you. „I just parked it for one second! Are you alright, sorella?“

In hindsight, you’re laughing about it and so does Copia. All of it happened three years ago, when he used to be an awkward Cardinal who was riding his tricycle around the abbey, bumping into all kinds of corners – and you. The resounding noise of the falling books echoed through the halls of the abbey like it continues to echo in your mind whenever you think about that day. Just like you still see his mismatched eyes staring into yours in absolute horror when he leaned over you in the following quiet. You only fell for him an hour later when you saw those eyes shining, lashes meeting in the corners as he gave you his first genuine smile. Not that you’re aware of it just yet.

„What are you thinking about?“ 

You look up. „Hm?“

Your Papa, in full make-up and his robed, mitred glory, does not look like the shy Cardinal you met at all. No, he stands before you like he commands every room. And he will command the congregation in ten minutes when Mass begins, once you helped him put on his robes. Not that he needs you to do it, but it has become some sort of ritual.

„Your mind seems to be somewhere far away,“ he explains.

You hand him his gloves. „I just thought about how we met. And how far you’ve come.“

He smiles. „One of the best days of my life, no doubt. I would not be here if you had not stumbled over my little vehicle, amore.“

You shake your head. „You would be, Papa. I have no doubts about that. All I do is listen to your thoughts and hype you up. I am practically a cheerleader.“

With practised movements he yanks the gloves onto his hands, sprawling his fingers like a surgeon as he pulls them down. You watch him round the table, now in his full outfit, an unusually stern expression on his face.

He stops before you, one of the gloved fingers tilting your chin up. „I won’t hear any of this, amore. You do so much more. You are so much more.“

“Copia–“

„You understand your Papa?“

You nod. „Yes.“

The solemn expression turns into a laugh and he clasps his hands together. „Then let’s fucking go. I have some ministering to do and I better see you in first row with some pompoms, doing a sexy little dance, eh?“

You roll your eyes at him but follow his cackling out of the door anyway. He may be the most powerful man in the church now, but deep down he’s still your silly best friend.

II.

The next time you fall for your best friend without noticing it starts with a touch. A kiss, to be precise.

The smell of food in your nostrils is unbearable, stomach growling as you wait for what feels like an eternity in front of the heavy wooden door. You’re about to fish your phone out of your hoodie’s pocket when he opens. „Amore?“

Copia calls you amore whenever you’re alone, rarely ever using sister or sorella anymore unless someone is with you. You are not… a couple. But he insists it’s the only name that feels right for you. Not your name, not a random nickname. Always amore.

„Papa,“ you say. „I brought food. How does dinner together sound to you?“

He smiles gratefully. „How did you know I was not in the mood for company?“

„I am company.“

„Yes, but… good company.“ He steps aside to let you in. „The best.“

Copia’s quarters, now that he’s Papa, are much nicer than before. You had to convince him to get some new things because you were tired of eating on the floor whenever you came over for lack of proper seating. The first thing he acquired was a comfortable couch that you helped him choose and that you settle on now, unpacking the Chinese food you brought on a similarly new coffee table.

„How was your day?“ you ask when he sits down next to you. „Stressful?“

One glance at him is answer enough. Even though the Papal paint hides the shadows under his eyes you can see how tired he is. He’s stripped off most of his robes apart from a black frilly shirt and his regular black pants. His hair stands up at odd angles and there are ink stains on his ungloved hands. When you glance over, you notice a huge stack of papers on his desk.

„Actually, I should still be working,“ he says, grabbing one of the paper boxes with food.

„No, actually, you should eat something,“ you correct him. „And let me take care of you for a bit before you collapse. You’re no help for the clergy if you work yourself to death.“

Copia sighs, a timid smile working its way on his face. „What would I do without you, amore?“

In a lapse of self-control you lift your hand and comb one of the stray pieces of his hair down. The touch makes him freeze which in turn makes you freeze and you only realise your hand is still on his face when he leans into your palm, his soft cheek warm against your skin. He looks so weary, so utterly exhausted.

Your throat is suddenly dry and you swallow. „I don’t like seeing you so overworked, Papa. It worries me.“

„I’m fine, amore, I promise,“ he says. „It was a long week.“

„What can I do to help?“

He huffs out a laugh. „You are already doing more than you should.“

His hand finds yours where it rests on his cheek and he brings it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. Your heart clenches, overwhelmed by the tender gesture, by the warmth of his bigger hand covering yours. His soft lips leave a wet imprint on your skin and when he lets go of you in favour of eating, you remain dazed, puzzled. You struggle to grab your own food box, scared of losing the ghost of his kiss on your palm.

Copia, seemingly unaware, munches on his spring rolls. „What do you say? We watch a movie and relax together? I think that would make me feel better and it would ease your worries.“

You nod with a smile, trying to shake the tingling sensation in your fingertips. In that moment, you feel another tickle but this time on your leg. Looking down, you see one of Copia’s furry friends trying to get your attention. „Oh, what are you doing here, Fagiolo?“

„Ah yes, I forgot I had him out of his cage,“ Copia says. „He was keeping me company. Well, chewing on my papers more like.“

You pick up the rat, letting it settle into your lap. „You want our leftovers, huh? Have to wait a bit longer, my love.“

Fagiolo doesn’t mind. He’s Copia’s most patient rat, the most well-behaved, too, and he loves sleeping in pockets so much that you’re sure he’s gonna bridge the time with a nice little nap. Just like expected, he climbs into the pocket of your hoodie and gets comfortable.

„Look how cute he is, Copia! Look at his lil face peeking out!“

„He is,“ Copia agrees, but he’s not looking at the rat. Instead he’s smiling at you with so much warmth in his eyes that you’re melting. „He is, amore. Just like you.“

III.

You sit in the refectory for a late lunch, eating a sandwich and scribbling down notes for an upcoming lecture you’re doing for the new initiates You hoped most of the clergy was finished with lunch by now, but it’s still noisy and distracting. There is a group of Siblings at the table next to yours, in particular, who are chatting and laughing and gossiping with no shame. One of the Sisters in particular seems to be the object of interest. As soon as she sits down with them, everyone’s eyes focus on her.

„So who were you with last night? You never came back to your room,“ one of them says.

The Sister giggles. „I can’t tell you. No. I just can’t.“

„Come on. That Brother who’s been flirting with you for the past month?“

„No, you’ll never guess. Don’t even try!“ 

It’s clear she wants them to try anyway. The others indulge her, loudly complaining, urging her to disclose her secret until she relents. The table goes quiet, preparing to catch her speaking under her breath. „I was with… with Papa.“

The supposed whisper is so loud that half of the room can hear it and they all glance at you, knowing you and Copia are friends. So you pretend you haven’t heard it. Pretend you’re focused on the notepad right next to your plate, scribbling random letters down to appear busy.

„How was it?“ someone asks.

„It was great,“ she says. „I got to try out that thing I’ve always wanted to try out. I think he was really impressed. I won’t be surprised if it happens again!“

Your pen gives off a pained cracking sound and you realise you’ve used so much force that it nearly snapped. When you glance down at the notepad, there are only four bold letters where you were tracing the lines over and over until the paper is stretched so thin it threatens to rip.

FUCK.

Your day is ruined and you’re not even sure why. You’ve wanted him to find relief for some of his stress for a while now and what better way than a night of passion? The sister was beautiful, she seemed to be a real sweetheart. Maybe he has genuine interest in her, maybe this could mean he’s on his way to finding happiness. You’re happy for him. So happy.

But why do you feel like someone kicked you in the guts, multiple times, with combat boots?

You’re lucky you’re on library duty this evening because you’re not sure you could be a polite member of the clergy right now. Something is wrong with you and it unsettles you. What is it about the situation that bothers you so much?

You nearly jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear steps coming up to the desk you’re nearly falling asleep at. It’s Papa, wearing a dark cassock, Grucifix jangling in front of him as he approaches. But he’s not in the exuberant mood you expect him to be in. Instead of a warm glow he exudes a depressed energy. He seems tired, unsmiling, almost hungover, really. Pale and jittery, he looks like he needs to throw up.

„Co– eh, Papa,“ you greet him.

You still struggle not calling him Copia. He doesn’t mind you not addressing him by his title but you don’t want any privileges. Being friends with him already makes it harder to connect to the other Siblings. They would be even less accepting if you lost all propriety.

„Hello, amore,“ he says, a tired edge to his voice. „I have some books to return to you.“

You give him a kind smile. „You know you don’t have to do that yourself, right?“

„I wanted to. I knew you’d be here and I felt like seeing you.“

„What’s wrong?“ 

He raises his brows. „What do you mean?“

„You look like you’re getting sick,“ you say. „Are you unwell?“

Copia shakes his head, waving you off like he often does when you show concern. „No, no. I am fine. Not in the best of moods today, maybe.“

„I would expect you to be elated today,“ you say. „Floating, really.“

„Why?“ He hands you the two books he’s been carrying under his arm, still staring at them as you reach out to scan them. „Did I miss something?“

„Well, how was it?“

„How was what, amore?“

„Your… company last night. I heard some Siblings talking earlier.“

He looks up, clearly surprised and overwhelmed by the question. „It was… ugh… okay. It was fine.“

Your eyes meet. „Fine?“

A shrug. „You know.“

„I know?“

He’s flustered, uncomfortable, but you cannot go back now. So you tilt your head to the side in question.

„Sometimes you need to… to scratch an itch,“ he explains. „And it feels good in the moment, but when you’re done… you realise it was not the right way to go about it and then the sting hurts more than before. It actually becomes really fucking painful.“

Brow furrowed, you take in his tense stance, the way his ears are red, how he avoids your gaze. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you suppose. He knows you’re not… getting a lot of intimacy. Of course he wouldn’t brag about having an amazing night, he is quiet about these things, discreet.

„So, she wasn’t…“ You try to find the right words. „Not… what you thought?“

„Oh, she was great. No, she was really… beautiful. And all of that.“

That answer is enough to make you regret ever asking. What did you think he would say? You don’t want to hear any of the juicy details. In fact, you would rather rip your ears off than hear any more about it. So you backtrack, using the opportunity to finish with his books. „Sorry, I mean… it’s none of my business really.“

Copia waves off. „No, you’re my best friend, of course you are interested. You would tell me, too, right?“

„Yes, of course. I would… I would totally tell you if there was someone.“

Copia looks at you expectantly when you don’t continue. „So?“

„So?“

„So, is there someone?“

„No. No one.“

You stare at each other for a moment, then. It’s hard to hide how this is affecting you. The thought of him with literally anyone seems wrong and you have to admit that you can’t imagine being with anyone right now either. This friendship with him is all you really care about. Maybe that’s enough for you. It doesn’t seem to be for him. If he starts seeing someone for real, what will become of it? Will he forget about you?

„Mi dispiace,“ he says. „I know I am overly worried again and you don’t like that, but, amore… you seem…“

„I’m completely normal,“ you interrupt before he can pinpoint what’s wrong with you. „I don’t know what you mean.“

„So there is nothing weighing on your heart?“

You shake your head, forcing out a smile. „No, I’m okay. I’m great, actually.“

„Good, then give me a hug,“ he says, opening his arms widely in a theatrical gesture. It’s one of his strategies, a last resort, asking for hugs whenever he feels like something is off with you because it’s the only way you’ll soften up to him. The only way you don’t shut down.

This is something that started way back when he was still Cardinal. You’d been relatively new as well and struggled with loneliness. Opening up to anyone, making friends, it’s always been hard. After your fateful encounter, meeting the bumper of his tricycle by accident, he almost begged you to make it up to you by carrying the books he made you drop. That day you felt awfully lonely and so you let him trail after you, glad to have some sort of company. You talked to him all afternoon, realising how much you had missed easy conversation, and at some point you just randomly started crying because it felt so nice to have someone listen in earnest. He’d tried to coax the reason out of you, but you just assured him you were okay. Of course he didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t pressure you for details. Instead he asked if a simple hug would help.

He’s been hugging you when you’re trying to shut him out ever since.

And it makes your walls crumble every single time.

You step out from behind the desk and let him embrace you. Initially, you struggle not to imagine him holding the other Sister in his arms like that. But then his hand moves into your hair and he starts scratching your scalp just how he knows you enjoy and, in an instant, all of that is forgotten. You exhale slowly, then breathe him in. He smells heavily of incense and smoke. You get lightheaded from the heady scent, melting into him. Or maybe it’s just his proximity, the way he’s surrounding you so completely.

„Come over tonight?“ he whispers. „We can watch that movie you wanted to see before you fell asleep on me last time.“

Your stomach drops like you’re on a rollercoaster, heat rushing to your cheeks. You whimper into his neck, the sound muffed by his collar.

„Is that a yes?“

„Yes.“

IV.

The last time you fall for your best friend without noticing it he stands you up for dinner. 

It is not like you have a fixed appointment or that you always have dinner together. But most evenings you simply end up at the same table in the refectory, eating together like an old married couple, talking about your respective days. The domesticity of it is your favorite thing. It just feels so natural. And now, sitting by yourself because no one really dares to be your friend, you just feel pathetic.

So after dinner, you end up looking for Copia anyway, convinced that he’s still working somewhere and just forgot to check the clock every once in a while. You forgo getting him food, deciding to just fetch him something later in case he hasn’t eaten yet. The man really needs to take better care of himself, but he’s so bad at accepting it.

You find him on a blood-red chaise longue near one of many fireplaces that keep the library warm and the books dry. At this hour, he has swapped the papal robes for his lighter black cassock that reminds you of his Cardinal days. He reclines comfortably with an old book on his lap and a notepad beside him. Of course he’s still working.

„Amore,“ he says, looking up when you approach.

