#masking in the shared studio is normal for me

[claypigeonpottery]

gonna talk about sgraffito and the creation of silica dust under the cut. if you're not interested in that, here, have two unrelated clips of me carving!

I got a question awhile ago about whether people should wear masks when using the sgraffito technique and I said no. but later I was carving a particularly dry piece and I realized I should have said sometimes.

the first part of this video is at regular speed (sorry about the focusing issue, sigh) and you can see as I carve that the tool is pulling away long ribbons of clay. it's still damp enough that the clay is holding together.

in the second part of the video, the time-lapse, you can see how dry the piece is because as I carve, I don't get nice ribbons of clay, I just get dust. silica dust which is not safe for people to inhale.

this is part of why I prefer to carve on the softer side of leather hard. carving dry is more dangerous, and you should wear a mask and have an air purifier going if you're doing it. sometimes there's just no avoiding it--it can be hard to time these things, especially if you're not doing pottery in a home studio.

(carving dry also causes underglaze flaking and it'll make your carving lines kind of wiggly so there's another reason to carve things earlier)

if you are carving at bone dry, don't sweep up or blow away the dust if you can help it, you don't want it airborne. just tip it onto the table and mop it up with a wet sponge

don't hurt your lungs for sgraffito, wear a mask!

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in Decembers] Sakusa Kiyoomi

I'm 4 days into December but thought, I should dedicate this month to the daddies being dads lol. This was not supposed to be this long, I can't guarantee that the other characters will have something this lengthy. Enjoy~

Warning: fluffy and dreamy Omi, Omi who knows how to waltz, Omi who is a beast in bed (we all know that though) smut . You met Kiyoomi a few months ago after you found out he was going to be your partner for your friend’s Bridgerton theme wedding. Your first impression of this man was that he was cold and unapproachable. He was always standing at a distance from everyone else and kept to himself.

“It’s normal, that’s Kiyoomi.” Hinako text you. She admitted that out of all the other bridesmaids, you were the best fit for Kiyoomi because of his attitude.

Engaging with people was usually a breeze for you, even when it came to strangers. However, Sakusa Kiyoomi was on another level. Despite your best efforts to connect with him for the sake of the wedding, he remained unyielding. His piercing glares suggested annoyance, and he rarely cracked a smile or engaged in conversation. Moreover, his face was often half-covered underneath a mask 99% of the time. Whenever you tried to start a conversation with him, he would only respond with a simple answer.

You immediately adjusted to his behavior and only engaged in a conversation when needed.

The exact moment you started feeling drawn to Kiyoomi was unclear. Hinako and Youta’s wedding required great preparation. The ten bridesmaid and their groomsmen were expected to learn how to waltz and participate in three of the dances that were part of the reception program.

Your initial waltz class with Kiyoomi was anxiety-inducing. Aware of his strong aversion to germs, you were uncertain about how he would react to holding your hand. Prior to the class, you took extra precautions by washing your hands three times.

It was the first occasion you had witnessed Kiyoomi in casual attire, excluding his sport outfits. Following the instructor’s guidance, he took your hand and encircled his other arm around your waist.

“Let me know if my hand positioning makes you feel uncomfortable,” he mumbled. You assured him he was fine.

Kiyoomi surprisingly showed great skills in waltzing. He picked up the steps and movements immediately and was praised by the instructor for how gracefully his body moved.

“Relax and just follow me,” Kiyoomi commanded softly after you struggled to follow the tune and his steps, stepping on his toes as a result. You looked up and your eyes nearly bulged when he said that he had his mask pulled down below his chin, giving you a full view of his face. “I’ll go at your pace.”

Just like that, two were the first pair to nail the first dance.

Your relationship began to flourish since that day.

You both dedicated extra time outside of dance class for practice, and in the private moments shared between just the two of you, a different side of him emerged – a soft side.

He was gradually growing at ease in your presence, evident in the way he would swiftly discard his mask as soon as he was around you.

“Closer,” Kiyoomi whispered, pulling you right against his body. “Remember, the instructor said we must be more intimate?”

“Waltzing should be intimate, I know you guys aren’t romantic partners but you all should try to put more emotions into it,” said the instructor at their last class.

Nodding your head, you relaxed and tried not to blush even more at how close you two were. You shift your gaze to his coffee table that’s pushed against the wall, anything to distract you from staring at his gorgeous face. The dance studio was closed for cleaning and neither of you knew until you arrived only to be disappointed at the sign on the door.

You were on the verge of suggesting that you guys could reconnect again in a few days, given your upcoming busy schedule with work over the next two days.

“You comfortable… coming to my place? It is nearby.”

You had to refrain from smiling, seeing how he couldn’t look at you in the eyes and his ears were bloodshot red.

“Sure,” you gesture, “lead the way.”

Each dance and song used to be a drag to you, but recently, you’ve discovered that you’re getting lost in the music and the steps, completely immersed in the dance. Before you realize it, you and Kiyoomi find yourself at the end of the waltz breathing heavily, locked in a gaze, deeply connected through the rhythm.

The moment it began was a blur, but gradually, you both discovered comfort and support in each other’s presence, sharing smiles and laughter as you immersed yourself in the dance.

“We did it,” you grinned, realizing that both of you had mastered the dance steps, reaching a point where mistakes were almost nonexistent. From the very beginning to the end, you and Kiyoomi seamlessly executed the waltz.

You aren’t sure if it was a mistake to look into Kiyoomi’s eyes but you did and found yourself lost in his. Your fingers itched to thread through his curls, brush your thumb against the two beauty marks on his forehead.

“Y/n,” he exhaled deeply. You realize it wasn’t due to the dance, as you had already caught your breath.

“… yes?”

His eyes shift lower, you feel them shift to your lips. “Can I – may I… kiss you?” Before you could answer, he quickly withdrew from you, turning away. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “that was stupid of me to ask.”

You closed the distance and tugged his sleeve to turn him around. He looked down at you with a frown and a frustrated expression. You ignored it all but what you couldn’t ignore was realizing how tall he was compared to you at that exact moment.

Looking around, his coffee table was right beside you. Without much thought, you stepped on the table, gripped the collar of his t-shirt, and pulled him towards you before pressing your lips against his.

It was a simple innocent kiss.

Until you were about to pull away but a hand wrapped behind your head, and Kiyoomi’s lips moved over yours in a hungry and deprived kiss.

“Mhmm,” you moaned, hands cupping his face. You move your mouth with his, eagerly meeting his kiss.

You both pulled away, breathless, more breathless than when you two waltzed together.

You pressed your forehead against him, realizing with you standing on his coffee table, you were slightly taller than him.

“S – sorry,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“Kissing you.”

“I kissed you,” you corrected, frowning.

“And then I kissed you.”

“But I’m not sorry?” You retort.

.

Everything shifted from the moment the kiss occurred. In the presence of others, Kiyoomi remained close, yet he retained his stoic expression, and nobody else seemed to discern the shift between the two of you. You found peace in subtle moments, such as when his hand gently brushed against yours or his pinky subtly intertwined with yours – a private exchange that went unnoticed by everyone else.

The wedding came around and before you knew it, it was the real dance.

You faced Kiyoomi, and despite having walked down the aisle alongside him earlier, you found it challenging to fully comprehend how handsome he appeared with his curls styled to the side, dressed in a sharp black suit.

Throughout the wedding, neither of you had the chance to share a moment together, let alone exchange a simple, routine kiss. Every time you two finally found a moment to gaze at each other for longer than three seconds, one of you would inevitably be pulled away for something else.

“You look stunning,” he whispered the moment you two closed the distance and were pressed against one another.

“You look dashing,” you smiled, following his steps.

You twirled around, your back pressed against his chest as you mirrored his steps. Your heart quickened as his hand firmly pressed against your belly instead of his usual place on your waist.

Kiyoomi nudges your head, making you tilt your head, your eyes closing in response as you feel the music and the dance. You felt his nose graze against your ear. In a quiet, low voice, he murmured, “I was starting to lose my patience because I couldn’t catch a second with you.” With that, he spun you back around, guiding the dance with grace. “I just want to be with you.”

For a few seconds, the others around you blurred and you could no longer hear the music. You stared deeply into Kiyoomi’s eyes repeating the words he just said.

In recent nights, you’ve found yourself foolishly attempting to unravel the sexual tension lingering between the two of you. Did he desire it as well, or were you the only one harboring such delusions? These thoughts began to weigh on you, leading to a sense of melancholy as you pondered what would become of your connection once the wedding concluded. You wouldn’t have an excuse to see him anymore.

Shooting your shot, you asked, “do you want to come back to my room tonight?”

Did he understand the hidden meaning behind your question?

What if he shot you down?

He blinked at you as if trying to comprehend what you just asked him.

Your ears began ringing and you felt embarrassed.

“Can we go now?” he asked shyly.

.

“Ahh,” you moaned, back arching as Kiyoomi pounded you from behind. You lost track of time, let alone how many orgasms he has squeezed out of you. “Ki – yomi… Kiyoomi – wait… slow down… ple – please…”

You two made it back to your room and all your clothes were discarded, mixing amongst each other and becoming a trail that led to the bed.

The headboard thumps loudly against the wall. It was the reality for you as to how deep and how hard he was pounding into you.

Your arms and knees gave in as your body collapsed onto the bed. That did not stop Kiyoomi and his movement, if anything, he continued and penetrated you deeper.

You were going to die. You are convinced of that.

“Omi… Omi,” you moaned into the pillow, you tried to lift yourself but it was useless. Each time he thrusted, he penetrated so deep into your body sending you over the edge. You were going to cum again.

The bed shook in waves with his thrusts as he neared his own orgasm. Your body bounced and each time you felt his cock deeper into your pussy.

Kiyoomi’s last thrust stilled and you feel him tremble as he came inside the condom.

His groans were cute, you thought to yourself amid the moment.

“What is funny?”

Did you laugh out loud?

You glance over your shoulder, seeing him tower over your back. His weight was supported by his knees and elbow but he remained deep inside of you.

“You’re a beast, Kiyoomi.”

He burst out laughing before rolling you both over. You ended up falling asleep in his arms, warmed and protected through the night.

.

You had worried for nothing as he asked you to be his girlfriend the next morning. He expressed his worry, the same worry as you, about not seeing each other once the wedding was over.

That was when he realized how he felt about you.

“I like you,” he tells you in his husky morning voice that you instantly fell in love with. “You made me feel things I never felt for anyone.”

“Is that why you set out to make sure I wouldn’t be able to walk this morning?”

He chuckles and you tighten your arm around him.

“I like you too,” you tell him after a few minutes of silence.

Kiyoomi tightened his arms around you and rolled you onto your back. “Say it again.”

“I like you,” you repeated.

It was hard for you to believe that this grinning from-ear-to-ear Kiyoomi was the same one you met a few months ago.

You lean up to kiss him, you love these new discoveries about Kiyoomi, his morning voice, his chuckles, and his smiles.

.

They say it takes about a year for you to learn the true nature of someone but some, you find their true nature a lot sooner.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was not who you thought he was.

The icy and solemn man you initially encountered was far from the one currently resting on your lap, arms embracing your waist, his face nestled into your stomach.

“Don’t stop.”

You hummed while gazing down at the large puppy, thinking he had drifted off to sleep.

Instead of repeating himself, Kiyoomi grabbed your hand and placed it back on his head, wanting you to continue to keep petting him and run your fingers through his curls.

You giggle and continue to keep massaging his scalp, knowing he needs it after a long day of practice and dealing with his teammates.

Your husband of a month and soon-to-be daddy had become even clingier after the life-changing events of your wedding and your pregnancy.

He needed to be beside you at all times, even in the mornings when he was tired and you got up to prepare his lunch. He would grumble and cling on to you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you. Sometimes in the same position, he would chop up the vegetables while you made his sandwich, all while clinging on to you.

Despite finding it bothersome, you recognized that his love language centered around physical touch, only with you, of course. You endured his behavior because of your affection for him.

. . .

E/n: I try to write about other characters too and not just my usual Omi and Rin.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[tmzrkstan]

nct dream and risky places they would make out with idol!reader

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

warnings: kissing, cursing, "risky" situations.

genre: stable relationship, a little smutty, gn!reader.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

♡Mark:

•Studio it's way more comfortable in Mark's opinion, no more than his room, but for the moment was the best place;

•Whether you are from the same company or just visiting to record content with other idols makes no difference;

•You know recording studios very well, you'd be dragged into one and you'd make out for a few minutes;

•Never overdoing the timing, otherwise it would take it to another level, and he wouldn't want to risk that much.

•"I'd rather run away to be with you and get scolded than get caught"

♡Renjun:

•This man is not a big fan of feeling the danger of being caught, and fear of exposing you;

•BUT, when he can't hold back the urge to hold you in his arms there's nothing stopping him;

•Not even an audience of thousands of fans at his concerts will stop him from taking you out of the seats where you hide behind mask and cap;

•Makeout sessions before his entrance as an incentive, which drives his makeup artist crazy when he saw the mess you made;

•Smiling and being seductive the whole show remembering this, fans found themselves like this 🤨 the whole time;

•"When I'm on stage, remember this man is all yours."

♡Jeno:

•Big music awards demand a lot of production of course, an outfit that no one would normally wear, you knew about it for a long time;

•However, oh boy when your group's concept threw itself into the sexy, did he lose his mind at the sight of you;

•Luckily or not, their tables were always close enough for him to see your reactions to the spice messages he sent;

•It took a lot of persistence for him to manage to get you into an out-of-the-way bathroom stall during commercials;

•It wasn't a lot of time, but enough to calm the big boy in the suit's hormones;

•"It's not me you should complain to, it's your stylist."

♡Haechan:

•Poor stairs of the Music Bank recording building had to receive your groups on the same days one week or another;

•You bet twitter would be full of clips of you guys flirting while sharing the screen during interviews;

•Running away as soon as the camera stopped recording, feeling the animation run wild;

•The possibility of getting caught plus the attraction they felt for each other always made everything crazy;

•"Just the thought of being seen kissing a hottie like you makes it all worth it."

♡Jaemin:

•Festivals, especially those with water performances;

•There was no hair or makeup to mess up plus there was too much information going on to pay attention to the couple hiding in a bathroom or an enclosed corner;

•Plus, he's confident it's just a matter of throwing a towel over the two of them to hide in emergencies;

•No wonder it's the way he goes crazy with your dripping hair and smudged eyeliner, understand his side!

•At the end of the day, he just wanted to have fun since they couldn't have all that in public with normal couples;

•"You can't deny it gets a lot more refreshing."

♡Chenle:

•Ok, but he REALLY prefers privacy, just for the record;

•However, a man's heart is not frozen, how could he deny caresses to his attention-needing partner?

•Demands a lot of demand, but ends up choosing a conference room at the end of a corridor on the top floor;

•Deep down he likes to have meetings about his future activities in the same place where you two made out for hours (oh he makes the executive type of man);

•It's little secrets he keeps to himself with a small sly smile;

•"Likes to see me in the boss chair, huh?"

♡Jisung:

•He is not as expositional as Jaemin and Haechan, but he has his moments of adventure on stage;

•Literally on stage, as early arrivals for sound checks were excuses to meet with each other;

•It was inevitable that they would exchange a few kisses here and there on the stage where in a few hours one of the two would perform;

•On his turn, he was always lost between kissing you or showing the part of the choreography that he had some concern about;

•"I think I'm a lot more confident now."

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Slumber Party Kissin'

Modern! Nancy x Fem! Reader Smut

Midwest Princess Series

AN: Heyo! So each one of these will be a one-shot based off of a Chappell Roan song and added to a Masterlist later! Please forgive me as this is my first ever time writing with Nancy!

