#maybe its all just breadsticks

[shouyuus]

i feel like a modern day vi would be a huge stoner. MAYBE ITS JUST BC I AM AND LIKE GOD a sesh w/ vi would be A+, but i just feel like it makes sense. she'd be full of giggles and would just talk your ear off.

i cant smoke for a variety of reasons but i do agree that modern!vi would be a huge smoker LOL -- but tbh think she'd bop between like... lounging on the couch and saying shit like "have u ever thought about how weird it is to have hands? like... aren't they so weird?" to like thinking everything u say is just the funniest shit ever, giggling till she's crying. if ur not there u def get like 12 voicenotes of her being like "i wish people would make like... just the pizza crust. i love pizza crust -- that's a good business idea like, if we JUST opened a place that sold only the crust of the pizza" and "why does ur laundry always smell so nice? mine always smells like shit -- do you spray perfume in ur dirty laundry? are all the hot girls gatekeeping this info from me?"

u reply like -- "vi, that's what breadsticks are." and "no that's my clean laundry, i just haven't folded it yet and pls stop stealing my socks they're nOT gonna make ur feet smell better okay pls im running out"

[ficandkaboodle]

The Stroke of Midnight (Copia x Fem!Reader) - NSFW

A/N: Veteran smut-writers, y'all deserve a hillside of marigolds and picnics complete with pasta and endless breadsticks 🫡 (Seriously, though, thank you to all who've put up with me on this beast. It put me on life-support just long enough to finish it in time! Y'all deserve the pasta picnic and some cookie boxes with dope-ass cookies) It’s my first attempt at non-blurb smut so you’ve been warned… Banner Credit Goes to @saradika-graphics! Word Count: 5897. Shoot dang, almost made it to 5900! CW: Reader and Copia are buzzed so expect many, many references to alcohol and its consumption. And you know what happens when Copia gets buzzed . . .👀 So on that note . . . MDNI for sexy times while intoxicated!

Shady business and unfeasible expectations be damned (or perhaps blessed): the Satanic Church knew how to throw an actually good New Years Eve party. Of course, it would've been given enough if it relied solely on the expectation that alcohol flowed like water. But no: They went the extra mile and actually included food. Not dinky little cocktail wienies and room temperature hors d'oeuvres –  honest to Beelzebub food!

Now that was a commitment to making sure everyone in the congregation was having a good time, in your opinion. Everywhere you looked, there was some form of excitement: Siblings dancing; Clergy members opening party crackers while drunkenly cackling at the curse of glitter they'd inflicted on each other; ghouls challenging each other to shot-downing competitions; and everything in-between.

In short, it was a beautiful bacchanalia with which to welcome another year of spreading the Old One's word.

The only thing that could make it actual perfection, though? Perhaps if your boyfriend of a month and a half were actually by your side. Or, at the very least, within eye shot!

You weren't entirely shocked that he'd disappeared. Being Frater Imperator, it was only an expectation that he might get pulled away for some ass-kissing from residential and visiting eminences alike. But it had been almost half an hour, and your own friends had wandered off to makeout or have other types of fun with their own significant others at this point.

Far be it from you to consider yourself clingy – you liked your independence. But . . . Okay, maybe some sappy part of you still lingered inside, coloring your thoughts and expectations. Specifically, they were colored with the same black and pink of Copia's lips.

Part of you wondered what cheesy holiday romcom you were trying to replicate, holding out for something as cliche as a kiss on New Years. You’d even gotten dolled up in a cutesy mini dress like one you’d probably see in such a sappy flick!

But then again, Lilith and Eve sinned so that man could be born and kiss the way that he did. Deadline aside, getting one at anytime tonight would be the perfect assurance that you were truly entering a brand new era of your life.

So . . . It was probably understandable that you may have looked a little pouty to the sober-enough onlooker. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking a sip of the cocktail you'd been nursing in order to pacify yourself. By now, you were starting to realize a burning hum in your ears and cheeks as the alcohol began to seep into your blood.

You were beginning to contemplate giving in and venturing to the snack table for some garlic-dipped pita chips (you'd been staring longingly at them since you first arrived, only holding off because of the coveted Kiss), when –

There! Finally! You knew that jacket! It's hard not to, considering it was a glittery gold. It caught so much light that it was frankly a wonder how you hadn't found his gilded disco ball ass sooner. Especially given how . . . awkward his movements are. Uneven, always moving too far left, then too far right before barely uprighting and –

Oh. Oh no.

At one point, he stumbled to a wobbly stop, head cocking and eyes squinting before flying open wide.

A smile grew on Copia’s face as his arms flew up in front of him, hollering out a notably slurred, "There she iiiisssss! Amore mio, la mia vita, la mia mela – " He paused to make a singular yet violent hiccup. "Mela alla cannelaaaaa!!"