„Oh, I didn’t think you’d be busy,“ you say. „I can come by later.“

„No. Please join me,“ he says. „I am preparing a sermon for Sunday Mass.“

„Only if I won’t bother you.“

„You could not even if you tried. I relish in your company too much to ever tire of you.“ 

You’re elated by his words, a warm, comfortable feeling settling in your chest, tickling the insides of your ribcage. There is enough space for you next to him, so you pull your legs up and turn sideways to face him.

„I can use your opinion.“ He turns to you, a sheepish smile on his lips. „You are always so good with words. See, the topic of the sermon is… love. It is about how the most blissful feelings always carry the potential for pain with them. How do you like this quote?“ He takes his notepad, reading from his own messy handwriting. „Amore et melle et felle es fecundissimus.“

„Love is rich with honey…“

„…and venom.“

You smile, letting the words linger in your ears. „Love is both sweet and bitter.“

Copia stares at you with a penetrating gaze, nodding slowly. „Yes, it is.“

„I like it, very fitting,“ you say, taking the book from his lap as it threatens to fall. The language of love. A near ancient copy, the pages covered in dust and yellowed by decades of sunlight.

„It is very true, don’t you think?“ Copia asks, averting his gaze almost urgently like he can’t bear to look at you.

„It is,“ you agree, frowning. „How did you come up with the topic for the sermon?“

He scribbles in his notebook. „Ah, you know. Uhm… I think someone suggested it. Because it is Valentine’s Day soon.“

„That’s only in three weeks.“

„Yes, but… what better topic than love, eh?“ He chuckles and you wonder if you’re imagining the nervous tint to it. „Anyway, what brings you to me?“

„Oh, I just thought we hadn’t seen much of each other today,“ you explain. „And I missed you during dinner.“

„I missed you, too. I am sorry, I was dining out.“

„Oh.“ You ignore the pang in your chest. „So, that’s… that’s how you thought of the topic.“

He squints. „What?“

„Well, if you were on a date…“

„Oh, not a date!“ He chuckles. „No, no. It was with Sister Imperator.“

„Oh.“ Your cheeks heat up and you avert your gaze. „I just thought… a few weeks ago, you and that Sister…“

„Ah, amore, it was a one time thing. There is no romantic interest.“

„Great! I mean, good to… good to know.“ You hastily start flipping through the pages of the book to hide your embarrassment. „So do you need more quotes?“

„Yes, it is good to have a selection. You are okay, yes?“

„I’m alright,“ you say, acting very busy with the book. „I’ll help you.“

You start reading the old latin words in earnest now, scanning them for some more fitting aphorisms. Most of them are overused, some are far too cheesy. It is surprising how humanity has always felt similar about love, about heartache, about desire.

„What about this one?“ you say. „Adeo ne hominem immutare ex amor, ut non cognoscas eundem esse.“

Copia’s eyes are wide when you look at him, the meaning of the words leaving his tongue in a whisper. „Is it possible that a man can be so changed by love, that you could not recognize him to be the same?“

V.

Humming contently, you meander through a crowd of bubbly initiates towards the wing that houses the higher-ranking clergy members, a stack of papers pressed tightly to your chest. The abbey is so much more crowded now than it used to be, but here, everything is eerily quiet. Despite your status as Sister you’ve been here so many times, you could find your way blindfolded.

Opening the heavy wooden door to Copia’s chambers, you’re met with the sight of a ghoul carrying a bunch of clothes bags. As he steps away, the Papa sees you and his eyes light up. „Oh, amore, you’re right on time!“

„What are you doing?“ you ask, placing the papers you need signed on his coffee table. 

„Outfit check!“ he exclaims happily. „Trying on my new stage outfit or… at least one of many.“

„Oh.“

The ghoul leaves, closing the door without the sound fully registering in your mind. You stand there, staring at your Papa like he’s the Unholy Master himself.

He’s wearing black, rat-eaten jeans that are so skinny they basically leave nothing to the imagination. The intricate rips and details on his thighs draw your eyes up his legs and you notice the jeans are not fastened with a simple zipper but with lacings. You’re vaguely aware that your eyes linger on his crotch longer than is appropriate but you can’t help it. Even so, there is just so much to take in. His boots are soft Italian leather, matching his gloves. With a black frilly shirt and an elaborately embellished leather jerkin on top, he doesn’t just look like your Papa but an infernal apparition, ready to conquer the world and spread Lucifer’s gospel.

„What do you say, eh? It is good?“ He looks at you with big puppy eyes that stand in stark contrast to the skull-like Papal paint, awaiting your judgement. Only that you haven’t found your voice back yet. „… Amore? Are you okay?“

You snap out of your trance and nod. „Yes. Yes, very good. You look…“ Breathtaking? Like sin itself? „Uhm, the outfit, it looks… looks great. Really. Unholy in the best kind of way. Like you’re a Dark Gothic Lord.“

He preens, eyeing himself in the mirror in front of him with a smirk. „Yes, I think so too.“

What are you supposed to do now? Are you losing your mind?

„I like the big shirt sleeves underneath. And the… the copper ornaments on the jerkin. Very regal. The perfect outfit for a Papa,“ you ramble on. „They will lose their minds over it when you’re on stage, you’re so very handsome.“

„Oh, you’re just flattering me! Saying what I want to hear!“ He waves you off as he laughs, a high, unrestrained chuckle. „Now, what do you really say? You, not the others.“

You have no idea if he’s seeing through your confusion, you don’t even know what’s happening yourself. Something feels off, your whole body is acting up.

„I think you look incredible,“ you say truthfully. „It’s the best outfit yet. I don’t think I’ve ever found you so… magnetic.“

His smirk widens. „Magnetic, eh?“ 

This shift in expression does something very unusual to you. It almost feels… flirty.

You swallow the lump in your throat and smack his shoulder. „Don’t let it go to your head, Papa.“

„Oh, I absolutely will. You never say things like that, it is special. I will have to write it in my diary tonight.“

Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously hot. „What’s my opinion worth anyway? I’m just a Sister.“

„You’re not just a Sister,“ he says, frowning. „You are my confidante, you know me like no one else, and you have good taste, too.“

„I don’t think it matters in the great scheme,“ you argue, looking away in embarrassment. „What matters is that you’re going to win so many people for our cause wearing this.“

Papa scoffs. „It matters to me. You’re my friend.“

You ease up, realising there is no need to be defensive about your admission. So what if he knows that you think he looks extremely attractive in his new attire? It’s not a secret. Everyone will tell him the same.

„Well, I think you made a superb choice,“ you eventually say. „I like it. No, I love it.“

His smiles becomes sweet, a little flustered. „Thank you, thank you. Now give me a hug so I know you mean it.“

His arms open widely in the same theatrical gesture as always. And it’s charming, really, it would be charming now if you didn’t suddenly have the hots for him. Nevertheless, you hug him back because any hesitation would make him sad.

When his arms close around you, you notice a nervous feeling in your belly. A feeling that is suspiciously close to the feeling you last had when you were freshly in love. And not just that but the insides of your thighs come to life as your core starts throbbing for attention, your skin tingling underneath the fabric of your clothes.

Fuck, do you have a crush on him?

No, that is impossible. He’s your best friend. He’s been your best friend for so long now. 

Sure, from time to time you do think about him before you sleep and when he touches you, there are undeniable sparks. And yes, maybe you felt a tinge of jealousy after his hookup with the other Sister. And yeah, you do miss him when he’s touring and you can only see him on screens. You did cry when he became Papa, the pride and love you feel for him overwhelming you at the sight of him in his chasuble, mitre and the full make-up. But it has always been a friendly sort of love, hasn’t it? 

Now, in his arms, you feel like it hasn’t been. 

Your heart beats so fast you’re scared he can feel it knocking on his chest, asking for entrance. Thinking back, it has always beaten faster when you touched him, when he hugged you, when he called you amore in this sticky sweet tone that always lingers in your ears.

„You know, I think your hugs are always my favourites,“ he mumbles, his voice low in your ear. „I could do this for hours.“

You fight a nervous chuckle as he pulls you even closer. He can’t know, can he? 

„Me too, you… you feel really good,“ you say instead, trying to ignore what the scent of his cologne does to your insides. Or how his hands moving over your back make you weak in the knees. It’s a lot of body contact, these hugs, the closest you ever really get. Only that all of a sudden it’s not enough anymore.

You realise you were oblivious to your own attraction. The familiarity of your friendship seems to have overshadowed the underlying feelings and now they are trying to break free. Suddenly you feel like you want to rip the damn outfit off. Only he’s not letting go, keeping you closer than ever, and you surely won’t be the first to break away.

„Co– eh, I mean Papa,“ you try. Your nerves are blank.

„You can call me Copia when we’re alone, I told you before,“ he says. „It slips out all the time anyway.“

„I know, but I want to keep minimum respectability.“

He scoffs, one hand moving further up and into your hair. „I know you don’t have any of that, it’s okay. You’re the only one who is completely honest with me.“

Are you? You’re beginning to think you haven’t even been honest with yourself. You remember the burning need you felt a few nights ago, how you were taking care of yourself under the shower and suddenly, without warning, it wasn’t your hand between your legs but his. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t correct your thoughts and imagined him standing behind you, your back pressed to his chest, his hands all over your body. You came in record time, his name clumsily tumbling from your lips that are yet unused to moaning it.

You swallow hard. „What if… what if I’m not?“

Copia lets you go and you regret ever saying anything. His eyes are narrowed and he looks positively terrifying with his make-up. „You hate the outfit?“ he asks. „It’s okay, just say it.“

„No!“ You lift your hands in a gesture of innocence. „No, that’s not what I mean.“

Copia sighs in relief. „Alright, what then? You know you can tell me whatever it is, yes?“

„Not this.“ You shake your head vehemently. „No, it would… make things bad. I’m sorry. Actually, I should probably go.“

You try to walk past him but he grabs your wrist and the touch alone sends sparks through your whole body. You whimper and when you turn back to him he looks genuinely concerned. 

His hand moves into yours, so familiar and yet all new. „Amore, why do you not trust me? Have we not been the best of friends forever now?“ 

You stare at your joined hands, admiring how soft the leather of his gloves feels as his thumb moves over your skin. You concede, the effort of running pointless when you see him later for a meeting anyway. There is no escaping this now. The feelings are there, they won’t go away.

„You are my best friend,“ you say. „Which is exactly why I cannot tell you, Copia.“

„Okay, then I will guess,“ he says, letting go of your hand to raise three fingers. „I know you so well, I get it right in three tries.“

He does know you well, he is not as awkward around you as he is with others, pays closer attention to you. But he cannot possible think of that when not even you yourself knew it until five minutes ago.

Only three tries.

You find yourself nodding. 

„Yes?“

„Yes. But if you don’t get it right then I won’t have to say it. Ever.“

He shrugs, feigning confidence. „Chiaro.“

„Then shoot.“

For a long moment he stares at you, eyes narrow, like he could read your mind if he only tried hard enough. It sure enough feels like he does, his white eye especially piercing. „You have a secret. I say it is… oh. No, you are not… you don’t have a secret illness, do you?“

„No,“ you say. „No, I would tell you if I had.“

„Phew.“ He licks his lips, then starts stroking his chin. „What can it be? You are not sick, you don’t hate my outfit… You… you plan a surprise for someone! You can’t tell me because you know I would give it away. I admit it hurts me, but you are right, I am bad at secrets.“ 

Again, you shake your head. „No, no surprises.“

That seems to confuse him but he’s still eager to guess. Meanwhile your palms are so sweaty you have to wipe them clean on your habit. The room feels stuffy all of a sudden, hot and suffocating.

„Hmmm. What could it be?“ Copia singsongs, completely unaware, tapping a finger against his temple as he paces. For a moment, you assume he can’t come up with anything else, that you’re finally off the hook, but then his whole face lights up and he swivels around. „You are in love!“

Any attempt to remain indifferent flies out the window. The shock sits so deep you cannot control your distorted expression.

„Oh, it is that!“ he says, reading your reaction perfectly, but he’s not as happy as he should be. Instead he huffs out a breath. „So, you… you are in love?“

„I… um… I guess…“

„You said you would tell me if there was someone!“

„I know… ugh, it’s… it’s kind of unexpected… I…“

„But who? Chi potrebbe essere?“ he interrupts before you can embarrass yourself. „There has not been anyone new here lately. It cannot be Terzo, you always complain about him. One of my ghouls? No, no, I have not seen you look at them in that way. Could it be a new Sibling?“

„Copia…“ You take his hand, stopping him. „Don’t make me say it.“

„Why not? I can help y–“ He suddenly stops when he sees your pained expression. „I… Is it… No, it cannot be…“ His gaze is penetrating, his hand squeezing around yours, and you cannot tell if it is pity in his eyes or something else. „Amore…“

„Forget about it,“ you say, embarrassment flooding through you. „Doesn’t matter. I knew it would be a long shot. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just… just promise not to stop being friends with me.“

„Amore, why would I stop being friends with you?“

You’re very close to crying. „I don’t know, because it’ll be weird for you.“

„Why would it be weird? Sure, the ghouls will tease me relentlessly. But there is no rule against it. If anything, it is encouraged to follow your desires. No one will say anything and if they do, I don’t care. I am Papa, I can do what I want.“

You furrow your brow, a tear rolling down your cheek. „I don’t…“

„Why are you crying?“ he asks, rushing to grab your face and wipe the tears away. „It is good, yes? Now it is out. We don’t have to pretend anymore.“

„Pretend?“

„You know how hard it was to hide that I’ve been in love with you for so long?“ He furrows his brow as your jaw drops. „Actually, maybe I should have started with that.“

You smack him again. „Yes, you should have!“

„I’m sorry, I just… I thought I was so obvious. Everyone knew,“ he says. „I thought you just do not feel like that.“

„What do you mean, everyone knew?“

„I…“ He stops. „Well, I have… I told you I am bad at secrets. The ghouls ask me almost every day if we’re finally together. And I was not subtle about it, I wrote a whole sermon about how much it hurts to be in love with you.“

Your eyes widen in realisation. „Love is… love is sweet and bitter.“

„Yes,“ he deadpans. „Did you think I just made that up?“

„How did I not know?“ You grab the front of his jerkin. „How could I be so blind?“

He seems startled by the sudden proximity, gulping visibly. „Cara…“ he trails off, eyes shooting to your mouth. „I don’t… I don’t know.“

It is clear as day that he wants you. That he wanted you all this time. And this is not the first time he looked at you like that. You feel like an idiot.