CW: MDNI!!! mature, internalized questioning, unrequited? crush, first queer experiences, mentions of past relationships (Steve and Jonathan), use of nickname Angel, fem! reader (v) x Nancy, 69ing, oral (v), fingering, making out, boob play, etc

Even miles away in Manhattan, Nancy Wheeler had a hold on you. 

You two grew up together, photos of the two of you, arms around each other, missing teeth. You whispered secrets to one another, sharing dolls. Nancy was your world. Until you complicated it. 

You two shared everything. Right down to first kisses. You thought it was normal to giggle with a friend and kiss, ignoring the weird feeling of her braces behind soft lips. To play with and style her vanilla and coconut hair, the curls soft in your fingers. You whispered to one another how much you disliked boys, Nancy crying over how they stuck gum in her hair. 

Hell, you even played Boyfriend and Girlfriend. 

You only began to notice Nancy’s apprehension when you both befriended Barb. 

Barb wasn’t grossed out by your bond anything, just seemed to joke about how people may perceive you as more. 

Nancy stopped holding your hand. She stopped giving you soft kisses on the cheek. 

You two stayed friends but drifted apart slowly, busy with your own lives. 

Flash forward a few years and Nancy was in college and freshly broken up with her boyfriend and you were in the big city, free spirited. You were learning things, like how you loved the hustle and bustle but missed Hawkins small town charm. She had called your cell phone, voice warm and sweet as ever. Your heart clenched. 

“Hey…I know we haven’t hung out in a while, but I’m in New York for an interview with the New York Post…” 

“Nance, that’s awesome!,” You exclaimed, heart and mind begging her to come see you, your stomach twisting.

“Um, yeah…So I-”

“Did you need a place to crash, because- Sorry! My connection is so shitty, I-,” You started, heart racing.

“No, yeah! I would appreciate that! Yeah…you’re the best,” Nancy stated, a smile clear in her voice. 

“Of course! Like old times, huh? We can make it like a sleepover!,” You grinned, heart threatening to escape its cage. 

“Oh yeah! I’d love that! Thanks, angel,” Nancy said softly, before saying her goodbyes as your heart threatened to stop. You hadn’t heard that nickname in a while. 

If you knew one thing, it was this: You had…feelings…for Nancy. 

You loved her coconut and vanilla shampoo, the way she rolled her eyes when you said something ridiculous, her studious nature, and her blinding smile. She was smart, strong, and maybe a little too stubborn. 

You’d suspected it, of course. For years. But you’d never been with a girl. Only a handful of boys had piqued your interest, and most of them… were less than stellar. 

Nancy was a constant in your mind, more reassured than cicadas in the summertime. 

You immediately sat up in your tiny studio apartment (all you could afford), and rushed out the door. 

This had to be the best reunion ever. 

When you finished, your apartment was decked out in pink string lights, snacks littering your  kitchen counter, along with DVDs stacked up on your coffee table, and all the activities you knew Nancy would love. Face masks, friendship bracelet making, and your switch to play MarioKart (She always beat you). 

You stared at the whole set up, proud of the progress, when a knock startled you. You answered the door, eyes wide at Nancy on the other side. She was still petite as ever, but her heels made her a little taller. Her familiar curls were shorter now, her makeup simple but…flawless. She smiled softly at you, blue eyes making your heart stop. 

“Hey, Angel,” She said, reaching out for a hug. 

You met her hug, melting into her arms and your face buried in her hair. There was that familiar scent, making your heart skip a beat. You pulled away after a bit, trying to will yourself to calm your heart, your face warm. 

“Hey, Nance. Come on in, get comfy,” You ushered her in as she looked around, smiling. 

“Wow, this is so cute! You didn’t have to go through all this for me,” She said, eyebrows pinched in a way that made you want to hold her hand. You refrained. 

“Nonsense! It was fun, honestly,” You shrugged, smiling. You tried to will your eyes away from her lips, her lip gloss capturing the peachy color perfectly. 

Shit. 

You smiled and clapped your hands, turning around, desperately trying to ignore the stampede of elephants currently running laps in your stomach. 

“Well…what movie do you wanna start off with? Mean Girls?” 

 Nancy and you were huddled under a blanket, currently suffering a sugar high and giggling over Regina getting hit by a bus. A bowl of popcorn rested between the two of you as you chatted, you seemingly playing off the desire to kiss the brunette next to you. 

Nancy dug into the bowl, smiling. 

“Ya know…Regina George is one of my women crushes,” She joked, eyes twinkling with humor. 

You gasped, laughing, “Me too! Me too!,” You couldn’t stop the giggles coming out of your mouth. 

“But honestly I’m kind of surprised…All American Sweetheart Nancy Wheeler, Investigative Journalist, Future Nobel Prize Winner…crush on Regina? I thought you’d say like, Cady or Janice…Maybe Karen. I can see you liking a bimbo,” You teased, dodging the popcorn Nancy threw at you in horror, pretty lips in an O. 

“Hey! Look, I don’t support the way Regina acts…She’s just really gorgeous. And fashionable. Now for Karen…I prefer Amanda Seyfried in Mamma Mia. She’s super hot there…and sweet,” Nancy smiles, cheeks pink. 

Your heart skips a beat, laughing softly. Nancy wasn’t a prude or anything, just a studious and goal driven person, her wit sometimes scaring you. Hearing her gush over girls when you experienced her own apprehension towards you two toeing the line both confused and made you perk up. 

Would she maybe give you a chance?

But you were too scared to push it. 

You and Nancy eventually wore yourselves out, passing out on the couch. 

You woke up after her, the scent of cinnamon and coffee permeating your kitchen. Nancy, always being an early bird, had woken up early and made breakfast. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily, stretching and yawning, trying to shake off the cobwebs. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Nancy piped up, hands holding a mug as she smiled into the mug, eyes sparkling with that same sharpness you adored from her. She was dressed up and makeup simple yet elegant, as per usual. You’d almost forgotten she’d had an interview this morning.

You perked up a bit at her voice, her voice making the stampede of elephants take another lap in your stomach. You seriously needed to get this crush under control. 

“Morning,” You piped up, standing up from your couch, stretching. 

“So I thought maybe we could explore the city? I’d like to know the place if I get to stay here,” She says sheepishly, her cheeks pink. You felt your heart pick up speed as your cheeks burst into flames. 

Nancy. In the city. Around you. 

“Sure! Did the interview this morning go well?,” You questioned in the most casual tone you could muster, coming over and grabbing the mug of coffee she so fondly made for you, her remembrance of how you liked it making your chest feel tight.

“Yeah! I think I really impressed them with my past papers and the one I wrote for the Hawkins Post about the Mayor’s embezzling,” She grinned, her expression glowing. 

“That’s awesome, Nance,” You smiled, walking around the counter to pull her into a side hug, your hands brushing her waist. You pulled away quickly, covering it with a cough. 

“Um, we should celebrate,” You offer, trying to ignore the imagery in your head of Nancy by you, your hands around her waist, your lips on her… 

Get a hold of yourself, dumbass. 

You ignore the growing need in your belly. 

“Yeah! Let’s!,” Nancy smiles, lighting up the entire kitchen. 

You smile and let her know you’re going to take a quick shower and change, heading for your drawers and grabbing clothes before heading off to the bathroom, trying to not think of how she had smelled like your soap, clearly using your shower this morning before heading out. 

Her lean and petite frame naked and…

You were gonna need cold water. 

You and Nancy spent the whole day walking around and exploring, huddled together in jackets, the crisp New York air cutting through the fabric. You showed her Times Square, the Mysterious Bookshop (which of course she poured over, being the mystery lover that she was), Central Park and the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater (you’d bought tickets in advance like a lovesick loser), and more. You’d ended the night by taking Nancy to a bar, buying her drinks in celebration. 

Which is how you had ended up stumbling into your apartment, giggling, the two of you leaned against one another. 

You were drunk, falling over yourselves as you sat on the couch and Nancy giggled, cheeks red and hair a mess. 

“I can’t beli-lieve I punched that guy,” She slurred, grinning. 

You grinned back just as dopey, giggling. “Yo-you were like my knight in shining armorrr,” You drawled out, hiccuping. You leaned against Nancy as she swayed on the couch a bit before standing up, leaving you to flop over. 

“Where goooo?,” You sing-songed, the buzz in your veins making you flop around like a fish. 

“W-ater…need..to give you,” Nancy mumbled, giggling as she overfilled a glass and it spilled into the sink. “Oops.” 

She stumbled over to you, giving you the water, your mind still fuzzy as she stood and tilted your head up and poured the water in your mouth, the desire growing between your legs. You swallowed, cheeks burning. 

“Y-you look out for me too much,” You slurred, voice soft. 

Nancy flopped next to you, shrugging it off, drinking some of the water. You watched her throat bob up and down as she drank, the wetness beneath your legs pooling as you noticed her jawline and neck, wanting to mark the pale skin with purple and red bruises. 

She set the cup down, turning to face you and eyes so intense you sobered up a little. 

“Rem-ember when we useded to play boyfriend and girlfriend?,” She asked, voice still slurring slightly but softer. 

You nodded, your throat feeling dry. Hell yeah you remembered it. Lips brushing Nancy’s neck, her own lips. Coming much closer to kissing than friends should. Sure, you were young, but you knew the implications. Later on in your early teen years, you two practiced kissing on one another, claiming you didn’t want to be bad at it. It was a giggly and silly sort of kiss, but led to more ‘practice’, you claiming to be nervous. You sort of lied, but Nancy never knew.

“I miss that,” She whispered, eyes staring at the couch as she played with the stray thread that seemed to escape the cushions. You gulped, heart threatening to stop. Your hands shook. You were sobering up quickly, still fuzzy but desire building. 

“Y-yeah…Si-simpler times,” You managed to get out, your words stuck in your throat like honey. You turned to sit criss-cross, facing Nancy, your eyes taking in her long lashes and how she bit her lip. Fuck. You wanted to bite it for her. 

She leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper as she looked down at your lap, hands fidgeting. “I n-never told you…but I think you were a better kisser than Steve or Jonathan.”

You laughed a bit, heat extending from your cheeks to your neck. “No way…I would always smile and giggle.”

Nancy giggled a bit, smiling and scooting closer, eyes still wandering before looking at you, clearly sheepish and still buzzed. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve improved. You’ve grown a lot.” 

You felt your heart stop and your mouth run dry. You swallowed and smiled, trying to tame your flaming skin. “Y-yeah…Definitely more experienced..But nothing’s been crazy,” You joked, waving a hand off, trying to be careful to not cross the line. 

Nancy nodded, letting a beat of silence cross before she piped up again. “H-have you ever…done anything…with…a girl?,” She questioned, brow furrowed, cheeks red. She seemed to fidget a bit, making your eyes glance at her chest, which was raising and falling rapidly, splotchy pink. You looked up. 

“N-no. Bu-but I mean there’s a first time for everything, right?,” You joked, your stomach twisting and turning at Nancy’s sudden interest in your sex life. 

“What about you?,” You asked softly. Nancy shook her head, chewing on her lips again before thoughtfully looking at you, face crossed with an expression you couldn’t read, brows furrowed and eyes guarded. “Wo-would you w-want to?” She bit her lip again, hand touching your calf. 

You swallowed, eyes on her touching you. You whispered, your heart racing and the heavy beat loud in your ears. “I mean…maybe..” 

She leaned forward a bit and seemed to sigh softly, her voice slightly shaking. “C-can we try…pretending…again? Ju-just…for old time’s sake.” 

You felt your brain short circuit as your heart seemed to disappear into the floor, your eyes wide. 

“Ye-yeah…I mean we’re tipsy and-” 

Nancy cut you off with a bruising kiss, her plush lips capturing yours as you felt your breath get taken away, eyes fluttering closed as she grabbed your jaw with one hand. You kept kissing, breaking apart for air before she crashed back into you, your back hitting the couch as she loomed over you, elbows against the couch, a giggle escaping your lips as Nancy smiled against your mouth. 

“Shh, I’m trying to impress you with my kissing skills,” She mumbled against your lips, a smile still on her face. 

You were about to retort before she began kissing you more passionately. She licked your bottom lip, making you gasp and allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth, you softly moaning beneath her. 

Your hands drifted up to around her waist, never getting enough of her soft skin. You pulled her in closer, the two of you pressed together. Your hands slipped beneath her top, rubbing at her sides and slowly inching her shirt up inch by inch. She finally sat up, straddling you and throwing off her top, her pale pink and lacy bra making you salivate. You reached up slowly as she bit her lip, nodding. Your hands brushed the fabric, your mind swimming with only thoughts of how intimate this was. You squeezed one breast, Nancy moaning softly before reaching around and undoing her bra, letting it fall loose, blush spreading from her cheeks to her chest. She shrugged off the bra, letting it fall to the ground before grabbing your hands, placing them on her bare breast, chewing on her lip as her blue eyes stared at you with want. You kneaded her breasts, playing with her nipples like you often would with yourself, hips bucking up at the erotic scene unfolding above you. Nancy rolled her hips against yours, moaning at the friction. You felt it too, the direct pressure against your aching core. 

Nancy leaned down and continued making out, the two of you moaning against each other's mouths, rolling your hips against one another. Nancy eventually tugged at your shirt, mumbling against your mouth. “Off. Now.”

You moaned against her, tugging your shirt up and over your head as she pulled away, then reaching behind yourself and undoing your bra, shrugging it off quickly as she leaned down and took one of your nipples in your mouth, immediately making you arch your back and whimper beneath her. She didn’t abandon your other nipple either, nimble finger tracing the bud and pinching it softly. 

“You feel so soft,” She whispered around your breast, licking the bud before nipping at it. She rolled her hips against yours as you bucked your hips up, moaning. She sat back up, cupping your breasts before pinching both of the buds and making you cry out, blue eyes staring at your chest. “So pretty…”

You reached up from your spot under her, tugging at her button on her jeans, whimpering beneath her as Nancy squeezed one of your breasts delicately before whispering softly. “Be patient, angel.” 

She undid your button on your own pants, tugging them down your legs before tossing the pants away, staring at you for a minute, biting her lip. You felt heat crawl from your neck up your cheeks, aware of your nakedness as Nancy spread your legs gently, softly coaxing you. She stared at the wet spot near your center before looking at you, smiling softly. 

“Guess I proved myself,” She said softly, making you hide your face in your hands, embarrassed at how easily she made you soak through your underwear. She pulled your hands away gently, tutting. “No, no. I wanna see those pretty eyes…”

She reached out her hand, her pointer finger rubbing your sensitive clit through the fabric, making you writhe beneath her. She hooked a finger into your underwear, eyes eager as she looked at you. 

“Can I take these off?” 

You nodded wordlessly, lifting your hips so she could remove the one barrier keeping you clothed. Nancy tossed the fabric to the side, staring at your cunt like it was a meal, licking her lips. Her gaze stayed at your dripping core, eyes dark with lust. “Ca-can I…I know I haven’t ever… but-” You cut her off by squeezing her hand that was holding your thigh, nodding. Words were escaping you.

She laid down fully, her soft breath so close that it made you shiver. She licked a stripe up your slit cautiously, continuing when she heard your whining. She kitten licked your clit a few times before sucking it into her mouth, shooting waves of pleasure through the bud. Your hands tangled into her soft curls, the usually tidy brunette waves now a mess. She folded your legs up against your chest in a gentle coaxing manner, humming against your cunt as you did so. She began alternating licking broader stripes and focusing on circling your clit with her tongue. She clearly was calculating which movements and flicks of her tongue made you pull at her hair more, being sure to keep the constant pleasure flowing. Eventually she pulled away from licking and sucking at your clit, moving one of her hands off to rub at the sensitive spot with her fingers, pulling whines from your throat, pleasure bubbling up in your stomach. 