You met him halfway in his path towards you, worried that he might collapse on the marble floor if you didn't at least try to catch him. Copia wasn't an especially heavy person but in his drunken state, he seemed to disregard the courtesy of not foisting his entire self onto you. Instead, he was far too focused on hugging you close, mushing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Ahhh, topina. I -hic- missed you!" Your nose wrinkled as a waft of a powerful alcohol flowed down to your nose. You had a bit of a buzz going yourself but at least you had a cute little cocktail to thank for it. Judging by your burning olefactories, Copia was on some of the harder stuff.

"I – ugh – I missed you, too," you responded carefully. It was an awkward act to try and balance the remainder of your drink while also getting Copia to balance flat on his own two feet but you somehow managed. Call that a New Year’s Eve Miracle. "Geez, what happened to you?"

You may as well have told a corny little joke with how he giggled.

"Some Clergy members gave me some shots of rum from Ja -hic-maica! Coconuts!" You couldn't tell what he was laughing at now: The fun time he was having, or the look of horror on your face. Harder stuff indeed.

Now you had an important decision to make: Either you found a seat, prayed that he sat still long enough for you to build up a plate of fried and greasy foods for him to sober up on; or you played the part of the boring old partner and marched him to his chambers for an early evening (well, as early as 11:18pm could be considered).

You heard a sigh slither into the middle of your thoughts as Copia's arms wrapped around you once more, nudging you back into him. The threat of him putting his weight back on you was enough for you to come to a quick decision: Sober him up just enough to where he could take ten steps without the threat of collapse, then take him to bed. With how he was standing, there was just no way you were going to be able to make your way to the other side of the Great Hall, never mind the other side of the building.

You felt confident with your choice just by the journey to a free chair and table alone.

"Okay, oookay," you grunted as you tried to angle his rump into the seat. Copia let out a disappointed sound too young for someone of his age as you gently de-tangled yourself from his embrace. Inconveniences aside, you had to fight back the desire to coo at how adorable he was being. Copia was always affectionate with you, but it appeared that alcohol added a whole different layer to that.

"Don't worry, Caro " you softly assured. "I'm just going to get you a little something to nosh on, okay? I'll be right back. But only if you stay put, alright? If you leave – even if it's just to go find me – I won't be able to find you. So can you be a good boy and do that for me? Stay put?"

When you saw his expression collapse into a somber pout, you wondered if perhaps he found your tone patronizing. Judging by the sulky "fine" he uttered, however, it was apparent that he was more upset by the fact you couldn't be fused at the hip forever.

You could work with that. It wouldn't be long anyway. Even when you returned with a flimsy red paper plate covered in tortilla chips, a scoop of veggie lo mein, and two egg rolls, you could tell that the look of joy on his face was only meant for you. He would've disregarded the little spread entirely and latched himself back on you if you didn't take the time to place both it and a cup of water before him with the gentle instruction that he tuck in.

"Carefully," you were sure to add. A tipsy gait was bad enough; if he ate himself sick, you'd be even further out of your depth than you were already beginning to feel.

To your relief, he listened, proceeding to nibble on an egg roll's crunchy wrapping. Good. Now all you had to do was sit and wait for his system to clear up a bit. Your back and feet cried with relief as you plopped yourself down on the seat next to him – your first and only real mistake of the evening.

In hindsight, you would compare it to being like a living lava lamp. Maybe there was some science to it or whatever, but you were becoming increasingly unable to apply logic. All you knew was that the longer you sat, the warmer your face began to feel and the more bubbly your brain seemed to become. The flare of alcohol was rising inside of you like a hot river, flowing upwards, into your chest, into your cheeks, and into your brain. You could practically feel your sensibilities flickering like a lightbulb threatening to go out.

Crap. Curse that cute cocktail, it had betrayed you after all! Your eyes fluttered as though that would do literally anything for you besides make you look frazzled.

"Wha’s the matter, Schricchio?" Copia sounded only slightly less slurred, though the fact that he was able to pin your shift in demeanor after only an egg roll and a half stood as a good sign. All the more reason for you to remain firm and stand your ground against the liquid possession threatening to take over your senses.

Copia needed you to be the sober one here, even if he didn't really know it. You shook your head and nudged your cocktail further away from the both of you.

"Bad aftertaste is starting to hit," you claimed. A part of you mourned that you would have to abandon it so soon. The dull pain was slightly remedied when Copia wordlessly offered you a bite from the remainder of his fried treat. It was nice to know that there were some things about Copia that not even alcohol could change.

"Are you mad at me?"

He sounded quiet. The sounds of the party grew softer and softer as you both walked further from the Great Hall. On occasion, you'd pass a couple making out or a Sister of Sin drunkenly sobbing over her phone while her equally sloshed friends warned her against texting "him" back.

Otherwise, though, most of the Abbey's residents and attendees were either back where the action was happening, or making some action happen in their rooms. Which was where you, as a Sibling yourself, would probably be heading to once you got Copia situated in his own quarters. As sweet on you as he was, your relationship was still new; you didn't feel it was right to impose and spend the night without his permission.