But at least you can make up for it now.

„We have an hour before the meeting with Sister Imperator,“ you say, moving your hands up to his neck to play with his collar. „I love the outfit, but I really want to see how fast we can take it off.“

Copia’s mouth opens and closes again, no words coming out. You cradle his cheek and he leans into the touch, whimpering softly.

„I need you to tell me what you want,“ you whisper. „If you don’t want this–“

He snaps out of his trance. „I do. Lucifer, I want you so bad. I just… I wasn’t prepared for… I don’t really…“

„Shhh.“ You tilt his chin up so he’s forced to look into your eyes. „It’s okay, we only do what we’re feeling like. But I really really want to touch you.“

Copia nods eagerly and you slowly open the knot on his neck. When your thumb moves to his windpipe, you feel him swallow. He’s visibly nervous, anticipating your every move. It’s tempting to take your time, but you’re on a tight schedule.

„You can touch me, too, you know?“

He chuckles nervously. „Oh, amore… where do I even start?“

Smiling you take his hand and bring it to your cheek. His other hand naturally finds your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes are still on your mouth and he licks his lips like they’re dry.

„Can I kiss you?“ he finally asks.

Your voice comes out in a sultry whisper. „Yes, please.“

Copia leans in and you close your eyes. His lips hover over yours for a second, your noses touching but nothing else. You already feel your insides fluttering in anticipation but it’s nothing compared to the feeling when his lips finally touch yours. He’s tentative, gentle, but slowly gains confidence. You quickly find a rhythm that makes you melt into him, body resting against his. Copia’s hand moves into your hair, pulling your head back lightly to change the angle. He’s more in charge now, moving his lips over yours like he’s never done anything else in his life. You’re a puddle, letting out a moan that comes from somewhere deep within.

Copia falters at the sound, starts grinning into the kiss before he breaks away. „Ah, shit. I need… need a moment.“ He takes a deep breath that he lets out in a laugh, more of a high-pitched giggle really. „It is so hard to believe this is real and not one of my dreams. Tell me I am not dreaming, amore.“ 

The corners of your mouth move to mirror his expression. „No, it’s very much real.“

He huffs out another deep breath, like he’s preparing to do a sprint, then grabs your cheeks and starts pressing kisses all over your face. He’s nuzzling your nose, fingers pressing into your cheeks to make you pout, then he continues to kiss every piece of skin he can reach. „It’s real,“ he says in between. „You’re real. You like me back. Shit shit shit.“

You laugh and he continues, making you squirm and writhe in his arms whenever he reaches an especially tender spot, coaxing all kinds of squeals and giggles out of you.

„Oh those sounds. Those fucking sounds.“ He kisses you on your lips once more, lingers before pulling away. „I love you, amore. You make me so happy.“ 

„I love you, too,“ you say, completely out of breath, your kiss-swollen lips burning. „So much.“

Copia grins again and you think your heart must have doubled in size. When he kisses you again, it’s booming in your chest like it’s attached to a bass speaker. His hands move down to your hips very slowly, tracing every curve before he pulls them flush against his. Feeling his semi-hard cock pressing against you, you decide it’s time for more. The next time he pulls away you trap his plump bottom lip between your teeth, then suck it into your mouth. 

He moans into you, using the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He’s very careful, his tongue licking at your bottom lip before he carefully rubs it against yours. You realise he tastes vaguely sweet and you tickle his tongue back, smiling into the kiss.

You only break away when you feel your lungs burning, a thin thread of spit connecting your mouths. Copia is just as breathless but his hands dig into your butt with surprising force, keeping your hips pressed to his so you don’t pull away any further. Maybe he feels a similar throbbing, the need for friction so deep it’s just not enough.

„I really do love the outfit,“ you say, running your hand over the leather jerkin as you slowly recover. „So… mesmerising. Does it make you feel confident?“

„Yes. Yes. But…“ He takes a shuddering breath, whimpers. „Amore, the pants are really tight.“

You smirk, bite down a chuckle. „Hm, poor baby, think we need to give you some more room, huh?“

Again, he whimpers in reply. His cock is straining against the unforgiving denim, trapped behind the lacings. It’s endearing how worked up he is from making out, but you hate to see him suffer. So you let your fingers dance down his torso all the way to the bulge in his pants. When you touch it, he groans like a wounded animal. 

„Ahhh.“ The sound turns into a high-pitched whimper. „Amore, please. It hurts.“

You want to help him, really, but the lacings are a menace. You fiddle with them until they finally loosen. Copia lets out a sigh of relief that quickly turns into a growl when you pull his cock out of his pants

„Better?“ you ask, giving him a gentle stroke.

His hands dig into your behind. „Mhm.“

„What do you want to do?“ you ask. „Do you want me to help you?“

„No, I think I want…“ He takes a deep breath. „I need to see you, amore. Please, can we take this off?“

You nod and he fiddles with your habit. It’s optional, apart from certain occasions. Most of the time, you’re not wearing the head piece and only pull the black robe over your head quickly before heading out. So it’s easy enough to just rip it off, though you have to do it because he’s clearly too distracted by your hand on his dick to make you let go.

Once it’s off, he’s distracted by something else though.

„You’re so beautiful, amore,“ he whispers, hands busy exploring the curves of your body. „I thought you would be but… merda.“

„Hey, this was supposed to be about undressing you,“ you say.

„Right,“ he says. „Sorry, got carried away.“

He still is because he’s no help at all when you try to open the jerkin. You eventually manage on your own, carefully lifting it off his shoulders while Copia is still occupied with admiring your lacy bra. You know you need to be careful with his outfit and it’s testing your restraint.

„Please, I need cooperation,“ you mumble.

„Yes, yes.“ He helps you, finally, placing the jerkin and his shirt over a nearby chair, the jeans following suit.

„The gloves…“

„I need to to take them off this time, amore. It’s not the same if I don’t feel you.“

You relent and it doesn’t really matter because you’re much more focused on his now almost naked body, the tip of his erection peeking out of his black briefs. It’s a sight to behold, your Papa with his slender figure, the little pouch on his belly, soft lovehandles and strong thighs from performing.

„Is it okay?“ he asks, like he’s not the most beautiful man you have ever laid eyes on.

„You’re…“ You struggle to find the right word. „Copia, you’re all I could ever want.“

He smiles with more confidence now, hands reaching out to you until they finally close around your waist again. You’re still in your underwear so when his now bare fingers touch your skin it sends shivers all over your body. He was right, it’s better without the gloves – at least this time.

„What do you want to do now?“ You run your hands over his chest, unsure where to touch first. He’s soft and warm, dark grey hairs running down his chest, stopping at his navel, then continuing on in the most beautiful happy trail you’ve ever seen.

„I want you on my bed, right now,“ he says. „And then we’ll see what we feel like. But before that I think this needs to go, amore. I want to see all of you.“

He tries to open your bra but it won’t work immediately. You attempt to help him but he swats your hands away with a frown, tutting softly.

„I can do it,“ he insists and he does, after two more failed attempts. You indulge him, it’s fiddly and he’s still trembling in anticipation when he carefully slides the straps off your shoulders. The bra tumbles to the floor and you feel a gush of cool air against your already hard nipples.

„Can I…“

„Copia you can touch me wherever you want,“ you assure him, taking his hands to place them on your breasts. He palms them gently and you fight a chuckle. „However hard you want, too.“

He smiles. „It still feels forbidden for me. I used to chide myself for even thinking about doing this.“

It’s hard not to fall in love with him even more. He must have been imagining this even more times than you did and the thought makes your heart jump. He loses some of his shyness and starts properly groping you, leaning back in to reach your lips. You move your hand back down to stroke him, feeling him so hard and ready for you. He moans into the kiss, breaking away immediately.

„Hm, no,“ he says, taking your hand away. „No, you can’t do that.“

„Why?“

„It’s too good. I won’t last.“

„So what?“

Copia chuckles. „So what? Come on, move your pretty ass to the bed. I have plans.“

You do as he says, even though it feels almost wrong to mess up the tidy black bedding – bedding that you picked when he got a new bed that also you picked. It makes you smile now, thinking about how he practically made you choose his furniture to make sure you’d feel comfortable here.

When you settle into his sheets, Copia stops and takes you in. „You know, I often imagined you like this. And it’s so much better than in my head.“

You smile and he slowly crawls over you, carefully letting his body weight rest on top of you. If you thought your usual hugs were good, this is even better. He’s a little sticky with drying sweat, his skin clinging to yours, and it feels amazing. His mouth captures yours in a short kiss but he’s quickly diverting his attention to your jaw, sucking and nibbling on your skin before he moves down to your neck.

„Let me mark you, amore, please,“ he whispers.

You bury your hand in his hair and give him an encouraging hum. His lips close around the skin just below your ear and he sucks violently. For a second you think you could come just from this, the shocks of pleasure so heavy they make your hips buck. Copia remains undisturbed, licking over the abused skin after a while. He lifts his head and gives a satisfied grunt.

„More,“ you say and his lust-filled eyes meet yours. „All over me.“

Eventually he nods and goes to work. You’ve lost track of time but you imagine there’s still room for this and even if there isn’t, you’re way beyond caring now.

Copia repeats his process a few times all over your body, starting with your clavicle, then the top of your cleavage, taking even more time to suck your nipples into his mouth and leave bruises all over your breasts. You fight the urge to squirm but it’s impossible, especially once he reaches your abdomen and his lips tickle the sensitive skin just above the hem of your panties.

„Off with those,“ he mumbles and this time he doesn’t struggle, removes them in one swift motion and pushes your legs apart despite your protests. „What, now you’re getting shy?“

You are. It’s one thing having him see your breasts but it’s a whole different thing to have him there. Your brain is still processing how this is happening when he continues kissing your skin, focusing on the soft insides of your thighs now.

He chuckles at some point but before you can ask what’s funny he sucks so violently that your hips jerk upward. That only makes him chuckle harder before he blows onto the bruise, pressing one last gentle kiss to it.

„You get impatient, I like that,“ he says. „You’re always so composed, so calm. Who knew all I had to do was put on some nice clothes and you’d be weak for me?“

„I wish I had known, too, I would have come prepared.“

„How so?“ He kisses your other thigh, getting comfortable between your legs. 

„Would’ve worn nicer panties.“

Copia laughs. „No, you would have ruined them. Did you not see how wet they were?“

You didn’t but you felt it. Him saying it makes your cheeks heat up nonetheless and you cover your face with your arm. „Stop.“

„Why?“

„You’re not supposed to be so perfect,“ you whine. „You’re supposed to be awkward and shy.“

Copia chuckles. „I was but then you turned into a puddle just because I sucked on your neck. Gives me great confidence. And besides… it’s you.“

„Me?“

„No one makes me so comfortable,“ he says, resting his cheek against your thigh. „You make it easy to love you.“

Before you can comment on it, his hand closes around your thigh and throws it over his shoulder.  His breath tickles your clit as he presses a kiss just above it. „Let me taste you, amore.“

„You won’t let me pleasure you but now I should let you?“

„Yes, I just… I don’t want to rush it. I’ve been dreaming about this so, so many times. I want…“ He pauses. „I want to make sure it’s good for you. I don’t care about me.“

„But I do.“

„I know, cara mia. But after this, I want you to come back here, every night, and I need to make sure you do.“

Like he thinks you won’t love him anymore if he comes too early? You try to make sense of it but he’s kissing your mound again which makes thinking very hard. 

„Please,“ he says softly, kissing again and again. „I need to.“

It’s not much of a choice. Of course you let him. „But don’t ruin your make-up.“

„Amore, your face has black mouth prints all over it. I’m not the only one who needs to clean up later.“

You open your mouth and he grins up at you, all while your heart swells in your chest. Then his mouth moves downward to finally kiss the spot you really need him at. You can’t help the small jerk of your hips. He ignores it, instead he parts your labia with his tongue and gives you a broad lick. It has your eyes rolling back, fingers digging into the sheets.

„So good,“ he mumbles, accompanied by a low hum. „Perfetto.“

You can’t stay sane like this, it’s too much. He does it a few more times but all you can do is bury your hand in his hair and hold on for dear life. His tongue dips into your entrance but he quickly replaces it with his thumb so he can go back to your clit. You’re getting close very fast but you really don’t want it to happen like this. You want him closer, you don’t want to come alone and you certainly don’t want him to come from humping the mattress.

„Copia, love, please,“ you whine.

He looks up. „Hm?“

„I need you inside of me.“

You can see the reluctance in his eyes but the will to please you is bigger and so he stops and crawls back up to you. He’s a total mess and you definitely have to fix his make-up before leaving, but you don’t have it in you to worry now. 

„Please,“ you say again. „I want you to come with me.“

There’s liquid desire in his eyes, swirling when he takes in your words. „Can I just…“

„Yea,“ you say. „Don’t worry about it. Unless you and that sister…“

„No,“ he interrupts. „Sathanas, no.“

„Okay.“

„Are you sure?“

„Yes.“

He shuffles off his briefs and runs his tip through your folds to get it nice and slick. And it is so slick that he easily starts sliding into you. Copia stops immediately, eyes meeting yours as he slowly pushes in deeper, making sure you’re okay. The stretch is incredible, slow and steady.

And then he bottoms out.