“So pretty…so much better than anyone I’ve ever had, angel,” Nancy practically purred, making you buck your hips up into her touch. She stopped for a bit to stare at you, reveling in how your pussy clenched around nothing, 

“Nan...Nancy….,” You whimpered, pleasure numbing your brain, need seeping into your bones. “T-touch me, please…touch me…” 

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip in thought, her breath hitching as you begged for any release. She stood up quickly, unbuttoning her pants and stripping down to nothing, barely giving you a chance to react to her pink lacy panties. She laid down on the couch, making you sit up and look at her confused. She bit her lip and stared at you, eyes making you shiver. “Come sit on my face, angel,” She coaxed you, swallowing down her nerves. You felt your heart speed up, cheeks hotter than hell, nodding. 

You’d known from high school rumors that Steve loved the 69 position, and Nancy was a ‘quick learner’’. Of course this was before Steve grew and matured, becoming the sweet man Nancy befriended and children adored. But this fact intimidated you a bit. What if you sucked at this? You’d never- 

Your thoughts were cut off with a soft slap to your thigh, Nancy’s tone firm and meaning business. “Hey, stop overthinking. Just sit.” She laid back down as you climbed on top, your core hovering over her face before her soft hands gripped your hips and pulled you down onto her mouth, immediately lapping at your dripping center. You laid down, opening her legs and starting simple by circling her clit, your hands clammy with anxiety. She moaned around your clit, driving you to continue before slowly lowering your head to her center, licking a tentative stripe, and moaning. Her mouth against you along with the taste of her cunt, nothing like the other people you’d ever slept with. You began licking stripes up and down, circling her clit with your tongue, your own hips bucking against Nancy’s face as you continued moaning against her own dripping cunt, your pleasure building. Nancy’s moan vibrating against your clit, driving you to suck more and wriggle your hips against her. She kept rubbing your thighs, so gentle yet breaking you apart at the same time. Eventually you both were rocking your hips against one anothers faces, moaning and whimpering echoing in the room. You felt that familiar build up, popping off Nancy’s clit obscenely and whimpering against her thigh, begging. 

“Fuck…Baby, please, fuck, fuck, fuck-,” You whined out as Nancy pulled off you, those delicate fingers now thrusting in and out of your entrance while her thumb rubbed at your clit. 

“You can let go, angel. Cum,” Nancy whispered, her stern tone pushing you to climax as you cried out, bones suddenly gone, somehow still rubbing at her clit until she moaned loudly, clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, angel.”

You stayed leaned against her, your breathing still shallow as you both panted, her softly caressing your skin and laying gentle kisses on your skin, trying to catch her breath. You felt her whisper against your thigh, voice meek. 

“That was…better than the video I watched.” 

You laid in silence for a moment, brain still fuzzy before you laughed a bit, realizing Nancy meant she had watched (and probably studied in earnest) some porn. 

“Definitely.”

There was a beat of silence, the two of you comfortable and seemingly worn out for a second, before Nancy’s voice piped up below you. 

“So…are you willing to try something else?,” She asked cautiously. 

You scrambled up and sat across from her, admiring her naked body, her lean muscles and lithe stature. Your cunt clenched in lust again, your breath shallow. 

“We do have all night-,” You stated, cut off by another bruising kiss that had you falling backward again. 

Guess it’s true what they say…In New York, you can try many things.

Taglist: @reidsbtch

[hilkaro]

Quite an ordinary graphic analysis, really.

Gato posted a new artwork of Fox, and since I'm quite normal when it comes to this guy, I'll do a little analysis and share my own assumptions about the overall appearance (as I get the impression that what is generally available is only a fragment of the whole; I don't know what the patrons saw, and if there's more, I envy them).

I'll start by saying that the artwork is very dark; I had to lighten it to see the details better.

I assume Fox is lying in his studio, where he streams. He's wearing his costume and mask. Besides him, you can also see a choking collar with protruding spikes and a gag with a ring. Both of these items are well-known to us, as they were props he used during a certain scene... I wonder if there's a tentacle somewhere outside the frame.

As for Ren himself, it seems like he's lying on his back, probably beneath me, you, or anyone else... it doesn't matter, and he's looking up. His eyes glow in the darkness, indicating that, unlike me/you, he can see everything perfectly. His ears are lowered. I don't know about foxes, but I have a cat, and he flattens his ears when he's nervous, dominated, or wants to make more room for my hand when I pet him on the head. In this case, I assume it's not about petting or anger—Fox's eyebrows are slightly raised, not furrowed. So, I assume that in this situation, the beastkin is submitting to me/you as the dominant person, in control of the situation.

One of his hands is visible, holding a knife with a very thin blade. It seems to be a different knife than the one he used in the game. The internet claims that this type of blade is good for... filleting. Hmmm. The sharp edge is directed towards me/you, but I don't think it's a real threat or defense on his part. Rather, it's a reminder that despite the situation, Fox remains vigilant and ready.

I would like to go back to his eyes, which seem to be heavily swollen, as if he had a lot of loose skin on the lower eyelid. I understand that this may be due to perspective and how the skin, especially loose skin, works when lying down, but in my opinion, it ages him significantly. For comparison:

Perhaps it's because of the mask, which tightly encases his face, the lack of adequate sleep or hydration, or overworking; I don't know. The fact is, the lower eyelid looks swollen.

That's all that is visible. Now, what is not visible. I'm almost sure that his other hand is raised and lies next to him with the palm facing up, in a gesture of submission and helplessness (in contrast to the other hand). I hope this side is the "nicer" one (similar to other pillows), and here we only have, for example, an unbuttoned pants button. On this "spicy" side, I would like to see more of his body (and fur), as it was in the game when he visited the player between shows. I feel that this Ren has more confidence and has accepted his body enough not to be ashamed to show it. It would be a shame if Fox decided to show only his penis, at least for me. And I hope that if the other side exists or will exist in the future, it will be bright and in color, as if it took place in a cell in the bunker.

That's all that came to my mind. If anyone has any further thoughts, please write; I'll gladly read them. After all... normal people should support each other when it comes to Fox, heh.

Fox belongs to Gatobob. The screenshots come from the game The Price of Flesh and from Gato's Twitter.

[jimothy-hopkins]

So when I said o was taking a break from doing ref sheets I lied yall sorry. Have my new favorite OC I made less than a day ago!

Info about Abigail!

General Description:

Abigail stands at 5’0 with a thin build. She has a strong jawline and cheekbones. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of blue, that some find scary to look at. Abigail has wavy dark blonde hair with highlights bleached into it. Abigail wears layered clothing and tennis shoes, enjoying a simple style that she feels comfortable in.

Abigail exhibits a lot of social anxiety due to her autism. She has only recently gotten her diagnosis, and doesn’t know how to mask or properly regulate her emotions. This is one of the reasons she likes to keep to herself. There’s no pressure to socialize. Abigail would love to make friends, but has been discouraged to do that thanks to bullying in her younger years and how other students treat her at Bullworth. She is anxious when speaking, and fidgets as a way to soothe herself. In situations where Abigail feels threatened, she is likely to shut down. Behind her awkward surface, Abigail is an incredibly empathetic person, and wants to see the best in people. She is a loyal friend and a loving person.

Interests and whatnot:

Abigail loves to draw and make art. After school she will spend hours in the art studio with Ms. Philips working on pieces and projects she’s made. Art is one of the few ways Abigail has learned to cope with extreme emotions. She enjoys pairing colors and expanding on her ideas visually.

Abigail loves animals, mostly cats. Abigail has a few cats of her own, and frequently helps out the feral and stray populations in Bullworth. She has two cats of her own. They are two orange tabbies named Beaker and Gouda.

Collecting LPS is one of Abigail’s hobbies. She enjoys having them because they remind her of being a kid. She never remembered much of her childhood due to how chaotic her home life was at that time. LPS comfort her in a way and bring her happiness.

Abigail also enjoys watching movies, especially comedies. Her favorite movies are White Chicks, Heathers, and All Dogs Go To Heaven. Abigail likes animated movies as well, since she’d replay some VCR tapes so much that they’d burn out.

Reputation:

Abigail is afraid of the jocks. She knows they hardly get a consequence because of their hold on the school hierarchy. She does her best to stay away from them, but is frequently teased for being awkward and quiet.

The greasers don’t tend to bother Abigail. She is friends with Kate Valenti since they share some of the same interests. Abigail doesn’t hang out with the clique though, Johnny and the others intimidate her.

The preps don’t really care for Abigail. They thinks she’s weird and want nothing to do with her. Although, some members are a bit more empathetic towards her.

Abigail is relentlessly targeted by the bullies. This is why she is prone to shutting down. Everything she does in front of them is mocked. They have made her self esteem crumble, and she’s even embarrassed to talk about any of her interests because of them.

The nerds don’t really cause a problem with Abigail. They usually don’t interact outside of class. Sometimes she’s forced to listen to them rant about GnG.

BONUS: Abigail is favored by the prefects. She will run errands for them and tattle when she sees something bad happening. She stays close to the prefects on their patrols because she knows students won’t bother her when she’s near them. In a way, she’s friends with them.

Quotes:

“Give that back!”

“What is your problem?! Get away from me!”

“My life is like a Picasso. I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking for.”

“I’m not weird, maybe I just don’t wanna be friends with you cause you’re a jerk.”

“I feel like sometimes I’m the only normal person here.”

“All jocks do is play with balls I don’t understand the hype.”

“I’m gonna go see a movie with Kate. I’ll talk to you later.”

“We’re having an art show this week, if you wanna come and vote for my pieces. They’re not much- but y’know I’d really appreciate it if you did that.”

“Justin looks like Shrek in a derogatory way.”

“Those townies look like victims of DoodleBob.”

“I’m nervous.”

“I just wanna graduate dude please leave me alone before I tell a prefect!”

“Just leave me alone- I don’t want anything to do with anybody right now!”

“I could go for some dump cake right now. Damn.”

“One time Casey Harris shoved me in a locker so I put mustard in his cleats before a game.”

“Here, I painted a portrait of you. Thanks for being nice to me.”

[127luvr]

All my Love

Choi Seungcheol x Male Reader

There’s a comfortable silence that sits in between you and Seungcheol. There are no interruptions except for the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore. The crunch of the sand under your feet as you walked tuned out as you strolled side by side, with your arms brushing against each other every now and then.

Times like these were rare.

Dates where it was just the two of you finally taking time to yourselves. Usually, you were interrupted by the other members—not that you minded—but some alone time with your significant other was always appreciated. Even out in public you couldn’t be a normal couple—the two of you were usually adorned with matching black baseball caps and black masks to hide your identities to the unknowing public. There was no hand holding—no public display of affection between the two of you. Not that it was too common in private either.

“Do you ever wish we could be a normal couple?” Seungcheol kicks the bigger rocks he comes across, swallowing quickly before clearing his throat. “I mean, would you rather a boyfriend who wasn’t… an idol?”

“No.” It takes you less than a second to respond, giving him no time to overthink and get lost in his own head. “I wouldn’t change it for the world, Cheol. It does get hard, not being able to show you off and hold your hand out in public but it’s kind of a thrill. Like what if we get caught you know?” You look to your left, checking to see that he was still walking next to you with how quiet he was being. “That’s not why I’m with you. Whether you’re an idol or not, Cheol. I love you for you.”

“Do you really love me?” Seungcheol means it as a passing joke, to be taken lightly. But he has a gnawing feeling deep down that he means it. He initiates eye contact with you, coming to a halt near the shore. “You don’t have to answer that… if you don’t want to.”

“Seungcheol.” He cringes at his full name, something that doesn’t usually come from you. He’s so used to hearing you say his nickname that his name sounds foreign to him. “You’re always putting everyone before you, babe. You’re so selfless, I think you should start putting yourself first. Even if it’s just sometimes.” You squint your eyes, the sun reflecting off of the water hitting your (e/c) eyes whenever they meet Seungcheol’s own dark ones. “I love you so much. I know that we don’t say it often and we’re not really the most affectionate couple but even just spending time with you sitting or in your studio is enough for me. We don’t have to be doing something outrageous as a couple, I think as long as we’re together… we’ll be fine.”

Seungcheol smiles, his full lips losing their volume with his grin. He wishes he were more vulnerable with you—with anyone in general but it never came natural to him. He always reserves any conflicts he had for later, preferring to resolve it in his head so there were no misunderstandings. He wishes he could even share this out-loud with you but he knows he doesn’t have to. You know him just as well as he knows you.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 31: “fuck it we ball” day.

Day 31 for @augustofwhump.

Finally, sorry it's so late this just kept going and half way thought instead of finishing this and the last bonus prompt last night I came up with a new AU, maybe you'll see it next month or Whumptober as it has so much Elijah Whump potential.

anyway back to day 31 and Thanks to @riderofblackdragons for picking the prompts for me.

Prompts - Scars / Fresh Wounds / Tragedy

Plus a take on  "I needed you then. I don't know why you're here now"

Back to Caged Founder and following on from Rejected apology and Trap.

----

Lucien had stuck around with Klaus and followed him back to the Mikaelson compound after he had managed to call his team to escort Alexis back to his place.

While sharing her vision with the Mikaelsons was still on his list, watching the slow crumbling of Niklaus Mikaelson under the realisation of what he had allowed to happen to his brother was a Shakespearean or Greek tragedy and he didn’t want to miss a thing.

He had allowed Klaus to vanish after he first explained what little of the details he knew, for his own safety he knew better than to taunt Nik with fresh wounds, but after learning that his poor sire had spent the following days sulking in his art studio, he had needed to see it.

He really wasn’t surprised to find numerous paintings of Tristan, Aurora and most commonly Elijah is a range of style, most those of either of the Martels' were broken, stabbed and torn, Nik getting his anger out on those he could reach.

All while he sat with the various sketches and paintings of Elijah untouched watching him with various looks of disappointment.

Now after the Gala he was in no doubt Klaus wished to retreat back into the room, it was slightly to watch as Klaus was silent and tense his normal rage, his shield, gutted in the face of his loss.

A loss he hadn’t even noticed.

Still Lucien kept up his sympathetic mask, while he may have given up all his plans on killing Klaus didn’t mean in any way he was forgiving him, he was just going to watch his pain up close.

His feeling for Aurora had dulled once he realised she would never move on from her brother, she was still his oldest friend and he had learned the positives of that, being Jason’s ‘uncle Luc’ to Tristan’s powerless rage and Elijah’s annoyance, one key part.

His desire for revenge against Elijah had settled, he wouldn’t have wished Tristan’s obsessive love on anyone and for the poor sap to have fallen for the sociopathic former lord- well, they deserved each other.

Klaus was the last one on his list to see suffering and now he was getting a front row seat.

After all they were a family with a shared nephew, Klaus just didn’t know that yet. 

It helps that Lucien has nothing to lose in watching the chaos; as Klaus assumes the worst of Elijah’s captivity and to Lucien’s knowledge it could have been that bad once, but time had long changed that, as Elijah doubts Tristan while Lucien knows the man will cave to keep him at his side, as Tristan hides his fears that Elijah will return to his family leaving him and the Stix behind.

As if Elijah wasn't planning on getting to keep his current life alongside getting his siblings back, after all that was what he had promised Jason.

Meaning Jason will eventually be following them to New Orleans, most likely after the prophecy had been dealt with. He had no interest in dying alongside Nik, didn’t want to lose Aurora and unfortunately couldn’t risk losing Elijah and taking all the Stix with him.