„Oh, amore,“ he whispers just as you whisper his name. The groan that follows gives you goosebumps. He has you clinging to his biceps, nails digging into his pale skin, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You’re flooded with emotions. Love, desire, pleasure. It’s enough to take your breath away.

„Are you well?“ he asks, his hand finding your cheek.

You can only nod, rolling your hips into him to indicate that you’re ready. Copia starts moving ever so slowly, gentle thrusts that hit you just right. He finds a rhythm that suits you both, your combined moans and whimpers filling your ears, increasing ever so slowly.

You don’t know where to hold onto once he gets really fast, hand searching for his. „Love.“

He sees you, moving the hand from your cheek to grab yours, pushing it into the mattress right next to your head.

„I won’t last,“ he grunts, followed by a string of Italian curses. „T-tell me if you’re close, amore.“

„Just a little more.“

That’s enough for him to grab your hips and change the angle. It’s awkward with one hand but he doesn’t have to hold you for long. Hitting you just right every time, your walls clench impossible tight around him and you come with your back arching all on its own, a barely suppressed scream leaving your lips. Copia sets you back down and rides it out, messy, unrhythmic thrusts, before he completely falters and comes with a growl. The pleasure in your veins numbs everything else but you feel his cock throbbing inside of you, nonetheless, even as he collapses. Your legs are still shaking as they wrap around him, keeping him close. 

„Oh, fuck,“ you whisper, clinging to the last bits of consciousness. You feel all tingly inside, almost like fainting.

Copia hums in agreement, shifting onto his side without slipping out. You wrap your arms around him, pressing a suffocating kiss to his lips. He keeps you pressed to his body, chest to chest, even as he softens inside of you.

„I don’t know why you were worried I wouldn’t come into this bed again,“ you joke.

A laugh rumbles in his chest and he presses a tired kiss to your forehead. You give yourself ten more minutes before you make sure you both get clean and to the meeting. Right now, you settle into the blissful feeling in your body, into the comfort of his arms.

„I should get new outfits more often if they lead to this,“ he says. „And you’ve only seen the first one.“

You can imagine the devilish grin on his face, even with your eyes closed. „Perhaps you’d like to model the other ones for me later?“

He kisses your shoulder, lips lingering on your skin. „I would like that very much.“

If you read this far I applaud you, I know it's really long. Thanks for sticking around and feel free to chat with me at any time. I would love to know which parts of the fic spoke to you in particular ♥️

[rwprincess]

If You Leave: Part One (Richie Tozier xGen!Neutral Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7K

Synopsis: A flashback-flashforward relationship with Richie, spanning both Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Richie and Reader have some kind of unspoken-thing, but when the reader has to move away, they both worry about the inevitable (canonically for It, anyway) fate that whomever leaves loses touch and forgets about Derry.

Songfic based on If You Leave by OMD (but I’ve butchered the order because I needed to. Deal with it puts on sunglasses and rides away on tricycle)

A/N: I apologize in advance for any spacing/formatting and possible autocorrect errors. I wrote a good chunk of this on my phone.

CW: Swearing, Child Death/Gore mentions, Pennywise, angst

You’d ‘met’ him in elementary school, when you were both so small and innocent. For a year or two, you only ever saw him in passing; but when you were eleven, you found Richie at the arcade playing one of your favorite games and your friendship really cemented in that moment, over (several) rounds of Pac-Man. You quickly became the best of friends and he integrated you quickly into his small circle, introducing you to Bill, Eddie, and Stan. But your ties to Richie stayed the strongest. Even when you added more friends to your circle, gathering Ben, Bev, and Mike, your connection to Richie was unparalleled. You felt close to all of them very quickly, but there was something about Richie. Perhaps because you two were different and balanced each other out. You didn’t ‘Beep-beep’ him nearly as much as the others and found his constant jokes and ribbing more amusing than they did. And, Richie being the attention-hound he was, thrived on it. He craved your laughter.

Everything was different that summer. Your group felt complete, like you were always meant to be together. You were truly happy with where you were in life, but you noticed your feelings towards Richie started to change. You had treated each other the same for years but now the jokes, the innuendos, the pet names all caused you to blush and feel jittery: with excitement or nervousness, you could never be sure. But you felt like he treated you the same way he always had, the same way he treated all of his friends, affectionately annoying each of you in his special way. So, you pushed the feelings down, away, assuming they’d resolve on their own if forgotten.

In a fortunate, unfortunate circumstance, you suddenly had bigger things to worry about. Kids about town started to go ‘missing,’ just as Bill’s little brother George had. This catapulted you all into some semblance of maturity, living on edge and having to take care of one another. You soon found out why when a malevolent, shapeshifting clown started stalking you and your friends. Of course, when you had your final showdown with this bastard, it became harder to shove your feelings down, seeing Richie in danger. After Eddie’s arm had been broken and Richie and Bill were about to be mauled by Pennywise’s wretched claws, you didn’t want to let Richie out of your sight. You were worried about what could happen to all of you, but especially him. In the sewers, you couldn’t hide from what you already knew any longer; you had to stop lying to yourself about your secret. When Pennywise offered a bargain, Bill in exchange for all of you, your heart stopped as Richie launched into a rant: “I told you, Bill. I fucking told you. I don’t want to die; it’s your fault. You punched me in the face, made me walk through shitty water, you brought me to a fucking crackhead house…and now, I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown.” When he picked up that baseball bat and faced one of his greatest fears, that was the pinpoint moment where you realized you were in love with him. He had just listed all of the reasons why he should be mad at Bill, why it would be wise to just go, but he went with his heart and defended someone he loved anyway. That soft, caring inside is what you loved about him above all else.

“You know, that was the bravest thing I think I’ve ever seen, the way you put everything aside to save Bill.” You ruffled Richie’s hair with your non-bloodied hand and he grinned at you with pride. “Promise me that you’ll never do something that stupid again, though.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I think you and I both know I have many years of stupid things to come.” You laughed together and you shook your head as he continued, “You know, almost being murdered really put that in perspective for me: I don’t have all the time in the world, I’ve gotta start working that stupid shit in while I can.”

“You know what I mean.” You looked at him pointedly, and then without thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, trying to drive home the point that you refused to lose him.

I touch you once, I touch you twice

I won't let go at any price

Bev was the first to go. While she had only been a part of your group for that summer, you'd become extremely close. But it was best for her to live with her aunt, away from her abusive father. You still missed her terribly. She promised to write, to keep in touch, and for the first week or two, she kept her word. But soon, she faded off and you had no way to reach her, really. So she seemed like a brief, happy memory for the group. Bill's family followed suit about a year later; the loss of Georgie was too great to overcome and living where he was so ruthlessly taken took its toll on the family. His parents desperately needed to get out of Derry, to forget. And Bill, being a kid, had no say in his fate. He tearfully said goodbye to each of you throughout his last week in Maine and it felt like the lynchpin of your group was being pulled and it would unravel soon enough without him. Somehow, however, you were able to move on and those of you that remained stayed together. High school could have meant that you would join different cliques and break up anyway, but you were already pigeon-holed as Losers and stayed together, as long as you didn't move away. By your senior year, Mike, Stan, Eddie, and Richie remained along with you. "Five out of eight isn't bad!" Richie always joked.

One day, you were at the quarry reflecting on this, just you and Richie. After years of pining after him, you'd just settled into your fate accepting that it would be an unrequited love. You'd never actually told him outright how you felt, but you'd gone from hinting about it to practically beating him over the head with obvious flirtation. Unluckily for you, Richie was Richie. He spoke that way to everyone and was completely oblivious that when you did it to him, you meant it.

"Hey, Y/N? Promise me something," Richie said to you after a few moments of silence.

"Oh, no, I'm not falling for that again," you replied, not even turning to look at him. You'd learned long ago not to blindly accept hypotheticals from Richie. "Tell me what it is first."

"No, look. I'm serious," he said, sitting up, "Y/N, look at me." You did and it melted your resolve, like always. Perhaps that's why you weren't looking at him before: you knew you couldn't say no when you were actually looking at him. "This is my serious face," he continued, pointing at himself, "just...promise me that if one of us moves, we'll keep in touch. Like, call and write. Visit if we can. And no half-assed promise like those fucking chumps Bev and Bill and Ben. We'll mean it and follow through, right?"

He looked at you so hopefully, wide eyes magnified by his enormously thick glasses. He took your hand, as if to shake on the promise and seal the deal, even though that motion would be impossible in your current positions. He sat over you and the sun created a halo on his dark, unruly curls. "Of course, angel," you swore to him, calling him what he appeared to be at that moment, "I promise. We'll always be friends; we'll always be together, even if we're apart."

I need you now like I need you then

You always said we'd still be friends someday

Of course, the goal was always to get out of Derry. You all talked about it constantly. You had bigger dreams than this small, backwater town could provide; but you never wanted to acknowledge the harsh truth that that meant you'd have to leave your found family and that no one who left Derry ever came back or even wrote. Naturally, it dealt a devastating blow when your parents revealed that they had just been waiting for you to finish school so they could move away, taking you with them. Derry wasn't a college town and if you wanted to pursue that, you'd have to leave anyway, but there was a sort of nail-in-the-coffin feeling to it when your folks sat you down and told you that you'd be moving come summer.

"How am I going to tell Richie?" You lamented to Stan after telling him the news while the two of you were sat in the clubhouse, which was becoming emptier each year and felt like a relic of another time already. "He always takes it hard when someone leaves."

"The hardest," Stan pointed out, not making you feel at ease at all. Richie had a constant need to be liked and acknowledged; there was never enough attention, and each time another one of his friends left, his circle got smaller and he felt like he was 'socially suffocating,' as he once put it. "I also don't think he'll do well with you leaving, specifically," Stan continued. You assumed he meant because you and Richie were so close. It was probably a tie between you and Eddie being his best friend. But there was no doubt, you needed to tell him.

It went about as well as you expected, that is to say, Richie completely lost his mind. You had asked him to come over and went to your room together, just like the million other times you had done so throughout the years. You perched yourself on your bed, smoothing out the covers underneath you and looking down. You had been dreading this moment for hours, days really. When your parents had told you, your immediate thought was how you could possibly break the news to Richie, quickly followed by how you could possibly live without him.

"What's up with you? You're acting like your goldfish died."

"I don't have a fish, Rich." You mumbled, still not making eye contact.

"Yeah, I know, doofus. That's why I don't understand why you're so mopey," he replied and you picked at the bedspread, letting out a shaky sigh as you tried to hold back the tears and gather the courage to tell him. "Okay, now you're kinda freaking me out. C'mon sweetheart, you know can tell me anything. C'mon, tell meee." He walked over and poked you gently in the side to goad you and you allowed a half-smile to cross your lips; oh, how you were going to miss this.

"I'm moving away, Rich." You said, diving in.

"What? Away from my poking? You know that won't work--"

"No, Richie. As in my family is moving away and taking me with." You clarified and shrank back. For once in his life, Richie Tozier was speechless. Words completely failed him, and in that silence, you studied him, trying to remember every feature as though this were the last time you'd see him, even though you had several months left in Derry. He'd become so tall; he'd shot up one summer. At first he was all long legs and elbows, a 'string bean,' but since then, he'd grown into the frame some. His shoulders were broad and the long arms were filled with wiry muscle; he was stronger than he looked. His fashion sense still hadn't really grown: he was still wearing a loud, colorful unbuttoned shirt over a graphic tee, he still had thick, black-rimmed glasses that were for function, not fashion, but it suited him. Lastly, you took in his face. While his expression filled you with pain, the shocked look wracking you with guilt, his features were still so beautiful to you. The sharp, square jawline and high cheekbones; the soft pink lips, exaggerating the way his jaw had dropped at the news; his dark, lively eyes that you loved the most. His eyes always reflected so much of his soul and even though he was always trying to get everyone's attention, those eyes always made you feel like you were the only one he was focused on. Perhaps that was just an illusion, though, a fantasy.

"That's a fucked up joke, Y/N." He said, finally.

"Richie--" you began, but he stood up from your bed and took a step back.

"No, really," he asserted. "You can't be serious."

"It's not for a few months, but… I just found out, I--"

"No," he cut you off, voice becoming cold and stern with anger. "You don't get to do this to me."

"Richie, honey, it's not like I have a choice," you pleaded and reached out towards him to console him, but he took another step back.

"I've, fuck, I've gotta go." He said and quickly turned away, taking long strides out of your room. He was already halfway down the stairs before you even made it off your bed, calling his name after him.

If you leave

I won't cry

I won't waste one single day

But if you leave, don't look back

I'll be running the other way

There was absolutely no way Richie would let you see him cry about this. That's why he got the hell out of dodge so quickly, to hide the tears that threatened to fall. He also knew he couldn't trust his words and didn't want to say something he might regret. He was known for being a motor-mouth, Trashmouth Tozier, and if he started in, telling you what he thought and how he felt, he might never stop the verbal diarrhea. He knew this whole situation wasn't your fault, and he imagined that you hated it, too, but he couldn't trust that he wouldn't lash out, that all of those angry thoughts and words would come out and be your cross to bear. He also didn't trust himself from telling you how he felt about you these past few years; how he always thought that when you left, it would be together.

He kept his distance for a bit. The first two days, you allotted him that. It was a lot to process as is, and you felt pangs of guilt and pain whenever you caught a glance of him in the halls or in class. But, lying awake on that second night, it hit you how limited your time together truly was. You could not allow yourself or Richie to waste it on being petty and hurt feelings. You wouldn't let him whittle away the short, precious months you had left until you had nothing. So, you cornered him, naturally. You had asked Eddie to invite Richie to the clubhouse to...well, more or less ambush him.

He clearly did not expect you as you came down the ladder, as you heard him curse out the absent Eddie, "That fucking traitor!"

"Look, Rich. This is ridiculous. I know you're mad and upset and I am, too. But I, we, don't have a choice. My parents have arranged things and said we're moving near the end of the school year. Do you really want to spend the time we have left being mad at me? Avoiding me?"

"...No. Guess not," he pouted and kicked the dirt floor. "I just...I hate how unfair this is. It's always like this. Every Loser gets picked up and moved out and...and then it's like they never existed. Like they're only in our heads. And I'm fucking sick of it. But I never thought," he paused and swallowed hard, then finally met your eyes, "but I never thought it would be you."

"I know what you mean, but. Well, we've always talked about getting out of here, we knew it would come some day."

"Not like this!" He snapped back.

"I'm sorry, Richie, we have no choice ---"

"We were supposed to!" He cut you off with a shout, then his voice grew soft, "I mean, I always thought...I always thought we'd leave together. It's not supposed to be one or the other. What am I going to do without you?" His pleading eyes took on a wet sheen as he blinked through the tears forming. There was nowhere to run to now, and nowhere to hide everything he had been trying to spare you. "Nobody who ever leaves writes or calls and, fuck, I can't even breathe right now thinking about never hearing from you again." A shuddering gasp wracked his body before the sobs set in.

You didn't hesitate to step forward and put your arms around him. His head instantly dropped to your shoulder, wetting your shirt with his tears. "I promised you. I'll keep in touch." You thought back to that day at the quarry and hoped he remembered it, too.

"That's what they all say," came his muffled reply from your shoulder.

"I know. But I mean it. I don't know what to do without you, either, y'know? I--I love you, Richie." He tensed up in your arms and you instantly regretted saying it. He stood up fully, placing his hands on your upper arms and gazing down at you.

"But, not in the way I love you, right?" He asked and your stomach plummeted in fear, thinking he would remind you that you were just friends. "Y/N, I love you so much. I should have told you sooner, but I thought I had more time. Like it was me and you against the world. I'm...I'm sorry that I have to be afraid to lose you to tell you how I really feel. Pretty chickenshit, I guess. But I thought I'd lose you by telling you. Seeing as I will either way, I just--" You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

"I think I do love you the same way, if I'm understanding you. I'm a fucking coward too." You laughed, but it was his turn to interrupt you with a kiss. Soft, yet passionate; filled with so many unspoken words and years of hidden feelings.

Seven years went under the bridge

Like time was standing still

You made up for lost time in the following months, much to the rest of The Losers' chagrin.

"I've heard of being attached at the hip, not attached at the lips," Eddie cried, throwing an empty cola can at you and Richie nestled together in the hammock, "Cut it out! Oh my God!"

"Oh, Eddie, dear, are you jealous?" You asked him, teasing.

"You're more than welcome to join us. I mean, I'm sure we could make room for you," Richie suggested and then laughed, turning to your slightly reddened face, "Oh, come on, you know you're my one and only. At least until you leave, then it's back to Eddie's mom!" You nearly pushed him out of the hammock for that one.

Of course, you couldn’t stop the passing of time, and the last few months sped by faster than any others ever had. You finally had the relationship you wanted with Richie and your heart felt so full, but that only meant the ache was greater as each day ticked off the calendar. You spent that last night together, from dusk until dawn. Neither of you could sleep at all, to waste what precious time you had left together. Instead, you spent it talking: laughing at memories together, crying about how much you’d miss the other, making numerous declarations of how much you loved each other (in various ways). When the time came to finally depart, neither of you could really let go.

“You know I’ll always be thinking of you, right?” You told him, holding him tightly around the waist as you looked up into his eyes.

“I know you will, I mean, look at me. Who wouldn’t?” He scoffed and gave you a goofy grin, full of fake confidence to keep his face from crumbling at the reality of the situation. “I’ll be thinking of you, too.” He whispered and kissed you on the forehead.

Heaven knows what happens now

You've got to, you've gotta say you will

I touch you once, I touch you twice

I won't let go at any price

You kept your promise longer than anyone else had. You called and wrote every day for the first month or so, but it seemed like other forces were at work, driving a wedge between you and your old life. It was odd how quickly Derry began to leave your memory. As soon as you crossed the line out of town with finality, it began to fade away. At first, it was just the people you passed in the hallways or on the streets but never knew the names of. Their faces began to blur and become hard to recollect, but they weren’t important. But as time went on, you began to lose the others, too, even the ones most important to you. You lost Ben first, as you didn’t spend as much time with him as the others. Then Mike, Bill, Stan. It took a few years to lose your grasp on Bev and Eddie, but their faces and names crumbled away from the recesses of your brain, too. Last to go, was of course, Richie. And even though your conscious mind forgot him, your heart refused to let go. You became unaware of his existence in your waking hours, but sometimes you would wake and hazily recall some dream with a boy you weren’t sure you had ever met. One with coke-bottle glasses, a carefree smile, and eyes that beheld you like you were the only person that mattered in this world.

I need you now like I need you then

You always said we'd meet again...some day

[jenomark]

PART 3: XIAOJUN, THE EATER

➔Pairing: Lucas x Reader (Female) | Xiaojun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Hendery ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for people with eating disorders or food issues. Food is mentioned a lot in this one, as food is Xiaojun’s kink. If that makes you uncomfortable, I would suggest skipping this part. Oral (female). Angst. Obsessive behavior. Honestly, I realize how uncomfortable this series is to read because it touches on a lot of serious issues involved around sex. Read with caution. ➔Word count: 4,656

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

“Yeah, right there...that’s good...keep going..yeah, right there.”

  You set the couch down on your side with a thud. Lucas set his side down softly and stood back to get a good look at his new purchase. Well, it wasn’t just his purchase, but yours, too. To him, it was the family couch, the very thing that would bind the two of you together into holy matrimony land. 

“It looks perfect in here,” he said. “Really ties the room together.”

  You were on the verge of sniggering- and it was too late for you to retract any trace of amusement -when Lucas looked up and asked what you found so funny. He looked disappointed, which made you feel a twinge of guilt.

 “Nothing. It’s nothing.” you said, letting the humor slide from your face. “It’s just....Lucas, you never care about how the room looks. We’ve always made fun of people like that.”

“I do care.” he said. “Every time you walk into a room, suddenly, everything looks more beautiful.”

“Okay. That was really cheesy.”

Lucas laughed, dissolving any of the guilt you would have let fester. His smile was wide, his eyes twinkling and bright. “You’re right. I don’t know what has gotten into me.”

  He had The Look in his eye. Before he could suggest that you break the couch in with a hot round of sex, you told him you were on your period. His face fell, and for just a moment, you began to feel bad again. The lies were getting easier lately, but there was something about this particular one that felt traitorous. He wasn’t the type of guy to root through the trash to find tampon wrappers as evidence. He was doing his part as the idiot boyfriend, but you, you were going to push things too far.

  Fuck him on the couch, you tried to convince yourself. He’s your maybe fiance.  Maybe.

   An awkward silence passed. Lucas spun around and took a careful seat on the new couch. His big body sunk into the cushions in a way that hugged him better than you could. He groaned happily and looked so smug that he had made a good choice. Good job. Good girlfriend. Good couch. He patted the seat next to him and waited for you to join him.

“I should actually get going.” you said, wishing desperately that you sounded apologetic.

Expecting it, Lucas stood up. “I’ll drive you.”

  His quick movements startled you. He stepped forward, as if it was already decided. You wouldn’t be able to convince him that you didn’t need a ride, which is how you ended up sitting in his passenger seat, your knees knocked together, and your bag clutched tightly to your chest. So, he wasn’t the type to root through the trash, but it seemed like he was looking through you, instead.

 “Where am I driving to today?” he asked. He stuck his key in the ignition. He opened the window and inhaled the air, like it was the first time he was breathing. “I’m free. You could ditch your friends and drive around with me, like we used to.”

  You smiled to yourself when all the memories resurfaced. Whenever you and Lucas got into arguments, you didn’t let it draw on for hours. He suggested you take a car ride together. He would drive, and you would sit in silence until he made you laugh like clockwork. You always wound up somewhere secluded, you sitting on the hood of his car and him apologizing for whatever he did. On the rare occasion, you were the one apologizing, offering him your body on whatever surface was publicly available. 

“But we’re not arguing.” you said. “Why else would we need to take a ride?”

  Lucas looked over at you. You could see all of the questions in his eyes, the way he turned his head so he wouldn’t have to ask them. “Right. I guess there is no need, then.”

  He took your hand and held it between you and him. You thought of the couch being wedged between you, and now the console. If Lucas was able to read minds, he would read all of the things you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize for. About the job. About the ring. About all the walls you were building around yourself to keep him out.

  Lucas dropped you off in front of a bakery. You said you were meeting an old friend, which was true, but it was the only truth. 

   You walked a few blocks away from where Lucas dropped you off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You kept looking over your shoulder, peering into windows of passing cars to make sure Lucas wasn’t in one of them. You probably looked as crazy as you felt.

  As you arrived at your destination, you got a text message from Lucas. You looked around one more time before diving into your phone.

Lucas: Text me before you come home. I’d like to clean up the place before you get in. Love you so much.

You: Love you.

  You stowed your phone back into your bag and looked up at the restaurant you had stopped in front of. The sign hanging from an iron hook was hard to read, but you had been coming there for a long time, and you didn’t need a sign to know you were at the right place. The door swung open, a little tinkling bell alerting everyone in the near vicinity that a customer had left. The person held the door open for you, so you did a little jog to get inside.

  You didn’t normally like buffets, and you definitely didn’t like little hipster buffets nestled between chic coffee houses and insurance agencies. On the outside, it looked a bit like a cafe; it was so nondescript. On the inside, it was anything but. Besides the unsettling minimalism on the walls, everything else was chaotic. The first room, the dining room, was full of mismatched chairs: bean bags, beach chairs, stools of various sizes, and the random childs tricycle seat. Each table looked like it had been thrifted from different cafes and upscale restaurants. If you were a tourist looking for a place to eat and you had walked in, you would surely walk right back out. 

“Is he here?” you asked the hostess waiting at the front. She stood at a podium made of discarded cutlery.

“Punctual as always,” she said. “Talking to the servers, no doubt scaring away the customers. You know how he is.”

 You thanked her and glided through the dining room, avoiding the eyes of the people eating. It was rude to stare as someone ate, and if he saw you staring, it would turn him off. He was all about manners of every kind. 

 You found him at the serving station, standing between each table talking to the man who owned the place. His back was turned to you, his small frame handsome, even from behind. You gandered at the food on display. There were so many options gathered in one place; a taste of the city, if the city ate with childrens cutlery shaped like zoo animals.

 You stood and waited for him to stop speaking. You looked down at your heels, the patent leather shiny and new. The dress you wore was skin tight and left very little to the imagination. Tan, so as not to hurt his sensitive eyes. You thought you looked like a cheap whore trying to look expensive, but it was always less about the clothes, and more about being able to see every curve of your body. With him, unlike with Lucas, nothing was hidden from sight.

  You were surprised Lucas hadn’t asked who you were dressing up for, but he was so oblivious to fashion, that he probably assumed you and your friends were trying to out-pretty eachother. As long as you didn’t leave the house wearing designer clothes, your boyfriend would hardly notice a thing. Even if he did, you knew he’d never say anything about it.

 As if feeling you standing near him, he stopped speaking and turned toward you. He searched your eyes, his lips wondering whether or not they should pull up into a smile.

“You’re late.” he mouthed.

You smiled apologetically, meaning it. 

  Xiaojun. If happiness was a face, it belonged to him. He was always smiling, always making friends wherever he went. Everyone loved him, and it was a genuine love. You started to believe that he collected people like one would collect hats, and that maybe you were one of those lucky people. He told you once that he had to smile and talk to everybody, or they would talk about him first.

 Xiaojun excused himself and made his way across the room. You gave him your cheek, bending down a little because he was shorter than you, and he kissed it. Xiaojun didn’t love public displays of affection. He took your hand and started introducing you to the new foods the restaurant was bringing into their daily mix. For Xiaojun, it would be the highlight of his day.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

  You nodded excitedly, but your insides felt like knotting up. You had purposely not eaten for this moment, knowing what was required of you. Yet, your appetite was anything but big. 

“Good,” he said. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable.  I’ll whip you up a plate, love.”

  You went and found a table surrounded by child-sized chairs someone would find in a doctors office. Xiaojun would find it funny to see your larger, adult body in a chair too small for you. You sat, checked your teeth in a mirror and pulled out your phone to check your messages. When you were with other clients, you would never dare  check your phone, but Hendery’s texts were coming in so frequently that you didn’t have a choice.

Hendery: I miss you.

Hendery: I’m bored.

Hendery: Can we fuck later?

Hendery: I saw this program earlier and it reminded me of you.

Hendery: So, I was thinking.....

  You put your phone away as Xiaojun turned the corner. He had three plates of food: one plate in each hand, and another balancing on his forearm. Like a pro, he set them down on your side of the table without spilling anything. 

“Good choice of seats.” he said, sitting down.

  There wasn’t any food in front of him. You looked down at the food in front of you and felt the knots in your stomach tightening. Xiaojun didn’t let any of the food touch, but the plates were still full of steak, fish, potatoes and rice. You took a napkin off the table and folded it over your lap.

“You look pretty today.” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, careful to keep your manners up to par.

  You picked up your plastic shark fork and started eating. Rice first, veggies next. You ate slowly, chewing thoughtfully, looking up at Xiaojun after swallowing each bite. His head was leaning on his hand, and he had a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, smiling. “Is it me? Have I done something?”

“No!” you were quick to say. You took a sip of water to wash the food down. “I have some things going on in my personal life.”

“Ah, it’s like that.”

“Yeah,” you said. “But this food is really good, and I can’t imagine sharing my company with anyone else in the world.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” 

  You shoveled more rice into your mouth, closing your mouth to mind your manners. You didn’t speak until it was all chewed and swallowed. “ I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Xiaojun, you know you’re my favorite.”