Lucien preferred his nephew with a army of vampires around him and Aurora, so he didn’t have to worry about anything other than being the best uncle. 

Still that could be returned to in the morning tonight he wanted to see how far he could push Klaus over the stories about Elijah over the years.

He wanted to see if he could push him to tears, while being a good friend, of course.

However before he could really start the door opened and he choked at the sight. Freya Mikaelson, the beautiful image of power strode into the place followed by Nik’s child’s stepfather carrying Elijah in her arms.

Oh. He thought with a flare of joy, Tristan was going to panic, his precious Elijah stolen away during on of his Gala's.

"Elijah!” Klaus called, vanishing from his side to pull Elijah from the werewolf’s arms, the wolf had looked annoyed, not that Klaus had noticed his eyes only on his brother.

Jackson vanished after Freya had thanked him, saying something about not getting involved anymore in their family matters.

Poor man having not realised he was already for too involved to escape, Lucien thought and settled into one of the seats as Klaus laid Elijah out even as Freya sent him a look to make him follow Jackson.

He smiled at her, really there was only one place he’d want to be more than here at the moment and that was with Tristan when he got the news of Elijah abduction. 

The seething rage at someone for taking what he saw as his warring with the paranoid insecurity that Elijah would leave him. Lucien had grown up with the count’s children, he had been sure Tristan was heartless, now he had realised that Tristan was just unsuited to love without destroying it.

Jason was just lucky that Tristan, himself, had learnt this enough to be trying to fix it now, it took him nine hundred years but then Tristan has never been as smart as he thought.

It was something oddly similar between Tristan and Klaus that likely meant any psychologist that ever met Tristan, Aurora, Elijah and Klaus together would either run away screaming or want to study. 

“Maybe you should chain him up,” he offered as Nik hoovered over Elijah, more at the idea of getting to see Elijah’s reaction to waking up as chained by his own beloved siblings since he knew chains and restraints were things that always caused Elijah to tense.

His smile gave him away as Freya narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why?” Freya asked as she stood beside Nik and Elijah, the picture of protective older sister. Even glaring at him, she was lovely Lucien noticed with admiration and annoyance Mikaelson genetics were truly unfair to the rest of the world.

“Didn’t it end in a fight last time-” he offered instead of voice those thoughts, with a concerned look.

“I started that.” Nik admitted making Lucien blink, he hadn’t been sure Niklaus Mikaelson could own up to his own wrongs.

Apparently he could learn.

“Freya, wake him up.” Nik ordered, “We need to talk.”

“Yes and you have a time limit until Tristan discovers you stole his precious treasured sire.” Lucien added helpfully but was ignored.

Freya released the sleep spell over Elijah with a few words muttered under her breath; he couldn’t see when Elijah woke but he watched as both the others relaxed before Nik spoke.

“Brother, your home,” Nik explained, his voice soft in the way Lucien had only heard around Aurora and Rebekah, it seemed Elijah had now joined that group, Lucien wanted to grin knowing the man would hate that, especially after decades of being the Stix’s dear protected founder.

“Niklaus?” Elijah asked, clearly confused as he pushed himself up, Lucien waved as Elijah noticed him over Nik’s shoulder, the familiar expression of annoyance he got whenever they met.

“Freya-” Nik started to explain but Elijah spoke before he could get any more words out.

“Right and Mr Kenner was the bait, well played.” He complimented.

“Really Elijah falling for clear bait, what is Tristan going to say?” he couldn’t help but say getting twin glares from the older Mikaelson siblings,

“Shut your mouth!” Nic roared without looking at him.

“You're not angry?” Freya asked Elijah, deciding to ignore him.

“At this moment, annoyed at myself, I’ll be angry if this costs my guards their lives.” Elijah answered, “but I had wanted to meet you since I got the reports, hello sister.”

“Elijah, I-” Freya started but was cut off by Nik

“Guards, you mean wardens.” 

“No, I mean bodyguards Klaus.” Elijah corrected “as in their job is to protect my person.”

“You wouldn’t need protection, if not for them.” Nik snapped,

“If that was true I never would have been caught would I?” Elijah replied, pushing himself up from the sofa and forcing Nik to step back.

“You should have tried to tell me.” Nik retourted 

“I did for the first decade, I sent letters.” Elijah said, causing Nik and Freya to flinch, making Lucien wish he had more information about what caused that and he wondered if Tristan knew about the letters, had he allowed it and missed the apparently hidden messages in them or had Elijah managed to sneak them out.

“After the letters.” Nik muttered weakly.

“You only had to visit once, Klaus,” Elijah shrugged, impressing Lucien as he had been sure Elijah would let Nik off lightly in desperation to be reunited with his family, but it seemed their was a true bitterness that Elijah had decided not to swallow and hide. “even Finn noticed within the first few minutes of our meeting.”

“The Chambre de Chasse.” Klaus said after a moment making no sense to Lucien but Elijah filled him in as he spoke next.

“I assisted you to escape it.” Elijah nodded,  “what has that got to do with anything?”

“You could have told me the truth then, why didn’t you?” Nik questioned in confusion.

“What was the point?”

“I could have helped.” The feared original Hybrid appeared moments from whining as Elijah's expression remained unchanged.

“Helped with what?”

“To escape, I would have come as soon-” Nik promised, easy to say now it was in the past when Lucien was watching as he failed to ‘save’ Elijah now he was right in front of him.

“I don't need any help, I don't need to escape.” Elijah said flatly.

“You’ve been brainwashed.” Nik accused, taking a step back.

“I can help.” Freya offered

“Really?” Elijah drew himself up looking between his siblings, offended, “You think so little of me?”

“Elijah, I understand-” Freya started 

“My apologies sister but our situations were very different, you were a child when mother bartered you away.” Elijah spoke, making Lucien and Nik tense as a hint of anger appeared in his tone before he took a breath.

“You know-” Freya started reaching for Elijah but Nik sidestepped to place himself between the pair.

“He’s been spying on us for years.” Nik explained

“I've had people following Klaus for the last sixty years,” Elijah agreed, “at first in case he needed help when I was otherwise occupied, then it was to find out where he was keeping our siblings.”

Elijah ignored and continued to speak as Nik sneered at the term otherwise occupied, Lucien had to agree that was a delightful way to call being kept away and treated like a pretty pet by a controlling psycho.

“The vampires that offered to help against Dahlia and the spells left for me to help undo the crescent curse, you sent them all?” Freya asked looking at Elijah with a new look

“They acted on their own but yes I sent and instructed them to assist you.” Elijah admitted, “I wasn't going to leave my family without help when I could be of use.”

“Lucien explained that they prevented you from harming them with a ritual of some sort” Nik said as if it proved a point.

“And?” Elijah replied looking between Nik and him, Lucien shrugged as he had no idea where Nik was going with it.

“How would you know they haven’t gotten into your mind as well?” Nik asked, making Elijah chuckle at the accusation.

“Lucien is aware of more of this than any of you, and since you seem to have more trust in him than myself, how about we turn to his knowledge, Lucien has Tristan managed the impossible?” ELijah asked him, leaving suddenly at the centre of their attention.

“Well, -“ he started with a smile before Elijah cut him off with an arched eyebrow.

“And do be aware I will not allow my son around a liar, so which will it be spite or sense?” Elijah warned him, he sighed only slightly put out but fine humiliating Tristan was just as much fun as adding fuel to Nik paranoia and safer too.

“If Tristan had managed to get into your brother’s head without his knowledge he would have crowed about it to me.” Lucien explained, adding “nor would he be quiet so embarrassingly whipped, indulging Aurora is a joy but no man should be that pleased when it comes to you, no offence.” he said to Elijah.

“Some taken.” Elijah replied with a smirk.

“Then why else would you fall into his bed, after they kidnapped and bespelled you.” Klaus snapped, ignoring the last comment.

“Kept you from your family.” Freya added, sharing a look with Nik, as they did, Lucien noticed the way Elijah’s hands curled into fists for a second.

Clearly someone was feeling left out, he thought with amusement as he realised it

“Because Tristan had an obsession and despite his claims of not having a heart seemed to still hold our fling with fondness.” Elijah confessed with little care “and I was bored of being chained to the wall every night.”

“Bored!? You started sleeping with that- because you were bored.”

“One must find their own entertainment when without.” Elijah shrugged.

“What about Aurora?” Nik asked, finally chasing the mild smile from Elijah’s face.

“Ah-” Elijah winced and Lucien watched as there was a small glimmer of guilt in his eyes as he looked at Klaus “that was wholly on her.”

Aurora had bragged about that to him once he had asked her himself, her joy at getting something from Elijah that Tristan wanted but couldn’t have because of his own ritual and how much she liked pushing Elijah to his limit until all his manners vanished to a monster.

“What do you mean?” Freya said as she laid a hand on Nik's shoulder.

“We could have remained distant sharing Tristan’s bed after she decided to join us, Tristan so rarely refuses her, but for some reason she didn’t want that.” Elijah explained almost trying to soften the words as he eyes Nik.

“So you had no choice.” Klaus tried,

“I had a choice,” Elijah said clearly, “She was one of the few in that place I could hurt, I didn't turn it down. I gave her what her brother wouldn’t and she allowed me to do what I couldn't, it grew from that.” Elijah continued any softening of his words at Niklaus' attempt to frame Elijah as a victim apparently, “I didn't expect it but sometimes the most important things in life are those you don't expect.”

“So you're happy as some prize of the Strix.” Nik spat the words at him, "What happened to my proud brother?"

“I'm content with everything I have now, and happy even.” Elijah told them but before anyone else could speak they were interrupted. 

“ELIJAH!” The shout filled the room, and Lucien bit his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the undercurrent of distress in Tristan’s voice, he's almost sure only he noticed, far too much of the little lordling that once made his life hell than the calm collected vampire lord.

“Tristan.” Klaus snarled.

“RETURN HIM TO ME,” 

“Someone never learnt to share.” he muttered to himself as he was reminded of their childhood.

“OR YOUR CITY WILL BURN!”

“Tristan” Elijah sighed, fond amusement clear in the contrast to moments before “always with the dramatics.” 

“If you're harmed in any way-” Tristan's voice carried to those with supernatural hearing.

“Cease your racket,” Elijah spoke lowly, clearly meant for the one outside, which was answered as Tristan did as he was asked and stopped talking, likely listening as Elijah started towards the door. “I’m coming.”

“Stop.” Klaus demanded as he appeared in front of Elijah, but it came out without his usual confidence and sounded like the begging it was “Brother, you don’t need to go to him, we can protect you and break the spell he has over you.” Klaus offered with his arms settling on Elijah’s shoulders apparently ignoring as Elijah tensed under the touch.

Elijah was a tactile person with those he cared for and those he threatened, he didn’t like being cornered and trapped which was what Nik was clearly trying.

"I needed you then.” Elijah snapped, shrugging Nik’s hands off his shoulder and attempting to step around him “now you are simply making yourself a threat to my family."

“Elijah, we are your family.” Freya pleaded, taking a step towards him as well making Lucien tense despite himself, cornering Elijah was a terrible idea and Lucien didn’t want to be the one he lashed out at. 

“You are,” Elijah offered her a soft smile which seemed to stop her from getting closer, before he added, “but my son comes first.”

“Your son should be growing up alongside my daughter, protected by our family.” Nik protested, suddenly now realising that he could use him to convince Elijah, well Nik had been the slower sibling when it came to manipulation .

“Your ideas of that involved the deaths of Tristan and Aurora, correct?”

“They can live,” Nik offered like that was a gift to Elijah, something to sweeten his demands, “as long as they run and never come near you again.”

“So I return," Elijah laid out. "leaving my life; all I have built and all the power I have in the Strix, to you, controlling my life and bringing Jason to endure the same fate.”

“Brother I've changed.” Nik claimed earning a quiet laugh from Elijah.

"That's why the your daughter's mother and her entire pack are technically still under a curse, only freed by a girl that despises you for killing her friend and her when she tried to escape your control, why most of Marcellus' friends that surrounded him before your arrival in the city are dust now." Elijah listed making Lucien eyebrow raise as he kept going, "you’ve changed, that’s the reason Rebekah is wandering the globe to find a way to bring back Kol after you interfered with his last resurrection, needing it all to go your own way, despite the alternative way my people provided.”

“I couldn’t trust them.” Nik said instead of any defence for the rest of the list but given the way Elijah blinked as his smile froze, Lucien had a feeling that wasn’t any better.

“Why?” the older Mikaelson brother asked, tilting his head slightly, “because they weren't your browbeaten underlings, because they were of the Stix or because I sent them and you were angry I hadn't returned to your side.

“I didn't know-”

"none of the matters" Elijah sighed, shaking his head slightly Nik flinched at the sound slightly as Elijah walked past him.

"Elijah-" Nik started again even though he looked at a loss of words, but then when was the last time he hadn’t been able to bully his family into accepting his terms.

“If you wish for my return you’ll have to learn to accept them, my other family.” Elijah told them before he pulled both doors open to reveal Tristan De Martel surrounded by the Strix.

“I do hope my guards are unharmed.” Elijah greeted them lightly as he stepped out of the Mikaelson compound not looking back as the sound that escape Klaus was closer to a whine than the growl he would likely claim.

Elijah wasn’t as carefree as he pretended to be, Lucien noticed as looked between the brothers a few times before he understood it, Nik was holding himself back from attacking either Elijah for walking away or Tristan and Elijah was prepared to defend against him.

Nearly hundred years apart and they still knew each other to well.

“I don’t know why, since they failed their task,” Tristan replied, running his glance over Elijah for any sign of a fight “or did you leave?”

“Not of my own free choice.” Elijah admitted.

“How did they manage to-?” Tristan started to ask

“The same way you managed to catch me all that time ago, my mistake, luck and a powerful spell.” Elijah told him annoyance clear in his sharp tone, before asking “Now how did the induction go?”

“Your Marcel lives,” Tristan answered with a smirk, Marcel must have impressed him somewhat to get that expression, Lucien realised, “Aya is introducing him to some of the others but we can speak of that back at home.” 

The last part was clearly aimed at the Mikaelsons, gaining a glare from Freya and an audible growl from Nik.

The Stix, Tristan and Elijah were gone before anyone could respond. 

“I really don’t like him.” Freya said into the silence.

“Welcome to the club, love.” he smirked at her lifting an imaginary glass as a toast. “Aurora, Elijah and Jason are the only ones who do.”

“Jason?” Klaus asked, oh right how much did any of them know other than his existence.

“Our shared nephew; Aurora, Elijah and Tristan’s adopted son.” he told them, smiling as he found both the remaining Mikaelson's eyes glue to him.

"Tell me everything about him." Nik demanded.

"He has two of your paintings on his bedroom wall." he started, as he settled back into the chair.

—--

Elijah waited until they returned to their bedroom, ignoring Aurora as she looked up from the bed, to turn to Tristan. Cupping his hand around the back of his neck, Tristan allowed him to cage him against the wall.

He smiled widely as he made him look up at him, cutting him off before Tristan could start speaking of restrictions and demands for his safety.

“Do not think I will allow your over controlling paranoia to ruin this, I will have my family complete.” he warned him. “I am done allowing myself to be kept away.”

It had been easier to accept, to let it happen half a world away, harder with Klaus’ desperation and promises so close.

It grated on his nerves being the outsider in the looks shared between Freya and Klaus, their long lost sister has apparently taken his place with ease.

Sixty years ago he may have accepted it and stepped away but Elijah had lost too much and fought for it all back to give it up now.

Elijah had spent a childhood of every story he managed to get out of Finn carrying the undertone that Finn would have preferred  to have Freya over him.

Elijah wanted to know what was so perfect about the sister, the one he had never known but still grew up in her shadow.