  He didn’t believe it and neither did you, but it was the fantasy that kept you going. Xiaojun leaned back in his chair and watched you devour two full plates. As you got to your third, you could see the lust in his eyes. You turned to the side so he could see how bloated your belly was.

“Still hungry?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes, very.” you said. “I’m famished.”

  You finished the third plate of food. Xiaojun went up to get you a plate of dessert, which meant that you didn’t have to pretend much anymore. You felt like vomiting from all the consumption. You sat back in your chair as much as you could and kicked your legs out until you were almost laying horizontal. 

 Eating. It was Xiaojun’s thing. He never ate himself, and in the beginning, you wondered if food was an issue for him. He opened up on the second date, eating a morsel for himself before feeding you the rest of what he had ordered. For Xiaojun, it was more about the care. If he fed you, he cared about you. He loved nothing more than to get you food (always paying for it, of course) and watch you pig out. Seeing you so stuffed turned him on, and if your belly was a little swollen, he would get an instant hard-on.

 You never knew about certain kinks until you were welcomed into the sex industry. Someone like Xiaojun might have scared you off if you were still green, but meeting him as an experienced worker helped the both of you. Xiaojun became a client, as well as a friend. And your relationship was even better, because it was him who had introduced you to people like Ten. Deep down, you also liked to care for others. 

  Xiaojun came back with a chocolate lava cake made special by the kitchen. He set it down in front of you like he had set down a solid bar of gold. You looked at the cake like he might as well had. Xiaojun paid very well, so it was easy to keep acting.

“I didn’t think you were that hungry,” he said. “One is enough. I don’t want you bursting at the seams, love.”

  He sat down in his seat. He clapped his hands excitedly and picked up a utensil with a dolphin on the end. He would be feeding you for the grand finale. Xiaojun picked up a chunk and watched the chocolate dribble out onto the plate. In other scenarios, you would have wiped your finger in the pooling chocolate and brought it straight to your lips, but he wouldn’t have liked that. You opened your mouth and kept your hands by your side. Xiaojun stuck the utensil in your mouth. You chewed the piece, the chocolate too rich for you to truly enjoy.

  When he saw that you had a chocolate morsel hanging from the corner of your lip, Xiaojun got out of his chair and kissed you clean. It was the only instance where public displays of affection and good manners were completely forgotten. 

  You felt so full of food as you left the restaurant. You wobbled a little in your heels as you walked. Xiaojun had his hand on your back, and he was checking on you to make sure you were okay. He kept looking at the bloat in your stomach, which meant that he was ready for sex. A car couldn’t come fast enough for him.

“I know I ask too much of you,” he said. “But we should do this more often. I really like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too.”

  You leaned down to kiss him. No tongue, just a peck. When you pulled away, Xiaojun had hearts in his eyes. You’ve always wanted to ask him why he didn’t just get a girlfriend who he could feed and fuck. He was a very attractive man, with a heart of gold. He didn’t have to be alone. You never got around to asking him because you began to understand why someone would live like that. What you and him did was an escape, and that escape was untouchable. Inviting anyone else in would change everything, and change is what you hated most.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling bashful.

  You looked at your feet before looking down the street for the car. It should have been there by now. You inspected the area. People were going in and out of cars, some rushing to get inside buildings and out of the heat of the sun. No one was stopping to watch life, no one caring about anything other than their own busy lives. You kept searching and searching for some sign that life could slow down, and that’s when you saw him: Hendery.

 “What the fuck.” you whispered.

  Hendery was standing across the street. He was watching you with Xiaojun. He looked like his heart was being torn in two in real time, the agony on his face displayed for all of the pedestrians.. Before you could make a move, he was leaving the area.

You turned to Xiaojun. “Stay right here. I’ll be back. Please don’t leave without me.”

“Is everything okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Yeah,” you said, walking. “Everything is just great.”

  You didn’t know why leaving Xiaojun and chasing down Hendery seemed like the best idea. He looked so upset, which really shouldn’t have been your problem. Outside of the bedroom, Hendery was not your responsibility.  But you had told him your whole life story, and you didn’t know how capable he was of tracking down a vet assistant named Lucas, and telling him all about you like he was some scorned lover.

“Hendery!” you called.

  You could see him up ahead. You crossed the street. Once you hit the sidewalk, you started running as much as your heels allowed. Your feet hurt like hell, but you had to reach him before he did anything hasty.

“Will you just stop,” you yelled, coming up behind him. He was ignoring you. “You’re not making this easy for me, Hendery.”

 Hendery stopped so suddenly that you almost collided with him. You turned to see if Xiaojun was watching, but thankfully, he wasn’t.

“Do you love him?” Hendery asked, spitting out the word love like it was dirty. 

“What?” you asked. “Are you playing the part of the jealous lover now? I’m at work, Hendery. You know what I do for a living. You’ve hired me before, remember? ”

“You’re right,” Hendery said. “I’m sorry”

  He started walking again. You followed behind, turning the corner with him. You didn’t have time to react before he was kissing you and pushing you up against the wall of a bank. His hands were all over your body. You pushed them out from going underneath your dress. You covered the bloat of your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “When I see you, I just…”

“It’s fine.” you said, trying to regain the upper hand.

  A year or two ago there was a client who had fallen so deeply in love with you that he kept following you everywhere. He would show up when you were out with Lucas, which really made things complicated. You didn’t want to get the police involved, but Lucas insisted that no weirdo could keep harassing his girlfriend. Lucas never found out why the client did what he did, or that you had led him on for the sake of money.

“I think I should stop seeing you,” Hendery said. “You’re all I think about and it’s not healthy.”

  Since taking his virginity, you saw Hendery multiple times. You never went back to your real home, but instead found hotels to fuck in. His sexual prowess had improved through practice. He was easily making you come twice a night when you were with him. It wasn’t the sex that had done it for him, though. You had started to relax your friendship with him, choosing to keep things business-only. As you did that, he started trying to get you to come a little closer again. The more you resisted, the more obsessed Hendery became. 

“Sleep on the decision,” you said. “If you still feel the same way I-”

  You didn’t know what else to say. There was part of you that didn’t want to lose the extra income that Hendery gave you. He was also easier to deal with when his emotions weren’t involved, and you really saw a future as friends with him.

“I don’t think I should talk to you again.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’ll never stop falling for you, and I should have known that everything you said was a lie.”

 You thought about defending yourself, but Xiaojun had turned the corner and his eyes were going from you, to Hendery.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Hendery said. “Take this.” He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a few bills. He stuck them in the collar of your dress, which made you feel lower than you had felt in awhile.

  You were in Xiaojuns bed, and he was in between your legs eating you out. He was good at it, but your mind was too far away and you couldn’t appreciate how tender he was being. You reached down to touch his hair as he sucked on your clit. You blinked away your thoughts and moaned on command. Oral sex was all you and Xiaojun ever did together, so he was bound to realize something was awry.

“Is it the boy?” Xiaojun asked, coming up for air. He kissed your inner thigh. “The one in front of the bank? The one that treated you rudely?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m sorry I’m not responsive. If you want your money back, I’ll understand.”

  Xiaojun set his chin on your lower tummy. Your legs were over his shoulder, and your body was propped up by a pillow so you could see everything he was doing. He said, ��Watching you stuff yourself was more than enough for me, love.”

  You were thankful when Xiaojun got up and handed you your panties. You slid them on and sat on his bed, your dress still sitting like a tight ring around your waist. No client had ever gotten to you so much that they affected another. 

“He caught feelings?” Xiaojun asked. He looked down at his cock. He was still hard. “Not hard to do with you.”

“Something like that.” you said, feeling sorry for Hendery. For Xiaojun. For Lucas. For yourself.

“Don’t take it personally,” Xiaojun said. “He just likes the idea of you. You probably fucked him better than any of his girlfriends ever did.”

“He was a virgin.”

Xiaojun sighed. “That explains it. He’ll move on. You’ll see.”

  But will I move on? You thought. You didn’t have feelings for Hendery, but in the shortest amount of time, he was so ingrained in your life that it was hard to let him go. Normally, when clients moved on, you counted your lucky stars. This time, you didn’t know which part to mourn first. 

“He gave me money for talking to me, like I’m some whore,” you said. “I think that’s what hurts the most.” 

“People do crazy things when they’re hurt.” Xiaojun said. 

  You laid back on Xiaojuns bed. He laid back with you, his face angled towards yours. His breath was sweet. You thought about kissing him then and there, but he didn’t feel like a paying client, and you didn’t want to make the moment any more weird than it was.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat me out some more?” you asked. “Or I can fuck your face? You always like it when I fuck your face.”

Xiaojun laughed. “That, I do.”

  Before going back to Lucas, you stopped at your apartment and changed clothes. You had finally found Ten’s blanket hidden in the hordes of laundry you still had to do. After putting on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you walked around the apartment, thinking about how you should make it more inhabitable and finally move in, once and for all. You could cut one place out and make room in your crazy life for something else. 

  There wasn’t much distance between your faux apartment and Lucas’. You could walk there, which is exactly what you decided to do. Since it wasn’t that far, there was no reason you couldn’t make the lie more believable. Besides, you were getting tired of going to so many places at once.

You pulled out your phone and pulled up Lucas’ name. You took a deep breath before you texted him.

You: on my way home..it’s a beautiful night for a walk.

Lucas: You’re walking? I’ll come get you. Let me know where you are.

You: NO....clean like you wanted..knowing you, the place is a mess ; ) 

Lucas: Okay, but be careful. There are a lot of crazy people out there. A lot of freaks.

  You walked the way home thinking about all your little freaks. Each one fit into your life in a box, stored away in your messy closet of a mind. Eventually, you figured they would either sort themselves out, or you’d be around long enough to watch every box tumble down to the floor, their contents spilling out for the world to see.

 You hadn’t seen Ten since the last time. He mentioned how he had gotten a partner, said he would call you when they both wanted you around for a little fun.

 Hendery texted you one last “I’m sorry.” after you left Xiaojun for the night. You stared at the screen for far too long, trying to think of something to say. Instead, you just deleted the message and kept it moving.

  Xiaojun was so sweet after you left. He gave you the biggest hug and told you everything would work out if you let it. It all had to start with you. You wanted to believe it.

 You made it to Lucas’ apartment in ten minutes, out of shape and out of breath. You stood on the steps, just listening to the life of the city, before going inside. You trudged up the steps to the sound of music coming from inside of the apartment. You opened the door and were met with candles and a record player, and Lucas on one knee.

“I know what this looks like,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

“It looks like a proposal.” you said, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Lucas smiled. “Would you want to marry me?”

  You didn’t answer because you didn’t know what to say. Lucas looked down at the little box he held in his hands. He got off his knees and stood up, his body casting shadows on the walls.

“I’ll take that as a no.” he said.

“We’re too young,” you said. “But I do love you, Lucas.”

  You expected him to put the box away and break up with you. After all, what girlfriend rejects a proposal before it even happens. But Lucas just smiled and shook his head, as if your reaction was totally expected. He held the box out to you and opened it. Instead of a ring, inside was a silver key.

“I want you to move in with me,” he said.” And then, when you feel like we’re old enough, I’d like to make you an honest woman.”

Honest woman? How apt, you thought. 

  You looked down at the key. There were so many questions swimming in your mind: A key? Where is the ring I saw? What the fuck is going on? But they were all swept away with the tide when you nodded, a single agreement sealing everything. Lucas came and lifted you off your feet.

“Now,” he said. “Let's make passionate love on our new couch. I don’t care if you’re on your period.”

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 15

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1610

Rating:  E

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 15

It was too easy to fall into a sense of comfortable security while you were navigating your relationship with Bucky and Steve.  Whether it was false or not, you still had moments where it scared you how many defenses you’d let down when you were with them.  Two weeks after the incident at the library and you were heading out to parks again with Geo and Bucky.  A month of nothing popping up on your radar and you were relaxed enough not to keep looking around everywhere while you were out.  It wasn’t a conscious thing, but if you were asked why you’d relaxed so much you might have said that it was just a hope that the people after you had seen you with the Avengers and figured you were too difficult a target to pin down.

It was hard to say if it was exactly that.  The truth was that being that relaxed most of the time made those times you weren’t relaxed worse.  When it all bubbled up that it was quite possible that there were people out there that still wanted to get their hands on Geo you’d have a panic attack and on more than one occasion Steve and Bucky had needed to talk you down from doing something really rash or stupid.

You wished that there would be some kind of break in the case so that whoever the hell it was that had been hunting you could be arrested and your son could get a normal fucking life.  Or at least a happy and stable one.  Steve kept you up-to-date with what was going on, but even after almost two months of having people undercover they’d only managed to get in with a few of the larger dealers on the island and they still didn’t have the supplier.

You figured it had to happen some time though, so even when those panic attacks hit, you didn’t run.  You were falling in love and as much as you were trying to protect Geo from becoming attached to Bucky or Steve you knew he already was.  And not just to Bucky or Steve, but to Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, and FRIDAY too.  You had to commit to this working for his sake and hope it wasn’t the worst decision you’d ever made.

They made it easy to commit to though.  The three of you had been following the plan you and Steve had set out.  Bucky had been sticking to your side for every outing.  He came to parks and museums with you, always making sure to stay alert ever when Geo was babbling away to him or using him as some kind of organic jungle gym.  Even after a month and a half of no signs of being followed he stayed alert in ways you had stopped being.  He noticed everything, and it might have been part of the reason why you had started to relax so much.

The three of you had been taking time to bond with each other individually as well as together. It was working well and even when you did have small flares of jealousy over what might have been perceived as a special bond between Bucky and Steve that you didn't always feel you shared, they were quickly chased away when your own unique bond with each man was pulled into the spotlight.

This was not at all the life you had envisioned for yourself when you’d started college all those years ago, but considering the huge dip the roller coaster that was your life had taken, while this new high was unique, but you were definitely enjoying it.

Bucky had organized a trip to the Math Museum.  He’d had to call ahead because the security at the venue was pretty tight and he didn’t want to have to explain why he was carrying two different handguns and three different knives into a children’s museum.

They let the three of you through the gift shop and as soon as you’d entered the play area Geo had rushed to the square wheeled tricycles and started riding one of them around in circles, occasionally needing Bucky to give him a little push but squealing with excitement anytime he got any kind of speed up.

“We really need to get that kid a bike,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, things like bikes were never really very practical,” you admitted. “I guess if we’re sticking around we can get one.”

Bucky smiled.  It was a smile that made his eyes look soft and content and he wrapped his arm around your waist.  “Next time we go out, we should take him to get one.”

Geo climbed off the bike and toddled over to you.  You crouched down to face him and he flopped down onto the ground, his fingers opening and closing on the ground.  “Down dare,” he said.

“You want to go downstairs?”  You asked.

“They down dare,” he said and patted the floor.

“Okay, come on kiddo,” Bucky said, picking him up so he was upside down, kicking and giggling in delight.  “Let’s go see downstairs.”

Bucky carried Geo down the stairs and it was clear even by halfway down what had been calling to Geo.  The room was filled with interactive screens, battling robots, and floors that lit up with different games.  Geo came alive.  Running from activity to activity with no pattern you could follow but a smile that wouldn’t leave his face.  There was no other kid there, regardless of their age that could keep up with him.  Every machine seemed to want to please Geo and they all performed their roles perfectly for him.

It felt like you were down there for hours.  Geo just jumping from one thing to the next.  Eventually he started to wane and he ended up just lying down in the middle of the mathsquare - much to the annoyance at the kids trying to play on it.

Bucky went and scooped him up.  “Okay, Gee, how about we go and get some hotdogs?”

“Bug-key,” Geo whined, flopping dramatically in his arms.

“Maybe we should just get him home, he looks pretty tired,” you said, as you walked upstairs with Bucky.

“Didn’t you want to head down to the farmer’s market?”  Bucky asked.  “You have the stroller right?”

You nodded.  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

You grabbed the stroller and Bucky put the little boy in it.  Geo immediately shoved his thumb in his mouth and held his hand up.  Bucky dug around in this backpack and pulled out the tablet, giving it to Geo who immediately hugged it and closed his eyes.

Moments like these gave you such mixed feelings.  Bucky had gotten so good with Geo he could read him without Geo using his words.  He was becoming a dad to him more and more each day.  It was wonderful in so many ways.  Both Steve and Bucky seemed to love that role and it was rare to find men like that and here you had two who not only obviously liked Geo and cared about his wellbeing, but cared about you too and accepted that the two of you came as a package.  Yet it was also terrifying.  The more they fit that role the worse it would hurt if it didn’t last.  It was so soon in your romantic relationship and it was so much pressure to love up to that even under normal circumstances things would feel like they were moving too fast and were too fragile to hold onto.  And these were far from normal circumstances.

Bucky offered you his arm and you hooked yours around it and began the walk past Madison Square Park.

It wasn’t a long walk to Union Square Park and it was a nice day out.  Geo was deep asleep by the time you arrived at the bustling markets.

“I consider myself a native and I don’t think I’ve ever been to these markets before,” Bucky said as you passed under the banner welcoming you to the markets.   “There’s so much stuff.”

“What do you want to get?  Purple carrots?  Edible flowers? Little chilies that blow your head off?”  You asked.

“Yes to all of those things,” he agreed.  “But I’m hungry right now, so let's find something we can eat as we walk around.”

You found a place selling pastries and paninis and grabbed a sandwich each to eat as you strolled the markets. Bucky kept getting ideas for meals with every new stall.  Your reusable bags were soon filled with colorful tomatoes and chilies, purple carrots, rainbow chard, edible flowers, crusty bread, pickles bottled in Amish country, fresh herbs, raw honey and milk, and a selection of cured meats and cheeses. 

“I think we might have enough,” you said as Bucky started browsing punnets of fresh berries.

“We don’t have any fruit,” he argued.  Geo likes blueberries and I could make a mixed berry pie.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t argue with pie,” you said.

Bucky had selected a few punnets and his phone rang as he went to pay.  You took over for him as he answered the phone.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up?”  He said, pressing the phone to his ear.  “We’re at Union Square… Five minutes if I can get a cab…  Alright, see you soon.”

He hung up the phone and looked at you.  “Gonna have to go.  Steve said it’s urgent.”

“Good urgent or bad?”  You said, a familiar panic starting to close in around your heart like a snake.

“I don’t know. Come on,” he said, leading you back out of the markets. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

// NEXT

[et-lesailes]

001. a hollywood love story // young!chris evans x reader. --> COMING TONIGHT!

When you last saw him, he was on the couch with a girl on either side of him, taking turns making out with each. You’ve heard he’s quite the party boy, dabbling in drugs and alcohol, and practically drowning in female companionship. You thought he was dating Jessica Biel, but seeing his tongue shoved down this blonde’s throat as his hand snakes up the thigh of the brunette, you figure they’re not as committed or exclusive as they let on.

Quite honestly, you’re not interested in him in terms of networking. He isn’t going to do you any favors, he’s probably in a phase where he needs to look out for himself before anyone else. And you completely understand. It’s what Hollywood does to you-- makes you selfish, desperate, twisted. You know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but damn, is it a long tunnel.

You’ve barely even realized the male in front of you is still talking. You’re about to shut him down when you see Chris enter the kitchen, without his little playthings, surprisingly enough. The two of you make eye contact. You don’t even have to try; you can already tell he’s intrigued. You aren’t sure whether that’s flattering or concerning. He seems like he’d be intrigued by a hobo, as long as said hobo were to have a vagina. He walks over to you with a gait of confidence, corner of his lips already tugging upwards. He steps in right next to the man, his presence shutting him up.

“Hey there. Haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name, beautiful?”

002. lady & the tramp // colin shea x rich!reader. --> COMING 1.19!

There was one man who stood out to you in particular. Why, you had no idea. He was wearing a ratty t-shirt and jeans, probably on his fourth beer and talking louder than anyone else at the bar. He currently had a girl on each arm, and he was clearly loving the attention. 

He seemed like a douche. And therefore, you wanted him. Fuck all the rich, lazy men you were accustomed to. This boy looked… fun. He was the life of the party, he was a funny drunk, and he had everyone around him lively and excited. When a song he apparently enjoyed started playing, he even sang along to it. You had never seen someone so carefree and down-to-earth. 

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down at the lit up screen. Your mother. “Y/N, where are you?? This is ridiculous. Come back home right now, Alexander is waiting to meet you.” 

You scoffed and slipped the phone into your bag, downing the rest of your drink and standing up. You had never had an issue approaching a boy in your life; rejection simply did not happen for you. You were confident, rich, pretty, and full of spirited and flirtatious personality, and so you strode right up to the handsome stranger, flashing a smile of feigned innocence towards his female companions. “Excuse me, ladies. I’d like to talk to your little boy toy here.”

003. all grown up // stalker!ransom drysdale x reader. --> TBD

You had just arrived at the house, and your eyes couldn’t help but drift towards Ransom’s. Fond memories came rushing back; you were not the type to feel overly sentimental, but you found yourself feeling a pang of nostalgia. As you gazed over at his freshly cut lawn, you remembered all the times he and your brother would actually entertain you with a game of tag or hide-and-seek despite the fact that they were so much older. You remembered falling on the driveway and scraping your knee so badly, you still had a scar to this day-- but with Bryce washing it up and Ransom trying to make you laugh to distract you, the pain seemed to only last for a few seconds. Even the not so great memories still made you smile to yourself, such as Bryce and Ransom riding around the neighborhood on their brand new bikes while you were desperately wailing for them to wait for you as you lagged along on your tiny tricycle. As nice to you as they were, they were young boys who were far too excited about their fast rides, and so they weren’t exactly about to wait for the little four-year-old moving at a snail's pace. In a cranky fit, you had simply gotten off your bike to sit in the yard and cry while they raced down the street-- the memory made you laugh now, shaking your head fondly to yourself. 

You had asked Bryce if the Thrombeys still lived there. Linda and Richard did, but he explained to you that Ransom had moved out. He was still in Massachusetts, but he had his own place now about an hour away. You had to admit you were a bit disappointed, but at least he wasn’t too far. You really did hope to see him again now that you were back home. According to Bryce, he was pretty much the same Ransom; blunt and straightforward, snarky yet amusing, and of course, privileged and entitled. Growing up quite wealthy yourself, this actually didn’t bother you. You were used to this behavior from the family friends you were surrounded with, and you knew there was more depth to Ransom than what people had always seen him as. He acted snobby and superior even as a child, always the cocky know-it-all, but you knew if that was all there was to him, he would have never been so considerate with you when you were little.

JOIN MY PATREON FOR $5 A MONTH TO READ ALL OF THESE WORKS AND UNRELEASED DRABBLES!

[professordrarry]

Blaise x Ron. Bicycle. 😏

Oh, my love. I don’t know what you were expecting when you sent me these three words, but I promise you, it was not this ABSOLUTE LITERARY MASTERPIECE. Enjoy, and then google “Adult sized radio flyers”. You are welcome. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Ron said, rushing around a corner, faced flush and panting. “I think I lent Hermione the car this weekend to pick up the kids and I can’t take the tube since… The Incident.”

“You think you lent her the car?” Blaise replied, making sure his expertly arched eyebrow highlighted his dripping sarcasm perfectly.

He was trying his best not to feel relief every time Ron actually showed up again, ready to work with him and be an Auror who didn’t judge him based on his surname. He usually failed.

“I mean, I assume she has it,” Ron smirked. “Otherwise, it’s been stolen and someone should call the Aurors! Oh, wait…”

He laughed at his own terrible joke, then winked, strolling up to the edge of the barrier and looking around with a keen eye.

As usual, Blaise’s stomach fell to his knees. Winks were cruel. Ignoring the sensation, he turned back to the scene. It was nothing intense, but he’d put up the magical barriers anyway. The Ministry was funny about Murtlap. If you were foolish enough to ask anyone why, they’d go off on an angry tale about the 1920s, a Muggle, and Americans. Moreover, if you stood there long enough, you were more than likely to end up with the job of reporting on the Murtlap population in England that spring. One creature on the loose hardly required two teams of the upper officers, but it was honestly just safer to show up at the scene.

Blaise was actually annoyed at Ron this time. He’d already processed the scene, repaired the broken glass, and dealt with the mouldy old Muggle lady who was in charge of the shop that had been destroyed. It had taken him twenty minutes to clean it up with his wand and then Confund her. Plus, the damned creature was gone again.

He was silently fuming as Ron walked around, looking for unknown details and ignoring Blaise’s murmured pleas to not disturb anything else before the forensics team arrived.

“Get this spot already?” Ron asked, kicking it with his toe.

“Yes.”

“What about the hair by the—”

Blaise interjected. “Ron, I’ve already done my job. And your fucking job, too, for that matter.”

Ron smirked, still looking at the ground. “Relax, panty twist,” he teased. “I already apologised. And I have pastries in the basket of my bike. If I also promise to do the paperwork, can I be forgiven?”

Blaise refused the smile that wanted to reply to Ron’s smirk and turned away, adding rancour to his tone when he said, “It will be a start.”

He walked away to make his point; when Ron caught up to him with his long stride, though, he chose not to hold his breath. Ron always smelt of sugar, or possibly honey. Blaise knew it was because he’d been baking too much since the divorce, but since he always profited from this late night stress reliever in the form of fancy scones or biscuits, Blaise chose to believe the hobby was positive.

Plus, he got to work beside the sweetness instead of the many other odours crime scenes offered. Sometimes, though, he did wonder if he was mostly in love with the smell of pastries, and not the insufferable ginger. It didn’t really matter, because it didn’t make it less true that he was definitely—embarrassingly, painfully—in love.

Sighing inwardly, he asked why Ron hadn’t just Apparated here; in all honesty, Blaise knew the answer. Ron hated Apparating, and his house was just around the corner. It was irrational, but Blaise suspected the beautiful, faint spiral on his right shoulder had everything to do with it; pain had a very long memory, and Blaise had never been splinched. Ron just shrugged and gestured to where his bike must be.

Blaise burst out laughing at the vehicle Ron was walking up to, even as he pulled a tub from the basket in the front.

“What?” Ron asked, immediately defensive. Which was wise, since Blaise was quick to mock and slow to let things go.

“Hate to break it to you mate,” Blaise grinned, flicking the little red handle derisively, “but this is not a bicycle.”

“Haha,” Ron deadpanned. “I know it’s really old and not that flash but it gets me where I need to go.”

“No, I mean, it’s not at all a bicycle,” Blaise insisted. “It has three wheels, Ron. You’re best mate is bi. You know what the word means. That is absolutely, definitively, by definition, a Tricycle. And not even a dorky adult one, at that.” 

The longer he looked at it, the harder he laughed. The words Radio Flyer were spray painted in white on the side, and there were bright red streamers attached to the handles. The basket on the front was wire, and stuffed into it was Ron’s kit of supplies. 

“Weasley, where in fuck’s name did you get this thing?” Blaise said through continued peals of laughter.

Ron had gone bright red, but it was his Angry Red, not his Embarrassed Red—which was actually more of a shiraz colour and filled Blaise with glee whenever it appeared. He could, if he wanted to, spend time analysing how ridiculous it was that he had catalogued the blushes of his coworker. He didn’t, of course. That was a dangerous path.

“My dad charmed it for me. I needed a bike. It was in his shed. He assured me it was a regular, run-of-the-mill Muggle thing,” Ron replied through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, well it is,” Blaise giggled. “When you’re three.”

“I’m going to kill him. No wonder he had to make it so big.”