He was going to get to know his niece and reunited with his baby sister on her return.

“Had it not been your family-” Tristan started 

“It wouldn't have happened,” he cut him off, had he woken up to not find Klaus so close , being so open, it would have been over before Tristan arrived. “Are you sure you wish to test me? Risk ruining the peace we have?” he asked, stepping back slightly to see Tristan following after him unconsciously.

“Like you always do when you worry, Tris.” Aurora added from the bed.

Elijah watched as Tristan looked between them, indecision clear as he debated for a moment.

“Fine.” he sighed heavily. 

“Good boy,” he praised, stepping closer again to press a chaste kiss to the other’s forehead, Tristan melted into him. 

True soft, sweet gestures, beyond what the ritual accidentally forced him into, were something he rarely so openly showed to Tristan and always seemed to have the largest effect on him. Elijah had learnt to reward good behaviour especially when it takes so long to train it into Tristan.

[the-roo-too]

behind the mask -> bandmate! oh haewon

if the leader takes care of everyone, who’ll take care of the leader?

warnings: overworking

genre: a bit angsty; fluff

notes: this is like extremely short

༻ ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ༺

you’ve always respected that people have their boundaries and somethings can be talked over in the right time. it was still getting tiring, watching your leader- your girlfriend- struggle on her own, while taking up everyone’s struggles.

kyujin can’t sleep lately cause she’s stressed? she’ll gladly stay up with the younger and comfort her, maybe watch some movies together.

lily has been getting some stupid hate for no reason again? she’ll go with the older girl and they’ll binge-watch old disney movies.

and when she’s feeling down? she’ll tell you it’s fine and that you don’t need to stay in the studio with her, while she’ll dance until she can barely throw herself in her bed.

and you’d never tell her you stay up these nights turning in your bed, in your shared room, until you hear the quiet sound of her footsteps and the exhausted sigh that leaves her lips as she finally falls asleep.

today, it’s the same as every other day. the practice ended half an hour ago and haewon already forced the younger one’s (except you) to leave. lily glanced at the two of you worryingly, but when faced with a smiling leader, she decided to join the kids in getting some coffee. thus, leaving you alone with your girlfriend.

you knew by heart how the interaction would go. haewon would glance at you through the mirror.

“you know, you don’t have to stay here with me.”

“i know.” you’d roll your eyes before adding. “but i don’t want to leave you alone.”

she’d look at you with a teasing grin.

“what, you’ll miss me too much?”

and normally you’d answer with a small scoff, tell her to be quick and go back to your room.

“i guess, yeah. i do miss you these nights.”

and this time, she turned to look at you with a surprised face.

“what do you mean?”

“you know you can always talk to me, right?”

“of course.”

“then why won’t you?”

and she clearly wasn’t expecting you to ask that.

༻ ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ༺

did you know bears let out something similar to moans when they are sad? occasionally they also woof. in normal situation, you probably shouldn’t come close to a woofing bear.

your personal bear haewon, on the other hand, seemed to greatly appreciate your closeness. she didn’t cry, even when she fell straight to your arms, forcing the both of you into a sitting position. at first her frame just stayed stiff in your hold. after a few seconds, she started humming a low tune.

“haewonnie?” she stopped, her sad eyes meeting yours. “do you want to go back?”

“not yet. let’s stay like this for a while.” and stay you did. a couple more minutes and she finally let out what she’s been bottling up.

when she finished, she looked back up to meet your eyes.

“thank you, jagi. this- it really means a lot to me.”

“thank you for opening up, wonnie.”

༻ ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ༺

[majormeilani]

sorry it's a thousand years late lol. idk what happened 2 me

Title: Curtain Call (Part 2)

Summary: DJ Grooves has to tie up a few more loose ends before he can leave the studio one final time. Some harder to tie than most.

Word Count: 8k+ content warnings: heavy mentions of suicide ideation and depression, smoking

[Part One can Be Found Here]

DJ Grooves sat stunned at the sight of the other bird in his doorway. It was something he probably should have suspected would happen but for how long had the owl been standing there? Why was he just looming in his doorway like that? Normally a loud mouth like him would have wasted no time barging right in and yammering away at him about some arbitrary nonsense but instead he was standing there. Silent.

DJ Grooves tried to even his breathing once more, fighting back the urge to let his tears flow enough for the owl to see. 

Stick it out for just a little longer, Grooves. 

The penguin leaned forward and began to zip up the suitcase he had just finished packing, giving himself a moment to try and think of what to say to The Conductor. Even though he knew in his heart that Conductor didn't care about him or what his whereabouts might be, he had figured that he had to talk to him about it at some point. 

And from what DJ Grooves could tell by looking at the owl's body language, The Conductor wasn't too keen on the news of him leaving the studio.

The owl was staring hard at the floor, hands stuffed into his pockets and shoulders slack. He didn't even glimpse up at DJ Grooves when he detected the sound of the penguin zipping up the suitcase. His beak was grit together tightly and he looked rather on edge despite his attempts to remain still. DJ Grooves could almost feel the anger radiating off of him; it was a sense he'd picked up on over the years of sharing the studio with the other director.

DJ Grooves stood up from his place on the floor, continuing to stare at the owl. The penguin's brows furrowed and he gently ground his beak and brought his hands together at his front. Despite the couple of minutes of silence the two of them shared, DJ Grooves was at a complete loss of what to say to him. 

After all, this likely would be one of his last conversations with the owl. 

What is one to say to the one who hates you with a burning passion? For the last time?

How would he want him to remember him? 

Did he want him to remember him at all?

The Conductor had picked up on DJ Grooves' movement, his head feathers perking slightly at the sound but the rest of him remained rigid. The owl's posture sank further and DJ Grooves detected that the owl grit his beak with a rather audible click.

Without looking up, The Conductor broke the silence with a harsh, disappointed tone to his words:

"So… ahm… that really werenae a prank, was it…?"

The owl reached up towards his own head feathers to ruffle at them, his nervous habit making itself known. Conductor shifted his weight onto the other foot and dug at the carpet with the toe of his dress shoe. His gaze was rather avoidant, still not daring to look at the penguin but he did his equivalent of glaring daggers at the dark carpet beneath him.

DJ Grooves could still tell he was rather tense, despite how the owl tried to mask his emotions and his miserable attempt at sounding calm and reasonable. It wasn't like The Conductor was good at hiding his feelings in the first place. Right now with the way he was carrying himself, Grooves could tell this was a rather obvious display of disappointment.

DJ Grooves looked down to his coat where the inner pocket was and gently placed his hand over it. The letter. He'd nearly forgotten The Conductor had seen the letter. His heart drummed as he wondered if the owl had gotten a good enough look at what was written upon it. 

Might as well try to act normal, nonchalant about it. Maybe try his best to keep things neutral. He best try not rock the boat too much before he leaves the shore. Which is definitely easier said than done.

But might Conductor think of his behavior as strange if he didn't try to gloat a little? DJ Grooves had to remember he couldn't let anyone think that something was amiss. Especially not Conductor of all birds.

DJ Grooves realized that he'd been making this silence entirely too awkward by overthinking everything in the moment. He had to blurt something out quick before the owl could start picking up on what was really going on.

"Sorry, darling, I just didn't want to break the news so soon-- but it seems word got around to you after all," DJ Grooves paused for a fake chuckle, bringing the back of his hand to his beak.

The Conductor's head feathers twitched again when DJ Grooves finally spoke and the penguin detected a soft scoff from him.

"Ye think aye wouldnae put it tahgether that yer actors were'll loudly spoutin' offa 'bout a sudden holiday? And tha yew were nae leavin' the studio because of sum letter?" The Conductor spat back at Grooves. "I'm nae an eejit, Grooves. I saw yer letter on tha boardroom floor. What's this whole thin' all about, huh?"

The owl's tone made him sound a tinge emotionally hurt by presumably being left out of the big news of his rival. He was still refusing to look up at DJ Grooves' face as well, like this confrontation was one he did not want to have. 

DJ Grooves feigned a playful smirk on the outside at the owl's reaction to him but on the inside he almost felt pity for him. The Conductor really didn't have the faintest idea of what was really going on and DJ Grooves was going to make absolutely sure of that. He couldn't know the truth. No one could know the truth.

DJ Grooves' hand gripped the edge of his coat before he reached in and retrieved the letter once more.

"... You mean this letter, darlin'?" he asked, pinching it between his digits as he held it by his shoulder.

The mention of the letter got The Conductor to look up at him and DJ Grooves watched as the beak of his rival scrunched up at the sight of the white envelope in his hand. 

"Why do ye always ask questions like that? Ye already knew what I meant by tha’ lett’r. What the 'ell is it for?" The Conductor scoffed again, voice lowering in volume as if he didn’t really want to ask. 

Of course, the owl had likely heard rumors of it and likely read the address of the letter briefly, but over the years of DJ Grooves living and working with The Conductor he had come to know him to be the type to affirm things very stringently. Even if everything around Conductor was spelling it out for him, he always needed affirmation for his suspicions and sometimes even then Grooves couldn't always tell if the owl believed them.

To answer the rather obvious, DJ Grooves brought a soft prideful expression to his face and stood taller on his platforms.

"I would have thought you would have known by now. Conductor, darling, it's from a film honor committee," DJ Grooves stated firmly, feeling his own feathers puff a bit at his lie.

"I 'ave never heard o' sucha rubbish committee in me life," The Conductor barked back harshly.

The old owl was folding his arms again. 

"It's pro'ly nae even a real committee…"

DJ Grooves felt himself jump at the accusation. Though it was true the committee was a sham, he had to convince his rival to believe in it. He was not going to let The Conductor stand in his way. 

"Wha--! Why would a fake committee send me a letter, darling? That makes absolutely no sense!" DJ Grooves sputtered back, cringing as his own voice raised in pitch and cracked.

"Yer darn right et makes no sense," The Conductor said, standing taller, jabbing a thumb towards his own chest. 

"If it were real they would'ave honor’d me ages ago! Me! Ah've won far mor' times than ye ever have and I 'ave never been invited to nae peck neck 'film honors committee' me whole career!"

DJ Grooves felt his heart drop in his chest. The other director was correct; no film committee had ever specifically honored him in such a way. Sure, Conductor had the occasional TV interview for news or other programs but a film committee specifically honoring him? Was something rather unheard of. Conductor's strong skepticism of the committee's non-existence was now breaking DJ Grooves’ confidence in his own lie.

DJ Grooves was starting to lose track of his original purpose in this conversation and decided his best course of action was to double down and his stubborn heart even told him the same. The penguin even felt himself grow angry and his breathing sharpened as he huffed at the challenge his rival had placed before him. Sometimes The Conductor knew just what to say to really set him off. And with Grooves' current emotional state, it was a recipe for disaster.

"Darling, you're being ridiculous right now," DJ Grooves barked back now, posture stiffening.

"Frankly, I think you're just jealous of my accomplishments. You always have been, darling! I think you're just upset that I have something that you don't."

DJ Grooves moved closer to The Conductor, watching as the owl seemed to tense as he approached. He then wavered the letter at The Conductor's beak in a teasing gesture.

"That's it! You're simply jealous of me. Jealous that I was finally recognized for my talents and success and you haven't been. After winning first place how many times now, darling? Fourty?"

DJ Grooves felt his tone grow mean and an edge to it; one that seemed to cause The Conductor to reel back from in shock and he watched as The Conductor's beak clenched and he brought his hands up to wave away the letter that had brushed against his nose. DJ Grooves pressed further towards him, their beaks inches from each other now.

"Face it, darling. You're simply just jealous of me and you don't want to admit that," DJ Grooves nearly growled at his rival.

The Conductor's feathers raised as he looked up at the taller bird from what looked like an attempt at a heated glare. The owl looked like he wanted to pout almost with the fact that Grooves had called him out in such a way. The jealousy was written across his face.

"Oh, PECK OFF, with ye!" The Conductor shouted back and retaliated by shoving DJ Grooves back from him and threw his arms down by his sides. 

"I ain't got nae reason tah be jealous o' a cheatin' peck neck like ye! Yer-- Yer just some crook anyhow with how ye always need some'ne else tah make yer succeed."

The Conductor gestured widely about the room as he spoke then pointed his finger straight towards the penguin's heart.

"Ye cannae do nothing on yer own! Without those litt’l lasses yer movie wouldnae 'ave been worth squat! And look a' how ye treated them! Diabolical."

DJ Grooves listened to The Conductor's rather ironic verbal abuse that was aimed at him, though he wished he'd covered his ears and blocked the loud-mouthed director out. He grit his beak at the mention of the darlings, an obvious dig at DJ Grooves to hurt him but damn if it didn't crack a pain straight through his heart.

Till the very end this is how things were going to be between them. No heartfelt goodbyes. No congratulations. No amicable hand shakes.

Just the miserable way that they have always been with each other since the moment they walked up to the studio doors for the first time till the moment they found themselves standing here.

It all made DJ Grooves so sick. 

So sick of everything.

So sick of Him. 

So sick of The Conductor.

DJ Grooves found himself clenching his fists by his sides, the letter in his right hand wrinkling under the pressure. He lowered his head to look towards his shaking fists and his tone dropped significantly and he spoke like his throat hurt.

"I've had enough of you and your vile words, Conductor. You can never be happy for me. You always have to ruin everything, darling."

DJ Grooves stepped closer again, getting in Conductor's face once more. Though he were merely acting before, his feelings of inferiority were resurfacing now. Even if this whole award acknowledgement thing were fake, his feelings now were raw and real. Words he'd wanted to shout at The Conductor were making themselves known and he did nothing to stop them from flowing out.

"Nothing I ever say or do matters to you. Why do you care what I do, then? What does it matter to you what happens to me? Or where I go? Or how I live my life?"

DJ Grooves voice grew a shake to it and he gasped briefly trying to catch himself from sobbing. He punctuated his next words by prodding the wrinkled envelope towards his rival's chest.

"Why. Do. You. Care? Why are you even here if you don't fucking care so goddamn much, Conductor?"

The Conductor leaned back now from DJ Grooves as the penguin got in his face once more. He was breathing rather hard himself from attempting to manage his own anger and stress at Grooves' aggression towards him. The owl's expression was now unreadable to Grooves; a cocktail of confused, surprised, angry, guilty. The elder director's posture sank pitifully like his shoulders were weighing him down and his forearms were hung in front of his chest in what looked like a protective stance.

It seemed DJ Grooves had caught him in a stalemate of sorts as the usually vocal bird was uncharacteristically silent under DJ Grooves' gaze.

"Why do you care…?" DJ Grooves repeated in a slow rhythm once more, as if the old owl hadn't heard him and needed him to speak slowly. A fire of anger was burning in his throat as he rasped the words out.

DJ Grooves' breathing was uneasy now as he glowered down at The Conductor. He awaited the response his rival would have to his questions.

The answer came in the form of the wrinkle of Conductor's nose and the aversion of the owl's gaze downwards. 

"... Fine, yer want me tah be happy fer ye?" the owl said in a light, fake-happy voice.

Before DJ Grooves could react, he found that The Conductor had yanked his letter from his grasp and had it presented in front of him.

The Conductor seemed to give the envelope one more glimpse before the sound of tearing paper filled DJ Grooves' ears. 

His rival was now shredding the letter right in front of him. Tearing each piece in half as he went until all that was left of the envelope and letter was small shreds of paper within the old owl's hands.

The Conductor then looked Grooves straight in the eyes and thrust the makeshift confetti towards the penguin. As the shreds rained down around them and at their feet, The Conductor said in a sarcastic tone, grandiose gestures with his every mocking word:

"Then Ah'm so peckin' happy for you, DJ Grooves."