“Yes, well. You are six-foot some-odd,” Blaise agreed with a nod. He took a deep breath and let his voice go quieter. “It’s kind of cool, I guess? In a weird…not at all cool way?”

“Six-four,” Ron growled. “In other words, tall enough to kick your bloody teeth in, you idiot.”

Blaise laughed again and let go of the handles and dropped his glee at the same time. Ron was close to defensive, and that was significantly less fun than mad.

“Right then,” he said conclusively. “Give us a ride back to the office on your fancy wheels, Auror Weasely.”

“What?” Ron replied tersely, holding onto his mad face though the flush was already subsiding and Blaise knew that he was really just mad at his dad for making him the fool.

“What? You don’t know about the best part of a tricycle. Look.” Blaise stood on the back of the oversized trike, making use of the built-in steps. “It comes with a built-in passenger seat!”

Blaise teased, gesturing to the seat. “I promise to stop laughing at you if you can get me back to your flat alive so we can Floo from there.” 

Ron scrubbed the back of his neck and looked uncomfortable for a minute. Blaise was puzzled. Discomfort was not an expression he was used to seeing. Blatantly angry, yes. Or else incredulous or proud, arrogant or gleeful. But never discomfort.

“Er, where do you hold on?” Ron asked gruffly.

Blaise shrugged. “Usually the driver’s shoulders. Come on, we’ll be late and Draco will have our hides.” 

Ron, looking resigned, reached back into the basket and pulled out a black helmet that would have been more suited to something with a motor.

“Don’t you dare fucking start again,” he grimaced. “I will not risk my skull for something as stupid as a bicycle after surviving a war.”

“Wise,” Blaise choked.

He couldn’t laugh. Not even a little bit. As Ron jammed it on his head, Blaise bit his tongue. Every well-intentioned insult he’d been about to hurl disappeared at the sight of Ronald Weasely, in a tight black henley, the jeans of a man on a day off, and a black motorbike helmet. The image, of course, could have been ruined by that same man clamouring aboard a red, adult-sized Radio Flyer. Instead, he settled back until his strong back muscles brushed up against the back of Blaise’s thighs and he gripped the handles firmly.

“Hold on, Zabini,” he said gruffly.

Of course, peddling riding a motorbike. It wasn’t like the many times Blaise had gripped his thighs to a man hurling him around corners as an engine rumbled beneath him majestically. This? This was anything but majestic. But it was fucking adorable. Plus, he was absolutely touching Ron, which was on a long list of things he’d told himself he Could Not Do since the divorce and therefore felt very dangerous. Blaise, not being his mother, had found it pretty easy to hide his attraction when Ron had been Husband and Father. It had been getting harder and harder over the past year.

The ride was only five minutes. The wind kicked up as they hit an incline. People on the busy side street turned to look a second time when two, significantly-sized adult men rode a giant tricycle past them. Uphill and in the wind, Blaise found his arms wrapped tightly around Ron’s chest and shoulders, leaning on his back and firmly pressing in with his thighs. He was also thinking about the position way, way too much. But Ron never slowed or faltered in his peddling, like Blaise’s five-eleven frame was nothing more than pastries in a basket.

Ron pulled up to his building and stopped suddenly outside his garden, leaping off the seat and hurtling himself toward the front door. Alarmed, Blaise followed quickly and silently; it was usually worthwhile to follow the lead of his partner. Ron was incredibly perceptive, an extremely good judge of character, and pretty decent at seeing things from much further away than made sense.

Once up the steps, Ron whispered a word and the door popped open. He flung himself inside and Blaise quickly followed with his wand drawn and ready to cast.

“What is it? Direction,” Blaise barked, full Auror voice returning him from his dizzy, aroused fantasy world on the back of the trike.

“Nothing,” Ron replied in a voice Blaise had never heard before. “There’s nothing. I just—”

He cut himself off and reached out to take Blaise’s wand from him. He relinquished it easily as he noted that Ron’s face had also changed; there was grim determination behind it that looked nothing like his work self. He dropped Blaise’s wand carelessly and took the helmet off in one smooth motion.

“I just wanted to get up here and behind that door quickly,” Ron continued. “Before I lost my nerve.”

He backed Blaise up until he hit the wall of the entryway. A knee pinned him there, hands on either side of Blaise’s head. “I think we’ve been tiptoeing around this for a bit too long, and I’m not exactly a coward. Neither are you, Mr send-backup-but-also-I’m-already-through-the-door.”

“That was one time and you—”

But Blaise didn’t get to finish, because he was busy kissing Ron. The shift had been subtle, slow. There was no reason to be attracted to this fool, all full of Gryffindor fluff and utterly pointless courage. Blaise found him suffocating and claustrophobic, cloying and contradictory. He had been fighting with himself to move on, remove his attraction. There was no reason for the heat in his stomach when Ron spoke to a victim. Nothing menacing about the extra nearly-half-foot Ron had on him. He was a giant kitten, full of blushes and glowers that went nowhere.

But god damn if he wasn’t also an absolutely brilliant kisser.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake,” Ron muttered, pulling back. “You followed me to a secondary location, into my home. I took you on my unmarked vehicle by offering you a ride. That’s victimology 101.”

“Oh dear,” Blaise growled, pulling Ron back by the hair at the base of his neck, placing his lips on the rather sharp jawline and smirking. “I’ll certainly be regretting my naïveté later when you have me…tied up.”

The growl was audible, even though the rush of blood in his ears.

[shiningtorrance-moved]

Alright let’s go through my thoughts on Doctor Sleep and what I will and won’t be including in my portrayal of Dan Part 1. (there will be spoilers for The Shining and Doctor Sleep so if you want to avoid spoilers just don’t read this)

Thoughts on the movie

-First and foremost, I’m going to save my thoughts on Dan and Dan-related things for part 2, where I’ll talk about how this affects my writing of him. Don’t think I’m ignoring him.

-DO NOT LET THIS BECOME SUCH A BOX OFFICE FLOP PLEASE GUYS IT’S BARELY BEEN OUT TWO WEEKS WE CAN’T LET THIS FLOP IT DESERVES BETTER

-When I saw Rose in the trailers and thought she’d be hot and powerful I WAS NOT PREPARED for her in the movie. Rebecca Ferguson is fabulous and give so much energy and charisma in her scenes and is drop-dead gorgeous while doing it

-Kyliegh Curran is a great Abra and can hold her own against the adult actors despite being so young, and her scenes with Rose are great because both actresses are bringing it and working off of each other and having a whole lot of fun doing it

-when I saw it with a friend there were nine of us total in the theater. That’s mostly because we saw it on a Tuesday afternoon, and it was actually nice because we reacted to things a lot more openly. That being said, DO NOT LET THIS FLOP GUYS GO SEE IT PLEASE

-Emily Alyn Lind is great, and if you’re worried about the sex scene between Rose and Andi happening, it isn’t. Andi’s fifteen in this, and the closest they get to anything in that vein is Andi telling Rose she’s the most beautiful woman she’s seen, and when Rose gives her steam their faces are close to each other. To be fair, whenever someone takes steam they act the same way, so it’s not some weird thing that only happens with Andi. But she was great bc she was so creepy and composed and ready to throw hands with anyone and everyone.

-Zahn McClarnon as Crow Daddy. Hot. Damn. I wasn’t expecting him to be as awesome as he was. He was calm, collected, intimidating, and his scenes with Rose were great because you can just tell how much they care about each other. It should be noted that he’s actually Native American (more specifically, Hunkpapa Latoka on his mother’s side; his dad’s Irish) and acts in Westworld (he plays Akecheta). Another thing that should be noted is that two years ago he had a brain injury that took him out of acting for a while, but he’s recovered! All in all, he’s a pretty cool guy who is a great Crow

-I do wish they actually showed Rose and Crow’s relationship because really all they did was she kisses his neck once and they spend time together a lot and he calls her “Rosie”. They do keep her screaming “You killed my crow”, but I do wish we saw them doing a little bit more couple stuff. Mainly because I thought they were cute in the book.

-WHERE WERE THE MURDER LESBIANS I WANTED THE MURDER LESBIANS WE DID NOT GET MURDER LESBIANS ALL WE GOT WAS MURDER LADIES I WANTED MURDER LESBIANS

-Unfortunately, Rose being bi wasn’t in the movie, but her vibes were definitely not straight ones

-The score was very close to the Shining score, but I’m not mad about it because I love the Shining score, and they used the music effectively

-There is body horror in the film. The murder of Bradley Trevor is shown, and there’s blood and him screaming and crying. It’s mostly her stabbing his leg then cutting to him screaming, and then the end where he asks her to kill him and she does, and he’s covered in blood and bleeding from the mouth. In the scene where Rose enters Abra’s head, Rose’s hand gets stuck in a file cabinet and she pulls it out slowly and you see the skin coming off of her hand. It’s about thirty seconds, but you see it and it’s gross. After that scene is over, her hand is still cut up and is very messed up for a lot of the rest of the film. The last  scene with any kind of body horror is during the climax, where Dan attempts to kill her with an axe and she digs the small end in his leg before digging her hingers into it. Some blood spurts out, but it only happens two or three times in quick succession, so it’s small. 

-David is stabbed in the chest offscreen, and all you see is his body with a knife sticking out of him, but there’s a lot of blood surrounding him. If you don’t like seeing dead bodies you won’t like that.

-When people get shot blood does shoot out of them, but it’s minimal and rarely forms a large splatter or anything.

-Billy commits suicide by shooting himself under the jaw. All that’s shown is him putting it under his chin, then it cuts to Dan trying to get to him before hearing the bang and seeing some blood. But there’s very little left to the imagination and it’s pretty disturbing.

-The way they showed cycling out was well done

-There’s a lot of practical effects and not that much CGI. In general the CGI was good. I mean, sometimes it looks a bit goofy (but try showing me a movie where a special effect doesn’t look goofy) but it’s really in scenes that are surreal and supernatural so it works a bit more.

-Really the only actor that they recast from The Shining that was truly off-putting was Jack, but that was mostly because Jack Nicholson has such a unique face and it’s hard to make someone look like him, let alone make someone look like him without having a weird uncanny valley thing.

-The characters that are recast don’t have a lot of screen time in the movie, and the one character that shows up a lot is Dick. Who is, fun fact, played by Carl Lumbly, who played John Parker in Buckaroo Bonzai. If you don’t think you’ll like the recast actors, they have the most screen time in the beginning and at the climax, but it’s heaviest in the beginning because it’s with child Danny.

-The kid they got to play little Danny is so adorable I love him

-Fun fact! Danny Lloyd aka the actor for Danny in the Shining movie, had a cameo! In the baseball game he’s the person who says “Watch out for number nineteen”

-The only thing that I didn’t like was that Billy and David died. I understand why they did it and like what they were going for, but I still didn’t like it.

-Billy is a true ride-or-die and he’s a great character and I’m hopping on the “Billy and Dan are dating” train because I CAN AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME

-David being a good dad and having a good relationship with his daughter and him not trusting Dan being totally okay and never used against him gives me life

-I was disappointed that when ghost Deenie came it wasn’t to warn Dan but to let him know they recently died, but hot damn that scene was freaky.

-Tbh Dan’s guilt about Deenie and Tommy was underused and could’ve been a bit more.

-DICK SAYS KA IS A WHEEL I REPEAT DICK SAYS KA IS A WHEEL

-I can’t stress enough how many times I bit my tongue to stop any Bi Panic(TM) noises from escaping because every scene Rose and Crow are in I was DEHYDRATED

-When we saw the first Overlook flashback, everyone in the theater was making various kinds of approving noises, e.g. a couple of people went “ooh” when we see Danny riding on the carpet, and my friend and I gasped when Danny’s tricycle went from carpet to wood floor because it was the exact same sound it made in the Shining

-THE FUCKING OVERLOOK SETS WERE FABULOUS

-THE ATTENTION TO DETAIL IS STUNNING

-IT LOOKED LIKE THE SHINING OVERLOOK SETS IF THEY HAD BEEN LEFT IN A DAMP CELLAR

-THE OVERLOOK SETS ARE JUST AWESOME

-When Dan and Abra were driving to the Overlook and the camera panned over to the hotel, everyone in the audience literally sat straight up and stayed that way for the rest of the climax. Except my friend and I, but that was because we both leaned forward, but we still stayed that way the entire time.

-Once again, THE SETS WERE GREAT

-I liked how the final. showdown with Rose went. I liked it a lot better than the book, actually (fight me). It was emotional and great and I feel it gave the characters a good conclusion to their arcs.

-There are like five of the True versus the forty in the book, and it’s a lot nicer.

-Abra says “Barry the Chunk” but he’s just called Barry and the implication is that he’s a large broad-shouldered man instead of what it was in the book

-Azzie is a good cat and deserves the world, although I thought I heard them say “She” which is a weird change. Provided that it’s real and wasn’t me mishearing them.

-Ewan McGregor sings at one point.

-Danny is a precious baby angel child and I love him

-John Dalton is more of a bit part than in the book, which works a lot better for this film.

-I wish we got more of the weird things Abra did as a child instead of just the spoons

-When Rose sees the elevator of blood she’s weirded out but then gets this look on her face like “I can dig it” and it’s honestly pretty funny

-I know that there’s no way this would’ve happened in the film because it’s honestly unnecessary and would’ve ruined the tension of the climax and couldn’t have happened due to character locations, but I really wanted Rose to walk around the hallways and see the bear guy and just go “wtf”. It would’ve been hilarious. I know that can’t happen, but it’s just a funny image.

-They didn’t have the tampon line and I’m a bit disappointed but also that’s fair

-They didn’t have the plot twist where Dan actually is Abra’s uncle, which was a good decision from a movie standpoint.

All in all, it was a good movie that I’m looking forward to seeing again, and I’ll go more in-depth about Dan and what I thought about him in part 2.

GO SEE THE MOVIE