The owl then promptly turned and marched out of DJ Grooves' door, vaulting over the guardrail to the floor below as he left. The last sound that could be heard was the patter of his feet stomping down the hall.

DJ Grooves stood there with a wide expression on his face, pieces of his letter lying like snowflakes in his afro and perched on his shoulders. He felt something like ice grow in his chest that captivated his lungs and made him feel as if he couldn't breathe. His legs lost all their feeling beneath him and he collapsed onto his knees on the floor.

He sat frozen, still not quite understanding what had just happened. Or if what had happened was even real. All he found himself doing was staring at the small shreds of paper that littered the floor now, seeing broken pieces of his own handwriting upon them. Tears in his vision blurred the words into blue fuzzy blobs as they began to flood and drip from his eyes.

DJ Grooves felt like he couldn't move. Every muscle in his body felt stiff. He could only think now, if not barely. 

Had Conductor really just done that…?

He almost couldn't believe it. 

Things really were always this way between them. They never could get along. There was no reconciliation between them. It seemed there never was any room for it to begin with. Even after everything, this is how The Conductor chose to act.

So this was how it ends between them. DJ Grooves with tears in his eyes and The Conductor, the one responsible for those tears, not even turning back.

The Conductor was one of his many regrets. And now that regret couldn't even be bothered to shut the door on his way out.

The Conductor was one of those who was always doing something to hurt Grooves and dig his hands into what he loved most and tear it away from him. Like his parents. Like the audiences around him. Like the friends he’d lost. Like the darl--

The sudden feeling of DJ Grooves' cell phone buzzing in his pocket awoke him from his weeping daze, his posture stiffening in surprise.

DJ Grooves reached into his pocket to retrieve it, trying to read the name that illuminated the screen. The name was blurred but became clear upon him blinking his tears away to roll down his cheeks.

Amor. 

His club's bartender.

He'd forgotten that he'd said for them to call. He'd nearly forgotten about the rest of the world being in his room for the past few hours.

The call being a rather important one still didn't shake Grooves from his current paralysis. He felt the buzz of the phone in his hands and his thumb hovered over the bubble to answer it but he just listened to the sound of it as the penguin on the other end waited for him to pick up. DJ Grooves himself waited for the phone to stop ringing and watched the screen as the phone notified him with a small pop-up that read "Missed Call" and listed Amor's name and phone number.

DJ Grooves exhaled a deep, shaken, breath at his failure to answer the call but at this moment he couldn't bring himself to put on a chipper act. There was no way he could pretend that he was fine after everything that had happened. He was finally growing tired of his own act and it was becoming hard to fight on like this.

How had he managed to do this so many times before? How had he found the strength to carry on? This was exhausting now. It felt like melatonin was injected straight into his veins with how lethargic he now felt.

Still, he knew he had to press on. He had to see this through. There was no way he would find comfort and closure if he didn't.

DJ Grooves' legs finally cooperated with his mind as they brought him to a stand. He still stared at his phone screen, the same way he had done before in the boardroom and made his way over to his bed to sit upon it. The mattress edge sunk beneath his weight and he began to recall what he'd planned to say to Amor on the phone. 

As he sat, instead of paying mind to the words he wished to use for Amor, he began to notice how soft his bed was beneath him. He soon found himself lying back upon it now. The way the mattress felt was something he'd never really paid mind to before and subconsciously he shifted further into it. The bed cradled him perfectly as he lay upon it. He supposed it was a small comfort he found despite everything, though he recalled the bed being where he'd spent most of his sleepless nights and nightmares. The place he'd woken up numerous times before. The place where he'd cried. The place where he'd dreamed.

Before he could think anymore, DJ Grooves fell asleep.

--

DJ Grooves felt his body being shaken. The fog of sleep still clouded his judgement and he couldn't make out what was causing his body to shake. He squeezed his eyes shut at the discomfort of being jostled about and he turned his face towards the comforter of his bed as the light from around the room was now permeating his eyelids. The shaking was now identified to be done by a small pair of hands. 

Someone was trying to wake him up. He felt a tug on his arm, pulling it from his body.

There were two small pairs of hands now.

A soft high pitch voice called,

“.... --ooves..?”

DJ Grooves caught only the last part that was said but the call came again, this time more clear and closer to his face.

“... DJ Grooves?”

The Moon Penguin now was hearing more clearly than before and his eyes opened slowly to meet with the gaze of two aqua eyes.

The eyes of Hat Kid.

The child smiled once she got him to open his eyes and she let out a giggle. DJ Grooves felt the owner of the other small pair of hands leap off the bed and patter to his bed side.

The other one was Bow Kid who was stood with one hand behind her back but she looked rather nervous but smiled anyway despite her nerves. She waved with one hand at the half asleep penguin.

The penguin lifted his head as he blinked away the sleepiness from his eyes before his eyes grew wide and he sat up on his elbow. How long had he been asleep for?! Panic beat in his heart as he felt about for his cellphone on his bed and his sheets but he didn't feel his phone there. 

Where was his phone?

Through his blurred vision he noticed Hat Kid turned to glance towards Bow Kid before she placed something solid and rectangular onto the bed. Bow Kid also pulled her arm from behind her back and placed a pair of star-shaped sunglasses on top of the rectangle. 

DJ Grooves picked up the sunglasses and pushed his arm against the bed to sit up to put them on. The penguin groaned sleepily and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand to try and clear them of sleep before he perched the sunglasses in place on his beak. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness of the world before subconsciously straightening his posture as he stretched, a habit he was mindful of.

“... Thank you, darlings,” DJ Grooves said, groggily, also picking up what he now knew to be his phone, which had been placed on the bed by Hat Kid.

Briefly he forgot his manners and where he would have normally greeted the girls joyously, he buried his beak in the screen of his phone as he checked his notifications. 

This action brought a simultaneous frown to both the alien girls’ faces, one that DJ Grooves did not outright see.

DJ Grooves noticed that he'd received fifteen missed calls and three voicemails from Amor and he gasped sharply at the time. It was already five o’clock in the evening! DJ Grooves shamefully pinched his brow and sighed in exasperation as he looked to the ceiling.

Then he felt a hand pat on his arm trying to get his attention before he looked down and now noticed the rather worried and almost sad expressions of the two girls. Once Hat Kid saw DJ Grooves look her way, she pushed her bangs up with her hand and lay her palm over her forehead. Then she made an ‘a-choo’ sound and gave him a quizzical look and shrug.

DJ Grooves gathered from her body language what she was trying to ask. 

She was asking him if he was sick.

This brought a frown to his face.

After all that he put these two through-- they still were concerned about his well-being.

He didn't deserve it.

DJ Grooves shook his head in response, both an answer to her question and at himself.

“No, Darlin’--” a sudden sigh paused DJ Grooves, “I'm alright, sorry, darlings. I have just had a crazy busy day today. But DJ Grooves is a’okay.”

The lie made him honestly feel sick to even say. Were there anything in his stomach, he would've felt like vomiting. Maybe he was sick. But not sick in the way the kids were assuming him to be.

Hat Kid smiled softly back once more and Bow Kid looked at him with a tilt to her head. He wasn't sure as to her reason for tilting her head at him before he realized-- he never actually broke the news to them.

DJ Grooves glimpsed towards both of their eyes before he perked up slightly. 

“Oh-! Don't tell me I've completely forgotten to tell you two!” DJ Grooves started in an excited tone, slapping his palms down suddenly against his thighs.

Hat Kid and Bow Kid both jolted slightly at his sudden enthusiasm, blinking up at him in synchrony.

“Did you darlings hear about my invite?”

Both shook their heads in response to his rather vague question.

“I was invited to my first ever ‘film honors committee’ interview! It'll be broadcasted live on television in a couple days! Isn't that exciting?” DJ Grooves gloated, loudly and proudly.

If DJ Grooves had teeth they'd surely have rotten from how syrupy sweet his tone was and how rotten these lies felt leaving his beak each and every time.

Bow Kid’s jaw dropped in surprise before she started clapping for him. Hat Kid also responded in chime with some clapping and cheered with a, “YAY!” and a little hop from foot to foot.

DJ Grooves faked an elated laugh and posed proudly with a hand to his heart before he stood from his bed and bowed graciously, as he typically did the few times he'd won an award.

After a moment of this tiny celebration, DJ Grooves reached his hands out to place gently onto their shoulders, one on Hat Kid's left shoulder, one on Bow Kid's right. The two alien girls stilled in their cheering as they watched DJ Grooves kneel to their height.

He looked them both in their eyes and felt like he didn't know what to say. This would likely be one of the last things they would ever hear from him. What could he say to them? How could he make things alright? 

DJ Grooves felt like his throat was closing and he wanted to collapse and weep once more but he held it in the best that he could. He had to. Even the darlings couldn't know.

He tightened his grip gently on both girls’ shoulders but only in a comforting tightness. Though he felt the tension from their gaze as they furthered listened for what else he had to say to them. Bow Kid even placed her hand on his and gave his hand a gentle pet, as if to tell him to continue.

DJ Grooves breathed a shaken sigh and looked down as he swallowed. Then he gave their shoulders a brief squeeze and looked at them through the top of his sunglasses. His words came slow and shaken but he forced himself to say them.

“... I-I want to thank you darlings for everything. With-- Without you two, I wouldn't be where I am today. And though things have been-- rough. I'm glad you're still here. Standing with me. Today.”

DJ Grooves choked up and his tears started coming, but he forced a smile.

“And no matter what happens--” DJ Grooves breathed sharply in pause, “Just know you-- you both mean a lot to m-me.” 

He loosened his grip and rubbed his thumb gently on their shoulders as if to comfort them.

Bow Kid’s big purple eyes glistened and she stepped from DJ Grooves’ grip and moved forward into his shoulder. One wrapped around his neck and the other under his arm in a hug and she held him tight.

Hat Kid watched Bow Kid go and she too had empathized with the energy of the current situation and also collided with DJ Grooves in a hug on his opposing arm. She looped one arm around Bow Kid as she did so, hugging both as tightly as she could.

DJ Grooves felt an immense wave of grief wash over him in this moment. Though he knew he had to say goodbye to the two of them somehow, doing so was harder than he ever expected it to be.

Though to them this was only a temporary goodbye, it was his goodbye to them forever. And they didn't even know.

DJ Grooves just sat with his arms wrapped around them and he loosened his legs to sit on his feet. Bow Kid had buried her head into his neck and Hat Kid had the side of her head pressed into his. Eventually both girls separated from him but he almost wished that the hug wasn't over, at least for their sake.

He knew he didn't deserve anything else from them.

As the two of them stood in front of him, he offered them both a smile. He noticed that Bow Kid’s face was wet with tears but Hat Kid didn't have tears on her face but he noticed one small one fall from her eye.

DJ Grooves laughed, brushing the back of his hand against Bow Kid's cheek, the girl reflexively shrinking away from the touch but allowing her tears to be dried. Hat Kid used the wrist of her own shirt sleeve to dry her face. Both girls giggled back at him with peeking smiles.

“Sorry, darlings. I didn't mean to make you cry…!” DJ Grooves rasped, before adding with a forceful nod, “I'm just. Very thankful.”

The trio smiled at one another and DJ Grooves stood up, clearing his throat and clapping his hands together once.

“Oh! Darlings-- I forgot to mention! I actually depart on my trip to the film honors committee’s headquarters tonight. So this will be the last night we see each other for a while,” DJ Grooves said to the two of them. “Don't try to miss me too much.”

The two of them giggled at his little joke, Hat Kid even rolling her eyes a little in amusement before she stepped towards him and grabbed his hand and gave it a shake

“I'll miss you,” Hat Kid said in her small voice.

“Miss you too…” added Bow Kid, her hands linked together behind her back as she did a small side-to-side sway.

DJ Grooves' smile faded again at their words. But he gave Hat Kid's hand a gentle pat before she squeezed his back and then let go.

“Well. See you darlings later. I still have to finish getting ready to go, Goodbye!”

“Bye-bye!” Hat Kid called back as she headed for his door.

Bow Kid waved at DJ Grooves with her fingers spread wide and trotted after Hat Kid out the door.

Once the two were gone, DJ Grooves breathed out one of the heaviest sighs he'd probably ever done in his life.

The deed was done. Now only one more loose end was to be tied. 

DJ Grooves looked towards his phone that lie where he'd left it upon his bed. He picked it up, the display illuminating as he held it right. 

Amor.

DJ Grooves sat on the edge of the bed, unlocking his phone and navigating to his voice mail. He opened the most recent voicemail.

“Hey, Grooves. It's Amor. Why aren't you answering? I'm waiting in the lobby now and it's been over three hours since I’ve heard from you. I'm starting to get worried here. Please call me back or hell, text me even.”

Had Amor really been waiting for him all that time? DJ Grooves cringed at himself for worrying Amor like that. He knocked himself in the forehead for being so foolish as to let himself fall asleep when he'd made contact with someone with the intent to meet them.

DJ Grooves selected the second most recent voicemail and hit play.

“Hey, Grooves. I don't know if you had your phone off or something but the studio doors are locked and I forgot my key. I'm waiting down at the lobby now but there's nobody here to let me in. Please call me back when you get this or come down to the lobby. Bye.”

Oh, right. Most of the Moon Penguins probably left shortly after DJ Grooves broke the news to them so no one was there to let them in. Even The Receptionist having fled at the news was rather unsurprising but also disappointing. Again DJ Grooves shook his head at himself for failing to meet Amor on time.

He selected the oldest voicemail in his saved messages and hit play.

“Hey, Grooves. Is everything okay? I just woke up a couple minutes ago and saw you left this message. I'll be there as soon as I can, I'm on my way. Goodbye.”

DJ Grooves felt what little of his already shattered heart break evermore after listening to these messages and seeing how many times Amor had called. How loyal the penguin had been to him despite everything.

He heaved a big sigh and threw his phone down towards the carpet before rubbing the stress out of his own features. One last time. One last time he would have to say goodbye. Then he could head off.

DJ Grooves stood up, walked to the suitcase he'd packed of random stuff and stood it onto its wheels. He took a quick glimpse into his mirror, briefly preening himself to ensure he looked more presentable. Then he took inventory of what he was going to take on his person on this final trip; his box of cigarettes and his lighter, his clothes on his back and-- the letter.

With a spared glance to its place on the floor of his room, shredded and scattered about, a frown creased his beak. He supposed that it would have to be left behind and collected by one of the custodian birds when they came to work in a couple days. DJ Grooves left the suitcase briefly and tended to the pile of letter fragments, sweeping most into his palm and meticulously pinching up the rest. For a moment he just squeezed the pieces in his palm as if he expected the gesture to form the pieces back together as one, which didn't work of course. Then he carried them to his desk trash bin and disposed of them, watching most of them drift down into it, a few fluttering behind it into the corner of the room.

He heaved another heavy sigh as he stared at the pieces, his brows knit. His gaze turned to his desktop and he grabbed his key ring from the mat upon it and he reached for the handle of the suitcase. Wheeling the suitcase towards the door, he spared one last glimpse around his entire room.

Amor was waiting but he was still lost in his thoughts again. Letting others down again was his favorite hobby it seemed.

But even still, DJ Grooves stared at the stars all about his room. The ones that would mirror the stars in the sky on his walk to his death. A brief bout of nostalgia came over him as he remembered when he first had them installed. He always loved the stars.

As he gazed at them, his hand reached towards their switch on the wall and he slowly dimmed them, the whole room becoming enveloped in darkness. He shut the door and locked it, not sparing the same nostalgic glances towards his dressing room as he made his way towards the elevator to use in ascending to the main studio floor, to meet Amor, who he hoped was still in the lobby.

--

As DJ Grooves walked down the empty studio halls, only the sound of the clatter of the suitcase's wheels followed right behind him. He passed by room after room, this time the reverse of his trek from before. 

Some rooms were dressing rooms, some held props and costumes, some were used for planning and some were used for breaks. All of them once held fond memories as part of what he once called home. Where he'd accomplished so much-- but also the place that brought him so much pain.

Movie posters from past movies hung about the walls. Bulletins posted by the Express Owls and Moon Penguins boasted about their daily lives at the studio and even small markings of graffiti scrabbled here and there, some by that mustachioed girl who spouted off something about ‘bad guys.’

DJ Grooves didn't stop to admire any of them one last time, just made note of their presence, and continued down the hall towards the storage rooms. 

He passed between the crates that filled the entire room. From ceiling to floor, in stacks that staggered in height, filled with all the wondrous props and equipment necessary to make four decades worth of movies. DJ Grooves had lost track of which crates were his and which belonged to The Conductor. They'd certainly had more than many fights about the organization of that mess of a room. The penguin heaved a sigh.

DJ Grooves finally reached the elevator and pressed the up button with his knuckle and the elevator doors breached open. He stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor and then leaned on the wall of the elevator.

As he ascended towards the first studio floor, he held the suitcase handle tightly with one hand and stared at the floor. The loud clatter of the elevator filled his ears and he closed his eyes as the rickety old elevator rattled him.

Once the elevator lurched to a stop, DJ Grooves stumbled a little at the sudden jolt the elevator made as it reached the top. He never got used to that. Yet it was the least of his worries now as he stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall and past empty studio sets.

DJ Grooves finally reached the front of the studio and stopped by the studio doors that lead into the lobby. He stilled his breathing the best that he could, both from his nerves still on high and from his lengthy trip back up to the lobby.

He still had his key ring gripped tightly in his palm, the keys pressing marks into his hand and he heaved a sigh as he pressed into the crossbar style handle of the door. His nerves caused him to peek through the lobby door as though he were a scared child, waking his parents in the middle of the night. After not seeing Amor in the lobby he gasped softly before pressing his body into the door as he scanned the room more for any signs of the penguin.

Then he noticed Amor was sat upon the bench in the lobby corner and DJ Grooves was overcome with a bout of relief. 

Amor had their arms crossed on their chest and gaze tilted down, their hat shadowing their eyes. They were silent as they sat there, not even responding to the sound of the locked door unlatching, despite the way it echoed about the empty lobby.

DJ Grooves' heart dropped a bit but he stepped out the door into the lobby and rolled the suitcase with him to his front. The door shut behind him louder than he expected it to and it made him jump and glance back at it. Then he turned back towards Amor and looked at them with knit brows.

The other Moon Penguin sat still in their place on that bench, unmoved. 

DJ Grooves looked at his keys that he still held in his hand and filtered through them to find a shining gold one with a key fob hung onto its ring that displayed the logo for his nightclub and the same emblem that proudly presented itself on the back of his jacket. He snapped the key free and it jangled gently in his hand.

Amor suddenly tilted their head up at the small sound of the key and their sunglassed eyes peered over at him.

“There you are, Grooves,” Amor said, pushing themself into a higher posture. “You kept me waiting so long; I figured you'd still come though. Never took you for being a punctual one, anyway,” Amor added with a small laugh and a smirk.

DJ Grooves was honestly slightly relieved at Amor’s patience and loyalty to him. His shoulders sagged in shame at how long he'd made the other wait for him but Amor, the ever patient and chill, still waited for him.

He really didn't deserve their loyalty to him.

Still, DJ Grooves put on one last fake smile to meet Amor's energy. 

“Thank you for waiting, darling. I'm so sorry-- everything that's happened has been so sudden and I've been preparing all day for it--” DJ Grooves said with the shake of his head as he tucked the rest of his keys into his pocket. “I just need your help with one last thing--”

“Whoa, whoa-- slow down there, Grooves. You still never really told me what's going on? I heard bits and bobs from the other Moon Penguins but I'm still at a loss here, friend,” Amor said as they leapt from the bench and stepped towards DJ Grooves.

The sound of the studio doors from The Conductor's side of the studio unlatching caught both penguins’ ears and then it shut again as briefly as it opened. DJ Grooves managed to catch a peek of some figure but couldn't make much out of what it was, though. Amor raised a brow at the door’s movement as well but turned their attention back to DJ Grooves. 

“Well…?” the purple feathered penguin drawled back up at their boss and close friend.

“Oh-- Oh! I-I’m sorry, darling. I was invited to a really, really important interview with a prestigious film honors committee and I snatched up the opportunity immediately-- and I need your help while I'm gone as I leave tonight.”

“With what? Exactly?” Amor said, tilting their head, eyes squinted. “... I don't have to star in any movies do I?” 

DJ Grooves found himself chuckling suddenly, startling himself from how melancholic he'd been the entire day. 

Amor. Ever humorous despite the circumstances.

“Oh, no, no, no, darling. Nothing like that. I just need your help with this--” DJ Grooves said, wavering his hand in front of his beak dismissively, reaching a hand out to grab one of Amor's. Then he turned their palm over and placed the enclosed key to the nightclub into their hand.

Amor stared at the key and then glimpsed back up at DJ Grooves' face, a confused look on their own.

“.... Your club key?” Amor said, still not quite understanding what DJ Grooves wanted of them.

“It's my master key to my nightclub, darling. I know it's a lot to ask darling but-- would you take care of my club in my absence?” DJ Grooves pleaded to Amor, cupping his hand over theirs. 

Amor was quiet for a second as they stared at the top of DJ Grooves' hand. Then after a moment Amor nodded their head and closed their hand around the key.

“... Alright. I suppose I can shift some things around to make this work. But you owe me big time,” Amor said with a smirk, lightly jabbing their enclosed fist against DJ Grooves' upper arm.

DJ Grooves smiled again and felt tears come to his eyes and he sadly chuckled in a thankful manner. Then he stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around the other penguin and hugged them tightly.

“Hey--! Hey, easy now, you big goofball-- no need to get sappy on me. You know it's nothing,” Amor said, patting DJ Grooves steadily on the back before giving him a firm brief squeeze in reciprocation.

“You're right, sorry,”

DJ Grooves separated from Amor and reached out to affectionately squeeze Amor's shoulder. 

“It just-- means more to me than you know,” DJ Grooves said.

Amor rolled their eyes but smiled back.

“Sappy again.”

The two laughed. Then DJ Grooves walked back to the suitcase that he left and grabbed its handle.

“Well. I'll see you around, darling.”

Amor waved and DJ Grooves mirrored them as they exited the studio’s lobby.

DJ Grooves’ nerves were still on high after this interaction and as soon as Amor was gone, he started breathing hard in slight panic. He'd pulled off the last thing he needed to in his plan, this time without a hitch. He bowed his head and placed it against the handle of his suitcase, trying to catch his breath.

Now was time to make it look like he just disappeared. He ran through his head his plan once more. 

It was time. 

It was time.

DJ Grooves stared out at the front lobby doors towards the desert outside. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stepped onto the front door mat, looking down at the Dead Bird Studio logo that was marked with countless grains of desert sand. The lobby doors swept open and he stared into the final hall he would cross to the outer doors.

His breath was shaky and he took slow steps towards the outer doors. He stared at his faded reflection in the glass door once he reached it, out into the parking lot. Despite how smeared the glass was with hand prints and other various smudges, DJ Grooves could see clearly in his own features how beaten that he looked. It shocked him how little anyone noticed how torn he was but he supposed it was because he was really good at hiding his pain as it were.

He pressed the door open. And out he walked towards his car.

The suitcase rolled erratically across the desert sand and straightened when DJ Grooves reached the paved section of ground. The parking lot was illuminated by the streetlights that glowed above and the warm orange of the setting sun. Once DJ Grooves reached his car he pressed the button on his car's remote and popped the truck open. He lifted the suitcase of nothing particularly special into it and stared at it before pushing the truck shut, resting his palms on its surface.

In the distance, he looked up to see Amor's own car pulling away and heaved a sigh as a gust of evening desert wind blew past him. He waved weakly with an open-closed hand gesture as he watched the other's headlights disappear into the distance as they turned onto a nearby highway.

DJ Grooves furrowed his brows and navigated to the driver side of his car, placing his hand on the handle. Then he remembered his burning desire for a cigarette and looked towards the pocket that held his final pack of them. He reached in and retrieved the pack and his lighter, holding one in each hand parallel to the other. Though he'd kicked the habit long ago that no longer mattered now, and thus he lit up a cigarette and leaned upon his car, which creaked slightly against his weight upon it.

He stared out at the clouded sky above as he inhaled the tobacco smoke into his lungs and created some clouds of his own as he breathed out. He coughed softly as he got used to the old burn but as he inhaled more he felt more at ease as the nicotine overtook his senses.

He was ready to do this once the cigarette burned out.

As he took drag after drag of his cigarette, he looked towards the studio one last time. He saw the figure of The Conductor by the front doors, locking them up for the night. 

The other bird director seemed to look around mindlessly into the expanse of the desert, but the distance made it hard for DJ Grooves to tell where he was looking. It really didn't matter if The Conductor saw him right now and he doubted that The Conductor would approach him after their conflict from earlier.

DJ Grooves huffed. He'd have to wait for the elder bird to head off before he could enact his plan. He took one final drag from his cigarette before tossing the corpse of it to the ground and stamping it out into the pavement.

The Conductor still stood there in the distance as if he were staring at DJ Grooves and though DJ Grooves wasn't sure if they met gaze, something told The Conductor to head for his train. The DJ director waited in his place as Conductor boarded his train and disappeared through its back door.

DJ Grooves felt himself smirk almost before shaking his head. Then he raised his car keys in front of his own beak between the tips of his digits and then. Dropped them onto the pavement. He swung his leg out to grab them beneath his platform shoe and kicked them under his car. The keys rattled as they slid under and DJ Grooves moved from his lean upon his car.

He never actually planned on leaving by car. His ending would be in a walk.

DJ Grooves looked out at the expanse of the desert beyond the parking lot. Then as the sun dipped into the sky for the night, DJ Grooves headed into it.

[theearlgreymage]

New Year. Same Projects. What a Shock.

Anyways.

I've been tippy-tapping away on my keyboard. Occasionally getting help from one of my cats who think that they can type on my keyboard. (They cannot, but they don't want to listen to me.)

Massive Hello and Thanks to all of you lovely folk who have been tagging me lately. Especially this past Sunday, I feel like EVERYONE was posting then, but me - whoops. @thewholelemon @artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @nausikaaa @that-disabled-princess @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter

Now. Onto the WIP Wednesday!!

I have TWO WIPs to share today. And one of them is actually Carry On. So sorry for my friends that have had to deal with my latest hyper-fixation these past few months.

Excerpt from Untitled SnowBaz Oneshot

I cannot believe I let Penelope Bunce drag me out here. Every single one of my ancestors is probably rolling in their graves as I cross the threshold to the studio. (Who am I kidding, they've been rolling in their graves since I came out as gay.) I'm shocked by how many people are here, all of them talking to each other as they get settled in front of their easels. Some have pulled up stools to sit on while others opt to stand, and there's two girls that have forgone an easel entire to sit on the floor with their sketchpads in their laps. No one pays us any mind as we walk around the circle of people, finding two unclaimed spots side-by-side. "Are you going to look like that the entire time, Basil?" Penelope asks as she pulls a stool closer to her easel. I scoff at her. "Look like what?" She just rolls her eyes at me. "Like you want to set this place or yourself on fire." "Seriously?" I seethe at her in a hush, leaning in close so no one overhears our conversation. "I accidentally set --" "Penny!!" A loud voice cuts me off as a taller bloke slides in between us. "I'm so glad you came tonight!" Looking over the strangers shoulder at Penny, I'm about to ask her just who the fuck is this, but her eyes are firmly planted on this newcomer. There's an undeniable blush on her cheeks. "I said I'd be here, didn't I?" She challenges the man as she adjusts her glasses. "And I even brought a friend." At that, they both turn to look at me. "This is Basil," Penny motions from the stranger to me. "It's his first time attending a class. Basil," she addresses me this time, "this is Shep - he's the instructor for tonight's class." "Pleasure to meet you," Shep offers his hand and I take it. He has a decent grip. "Likewise." "Are you planning to stay back after the session like normal?" Shep asks, turning his head in Penelope's direction. "Of course!" She answers immediately. And with Shep still looking at her, I can't help but raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her - one that she catches. Really, Penelope? The glare that she sends my way screams oh, fuck off, Basil.

And of course, a piece from the AOT project that has a chokehold on my life still.

Excerpt from Undecided Chapter of May Their Blood Boil

I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m supposed to do now. Every eye is firmly planted on me, and all I want to do is turn and run back down the hallway - find one of the secret passageways that Erwin’s showed me to slip into and wait out the rest of this ball.  Instead, I find Erwin amongst the sea of people. It isn’t difficult, he’s ridiculously tall and his hair shines in the candlelight. Not a single hair out of place, even his eyebrows look as though they’ve been tended to for the event. He’s in a suit that looks as though it was measured to his exact measurements. A soft blue, like that of storm clouds on the horizon with a rich gold embroidery along the edges that hugs his shoulders. What’s shocking about his attire, however, is the trinket on display around his neck. He’s wearing it as he normally does, like a bolo tie, with the emerald encrusted in gold resting on the ruffles of his dress shirt.  Erwin’s eyes worry me though. That mask that he’s been determined to wear is in place again, his eyes dull despite the bright smile plastered across his lips. There’s a glass of wine in his hands, he’s holding it delicately by the stem of the glass, and when he takes a sip of it he looks up towards me. Focusing on his gaze, on the smoldering fire beneath the front he’s put in place, I walk down the steps to join the fray.  I’m so focused on Erwin, I don’t notice Reiss waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. He’s holding out a hand for me, that I want to refuse to take, but his earlier words are still resonating in my eardrums.  Behave. Or I’ll execute every person in this palace who has so much as looked in your direction.  Placing my palm in his, I bite my tongue to keep from reacting to the disgusting clamminess of his hand. His smile at my obedience makes my stomach turn and my every muscle itch for a knife to lodge in his throat.

(Fun Fact - The first 5 Chapters of this fic are on AO3 AND there may be some secret fanart for this scene.)

Tags and Hello's to Everyone are beneath the cut 👋

@confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[fairy-writes]

Oooo, I do have more Uta thoughts because I love him. Recently though, the thought of him making the reader a mask, like the effort and care he'd put into it, it's just so sweet to me! Idk if that's a whole idea or request or anything but I just wanted to share 😅

MASK MONGER

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Gender Neutral!Ghoul!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Fluff, mask making, the reader is a ghoul, affectionate/cuddly reader (and Uta)

Notes: Feel free to send in more requests for Tokyo Ghoul! I’ll write for pretty much anyone!

__________________________________________________________________________

Uta was acting strange.

Well, stranger than usual. 

He had been incredibly secretive, not allowing you into his backroom where he worked on his masks. Usually, you had free range of his entire shop, but now he was keeping it locked with a key kept in his pocket. He also avoided your questions about what he was doing. That in and of itself wasn’t that odd. He normally playfully deflected your questions. But now, it was in an almost serious manner. 

It wasn’t like you could steal the key from him. Nothing could sneak past Uta. 

But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t try. 

You made your first attempt when you two were at his desk. He had always run hot while you were chronically cold. So you greedily soaked up his warmth while he sketched in his notebook. He was at his desk in his bedroom, you in his lap, as he worked. You watched in fascination as his graphite pencil smoothed over the page, almost like magic. It was beautiful so far. But, then again, Uta’s sketches always were. 

“So, what are you working on again?” You asked after several minutes of silence. He hummed, 

“Mask for a customer.” He said, and you leaned back against his broad chest, tracing the tattoos on his arms with your fingertips. 

“They’re a ghoul, right?” You ask, and he brushes his nose against the back of your neck,

“Left.” He says, and you roll your eyes.

Another few minutes of silence before your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“Why can’t I go in your back room?” You ask, and he pauses in his sketching. Then, he presses a kiss to the back of your head, and you shift to look at him. He’s avoiding your eyes, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. Finally, you reach to cup his jaw, guiding his head, so he looks at you. 

Your eyes searched his black and red ones, and you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. He tastes like coffee. Black, no cream or sugar. His hand catches yours that was attempting to work the key out of his pocket. 

“Nice try.” He says with a slight smile. 

You just pout. 

Plan failed. 

Your subsequent attempts go just as badly. Uta always manages to catch you just as your fingers brush the metal of the key. It’s like he’s teasing you by almost letting you grab it. He always smiles that secretive smile and wanders away while you groan in disappointment. 

This goes on for weeks. 

Until he finally shows you what he’s been working on. 

You knock on the door of HySy ArtMask Studio and wait. When he doesn’t answer, you pull out your own key to the front door and fit it into the lock. It opens with a slight ‘click,’ and you walk right on in, ignoring the ‘closed’ sign in the window. 

“We’re closed—oh, it’s just you,” Uta calls as he comes out of his backroom, pausing when he spots you shedding your coat and hanging it up on the coat rack. 

“Just me?” You say, playfully angry. He shrugs but brightens when you pull out a ziplock bag of his favorite. Eyeballs. 

“A snack from Yoshimura.” You say as you pop one in your mouth and pass the rest to your lover. He takes them, eating one as he beckons you to follow him. 

You are delighted when he opens the door to the backroom but pause when he covers your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” You ask and shiver when you feel him speak next to your ear.

“It’s a surprise.” He whispers and nudges you forward, ensuring you don’t trip on anything. 

It’s only a few seconds before he pulls you gently to a stop.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod enthusiastically. 

“I’ve been ready for weeks, Uta.” You reply and hear him laugh quietly before he takes his hands away from your face, and you gape when you see just what he has been hiding. 

It’s a pristine white full-face mask, with your favorite color in the shape of designs of bird feathers decorating the corners of the eyes. The mouth is carved with a secretive smile, and the eyes are empty holes waiting to be filled. 

It’s beautiful.

You spin and stare at Uta, who is leaning against the doorframe. 

“Who is this for?” You ask quietly, and he gestures to the mask.

“Try it on and see.” He says cryptically, and you turn back to the mask on the table. You pick it up gently, admiring the leather and ceramic that the mask was made of. You turn it around, fitting it to your face. It’s smooth and cool, matching the curves of your face perfectly. 

Tears threaten to spill over the curves of your cheeks. 

He made you a mask?

You take it off but don’t put it down as you throw your arms around his neck and hug him close. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, and he fits his arms around your waist.

“Of course, my love.”

[fandomsarefamily1966]

Character ask: Beth March (Little Women)

Tagged by @princesssarisa. Thank you so much for this, as I love her and have a lot of feelings about her that I want to share.

Favorite thing about them: She is the kindest character in the whole book, and this turns out to be her biggest strength. She may be so shy to the point that talking to people outside her family is extremely difficult, but she doesn't let that stop her from helping those who need it, whether it's helping the Hummels when the baby is sick with scarlet fever, or talking to Frank to try and cheer him up. And this has an enormous impact: everyone adores her, to the point that they all miss her when she first gets sick, and make sure to show her how much she means to them when she's on her deathbed. She may not have "achieved" anything like her sisters do, but she still matters, and that means so much to me.

Least favorite thing about them: When she tells Jo to take her place after she dies. Like... Beth, sweetheart, no. No one could ever replace you. And Jo doesn't need to be more like Beth to be worthy of love. The fact that Mr. Laurence says something similar after he returns from Europe with Amy and Laurie doesn't help, either.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I've always been really shy and awkward, and tend to mostly keep to myself.

*I love music.

*I always try to be kind and help people as best I can.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I do want to get married and leave the house someday.

*I'm not much of an animal person.

*I can't play the piano, but I would like to learn how.

Favorite line: Once again, there are many, but I'll try to keep it simple.

When she starts to overcome her fear of Mr. Laurence for the grand piano:

"I'm Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure no one will hear me and be disturbed."

When she gently calls out Meg in the way that only she can:

"You said the other day that you'd be perfectly happy if you could only go to Annie Moffat's."

When she commends Amy for her behavior with the rich girls and once again shows that she's not an impossibly perfect saint:

"Yes, we all do, and love her for being so ready to forgive. It must have been dreadfully hard, after working so long, and setting your heart on selling your own pretty things. I don't believe I could have done it as kindly as you did."

And finally, her reaction to Jo's poem about her:

"Then I don't feel as if I'd wasted my life. I'm not so good as you make me, but I have tried to do right, and now, when it's too late to begin even to do better, it's such a comfort to know that someone loves me so much, and feels as if I'd helped them."

brOTP: Her sisters, especially Jo, as well as Mr. Laurence. (I also feel like in crossover land, Lucy and Frodo would absolutely adore her, and vice versa.)

OTP: None.

nOTP: Mr. Laurence, or any member of her family.

Random headcanon: She's either on the autism spectrum, has social anxiety, or both, and her angelic image is an attempt to not be a burden to her loved ones and to try and make up for the fact that she can't mask.

Unpopular opinion: If any of the March sisters are aromantic, it's Beth, not Jo. Beth never wants to get married or have children, and Jo does change her mind about that after a while, which I guess might rub some people the wrong way. This isn't to say that you can't have whatever headcanons you want, but this makes more sense to me. Also, I don't normally say stuff like this, but if you think that Beth "needs to die" just because she's not a normal girl, you're ableist, plain and simple.

Song I associate with them:

"Stuck Inside a Cloud" by George Harrison.

"April Come She Will" by Simon and Garfunkel.

"marjorie" by Taylor Swift.

Favorite picture of them:

These illustrations by Pablo Marcos Studio:

With Mr. Laurence:

As the postmistress:

When she gets scarlet fever:

The snow maiden:

With Jo, before she reveals her doom:

With Jo at the seashore during THAT scene:

The last time we see her in this version:

These illustrations by Michael Adams:

With Mr. Laurence (this version is more affectionate):

With Meg and Jo watching over her on her sickbed:

This black and white illustration of her with her cats on her (first) sickbed:

[cowboyhorsegirl]

CAP-IM Rec Week: Absolute Faves Monday

a quick & dirty reclist of all some of my absolute best beloved stevetony fic faves <3

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) by @kiyaar

“Why don’t you take that off,” Tony whispers back, and he tugs at the guy’s mask. He tries an arm around his waist, firm, solid, hot. Tony is hard and it’s obvious. He thinks he’d be more of a gentleman about it under normal circumstances, but in this place, it’s like a handshake. He shudders and his back muscles move beneath Tony’s hand. Tony’s pants grow tighter. He smells like Barbasol. A well-respected man. Tony wants to disrespect him. (an AU where Steve never gave up the Nomad mantle, Tony has a coke habit, and they meet on the dance floor at Studio 54.)

Podfic available from @whenasinsilks!

Please everyone go read this fic immediately and then report back so we can all go disco dancing together while screaming abt the SteveTony identity porn mutual pining drug-fueled blowjob of all time <3

Sins of Omission by @kiyaar

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony's a mess, and everything sucks. In which Tony deals poorly with Steve's death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot. Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

Literally a classic, this fic is the SteveTony Odyssey.

Under God by @isozyme

“Captain America represents the values of our country. The recent allegations about his sexuality are specious and designed to smear an American icon. Captain Rogers regularly attends the Church of Saint Agnes and invites the citizens of New York to attend worship with him this Sunday, April 14th. God bless America.” Nobody was ever going to know. Steve would be a good husband, a good father, and he’d never give in to sin and touch another man. But Steve makes two mistakes, one after the other: he leaves two words out of the Pledge of Allegiance, and he doesn’t notice a camera flash among the strobe lights of a dark club, because he’s dancing with his clumsy hands on Tony’s hips.

Podfic available from Cathalinaheart!

No words, only ugly beautiful emotions about being gay in the Zeroes, internalized homophobia, falling in love, and perhaps even preempting the Iraq War.

the face and the mask are mirrors, baby (the genderqueer remix) by @imaginaryelle

When Tony’s young, he thinks maybe he’s built wrong. He thinks: Maybe one day, if he gets good enough, he’ll be able to redesign Tony Stark. Cast himself in a new mold. One day, he’ll be better.

I actually think this fic was created in a secret lab specifically for me to read and be irrevocably changed and made better by it; sharing so that you all can also partake in the revolutionary experience of reading this fic and being better for it too :)

Semaphore by DevilDoll

"I’m trying to like you, Tony. You’re just making it very hard."

Podfic available from crinklysolution!

To me, this is always The 2012 Avengers-era SteveTony fic. In my eyes, it eclipses and predominates the whole of its fandom. It was I think, maybe the first MCU SteveTony fic I read back when I first got into this fandom over 10 years ago and it's stuck with me ever since, and if that isn't enough of a recommendation then I simply do not know what is!

Amor Fati by citsiurtlanu

Tony Stark has always known what the words on his wrist are supposed to lead to. What he's never known is who the words are for. 616 soulmate AU.

Honestly and truly and genuinely don't have the words to articulate how heartwrenchingly gorgeous this fic is. It has pulled real life tears from me and imprinted itself into my memory. For all the ups and downs of 616 canon, we can thank every moment of it for having existed because citsuirtlanu was able to distill it down into this incredible, incredible story. <3

Five Days a Week by @festiveferret

The day after Pepper's funeral - after Rhodey has come and gone, after Natasha has come and gone, after Tony has forcibly sent Happy away - Tony looks out of the front window, Morgan snoozing in the crook of one arm, and sees a dark, heavily-tinted car in the driveway.

The perfect, the perfect Endgame fix-it. There's a certain kind of magic in this story that I don't think I've found in any other stevetony fic to date. This fic is heartbreak and grief and guilt and friendship and romance all rolled into one indescribably lovely story.

[yanderes-galore]

Alphabet thing I'm talking about: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderes-galore/694826177262682112/i-believe-op-reblogged-you-can-use-this-so-should?source=share

Fandom: BioShock

Character: Sander Cohen!

Pairing: romantic.

Type of Fic: prompts from an A-Z list.

(Required for prompts) Prompt numbers and what list they're from: letter D, numbers 1 and 3

I dont normally include links in my asks but I'm pretty sure u reblogged this and I wanna make sure you know which one I'm talking about

I was originally going to ask for help on the plot but I know exactly what to do with this!

Prompts Here

Yandere! Sander Cohen Prompts D-1, D-3

“This hurts me more than it hurts you.”

“Why are you running? I did this for you!”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Obsession, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Implied kidnapping, Forced relationship, Darling's fate is implied yet vague, Death.

What better way to show you care than with the beauty of art? Cohen simply had to show his greatest muse how much he adores them. They provide him with inspiration, he cares about them more than anyone else in this place.

With you in mind, Cohen put on an entire private exhibit for you. He made sure every piece of art sung the same tune. He wanted you to experience one big message when he shows you.

He wants it all to say that he loves you.

Cohen puts his heart and soul into his art. He made it strictly private so it could just be you and him. Such art is not meant for prying eyes!

It would ruin everything.

Cohen wrote the invitation himself. He even gave you a mask to go along with it. Everything was then wrapped in a box and sent to where you lived in Rapture. It was just time to wait now!

He made it all seem like you were just coming in to be his muse, inspiration. In reality you were coming in for much more than you expected. Much much more....

When you approach Cohen, wearing the mask he gave you with confusion, he grins.

"Right this way! Have a look, my rabbit."

Then Cohen pulls the curtain aside, blessing your eyes with...

Horrors.

Your jaw slacks open as you look around. The studio smelled of blood and rot. Plaster sculptures are portrayed in all sorts of sporadic poses. The paintings that depicts strange artistic depictions of hearts and intimacy smell of metal and quite possibly lead.

You back away, completely unaware of Cohen locking to doors behind you. When you turn to leave, Cohen looks at you eagerly. You are cut off from the door when he sees the fear and disgust on your face.

"Dear, why do you look at me so?"

You want to run, you need to run.

As Cohen walks away from the locked door in an attempt to hold you, you dart away. You shake your head and plead with him. He's always been a psychopath, you hate that you're scared of him enough to follow his invitations.

“Why are you running? I did this for you!” Cohen yells, stepping closer. "Is my work not enough for you!?"

You scramble away from him but he grabs your arm. You struggle but Cohen holds you still with a frown. Oh you're so dead....

"Let me go, Mr Cohen! You're hurting me!" You plead to him, stopping your pulling while tightens his grip.

“This hurts me more than it hurts you.” Cohen answers bitterly, glaring at you. "I make you a gift and you HATE it!"

"I-I don't hate it...!" You try to appeal to him but he shakes his head.

"Fine, fine... maybe it isn't enough for you. I just need to come up with something grander..." Cohen hums, eying the plaster sculptures in thought. He then looks back at you. You hate the look in his eyes. "Well... if you didn't like this gift. Then maybe you can provide me some inspiration to make something you'll like?"

You give a look of confusion before he pulls you along through the studio. You plead to him more when he stops in front of buckets of plaster. You give him a look of worry and he ignores it.

"Maybe you're right... I need a new way to express my love for you."

It's only then he turns to you with a wicked grin. Your heart stops when he picks up a bucket and turns to you.

"I just need you to help me."

[mintbees]

What do you play as in BG3? Could you share a little bit about your character?

oh my bg3 character is kind of "boring" in that sense since im playing as my dnd character Misko! He's a thiefling rogue who in the campaign is a charisma based arcane rogue but bg3 doesnt let u do that so im just a regular ole rogue. He's a nosy dumbass who loves to talk to everyone and its why ive had half the camp confess their love to him so far. I'm romancing astarion because personally a mean sassy twink is excactly my type (not to say astarion isnt miskos type, he is.) but misko would absolutely fold for Halsin in .2 seconds because his type is Big Strong Men with long hair

^^ miskos husband (Parun) and his former toxic yaoi situationship (finnigan) for example. My personal beef with bg3 is that the face selection is super limited and none of the faces even remotely looked like Misko. The fact there isnt a hooked nose option larian studios when i Get You

The horns i get theyre super weird theyre not gonna be in any character creator i get that but that face. that is NOT my boy.

I made the dream guardian Finnigan rather than Parun because i knew going in that the dream guardian would be a manipulative fuck so it fit better. And coincidentally making an accurate finnigan in the character creater took less than a minute

I'll explain as brief as i can that Misko has total amnesia of his life before he woke up in a forest where finnigan found him and finnigan took advantage of how gullible and kind misko was. Putting him in an emotionally manipulative "relationship" where he was fully dependent on finnigan and was discouraged from finding anything out about his past lives. Making the emperor mask as finnigan just felt a natural choice ykno? Misko is a mostly goodie two shoes character but he has crazy intimidation stats and isnt afraid to use them if you get on his nerves. He's like a crusty white dog that old ladies have. There's also Desmond.

My friend desmond is playing along to help me through the game and he is playing the most evil looking twink ive ever seen. A few days ago he ran off to do a "side quest" for 10 minutes while i was buying outfits and when i checked in on him he was doing a ritual in a blood pool for the god Bhaal? Normal things. Misko thinks hes cool though