And even if you had it, you'd have to second guess if it was a situation where anyone was being taken advantage of. He seemed slightly better than he did nearly half an hour ago, no longer launching himself on top of you in an unsuccessful effort to fuse. Even his balance seemed somewhat improved. However, the rum was clearly still in his system, making his cheeks and nose run red and his sensitivities run tender.

That was probably why he sounded so nervous and shy when he'd asked you his strange question.

You knew he couldn't see the confusion on your face, not when he was trailing behind you, but you nonetheless wore it. "No? Why would you think that?"

You probably weren't convincing, given that you barely turned to glance back at him, but you needed to keep your purposeful stride going. Evidently, Copia had a better handle of his alcohol than you did, seeing as the bit of egg roll you'd eaten did virtually nothing for you.

If you broke the intense concentration it was taking for you to avoid wobbling, your barely concealed cover would be blown – and you'd probably faceplant and force a buzzed old man to drag you off somewhere to hide your shame. He’d probably throw out his back and then you’d both enter the new year with wounded bodies and wounded pride.

Copia worried his bottom lip. "For getting silly. And for making us leave the party early."

You nearly scoffed with amusement. Did he really think that that would be all it took to upset you? The poor dear, so darling and worried even when on the brink of being absolutely sauced.

You sighed, the fruity smell of your cocktail fluttering back at you. "Issa New Year's party, Co: Everyone is drunk."

Including me, you thought with guilt. You winced as you realized a bit of slur was beginning to drip into your speech but carried on. "But I dun really care about everyone; I care about you. And a little while ago, I was worried our dear Frater was going to get himself hurt, y'know?"

"I know . . ." he mumbled. The hushed tone of his voice implied a guilt of his own, and it hurt your heart to hear him like that.

You knew good and well that Copia's onstage persona was more confident and bombastic than who he really was offstage. But to see him question or be uncertain about something still tugged a saddening chord inside you. And the alcohol no doubt made it worse . . .

Fuck it. Your conviction to maintain speed was tossed out the nearest window as you slowed your pace until you were right alongside your glittery guy.

"Hey." You entwined your fingers with his, flesh meeting warm leather. At fifty-something years-old, Copia wore the expression of a young child experiencing the wonder of their crush talking to them. Even in your fizzling state, you adored it and hoped you'd remember it forever.

"I mean it."

You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "I was worried about you, y'know?" The cocktail told you to lean in and burrow against his arm, and you found yourself obliging. The sequins of his coat weren't the most welcoming texture, but the fact that they were on him made them 100 times more bearable to you.

"I wan' take care of you . . . 'Cause you're mine." Welp. There went the goal of trying to bite back your slurring. But Copia didn't seem to mind. Far from it, if his response was anything to go by, in fact.

Returning the gentle squeeze, he sighed dreamily. "You're so nice . . ."

You lightly giggled either from the cocktail further encroaching your senses or from feeling your partner press a small kiss to your hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Frater."

You felt him nuzzle his nose against the spot a kiss had previously been place, then a flutter of a deep inhale and respective exhale. "'Smell nice, too . . ." You almost wanted to make a sarcastic comment about how sure, the residual smells of debauchery from the party definitely made for an intoxicating bouquet. But as his hand released yours, only to wander to your waist, you couldn't help but feel that might've actually been apt in this moment.

A gasp popped from your lips, followed by a light squeal of delight and ticklishness as he gave the tender flesh a teasing squeeze. Your reflexive wiggling only stopped when his other hand crept further up your back. As he drew your bodies closer, you couldn't help but notice how his personal heat felt . . . more intense. Even in the drafty halls of the old structure, Copia was more than enough to set your cheeks on fire.

Well, that, and the intoxication wafting from him.

The gleam of his left eye pierced through the darkness like the stare of a predator on prey. And even in the haze of euphoria, there was a steadiness in them that made sure to lock in on you and only you.

"You feel nice . . ." The low rumble of his voice made a shudder run through you.

Oh, yeah: That Jamaican rum was still there. And no amount of food or water was going to hold it back from taking control of your Copia. Like a devil lying in wait, it struck at the perfect time: A barely-lit corridor, no Siblings or Ghouls or Clergy patrolling, far enough away so that the sounds of the party were just barely above a loud whisper.

Even a more sober you wouldn't have stood a chance. Petrified with lust and intrigue, you were the perfect kill. The rough kiss he pressed to your lips came easily, and you could only welcome it with a heady moan.

The tastes of cocktails and hard rum mingled together between your tongues, overpowering any other taste including your own. In your increasingly buzzed state, you were beginning to understand why perhaps Copia bothered to drink more than one shot of rum: At least when coming from him, it tasted diabolically divine.

A soft whimper for more filled the space between your separated lips, then muffled and obliged when they wetly reunited once more.

Uncoordinated and stumbling footsteps echoed through the corridor as you felt Copia gently but insistingly ushering you backwards until your back found purchase against the wall of an alcove.

There was a stark juxtaposition in that moment, where the cold and uneven stone biting into your bare back urged you even closer against the burning, soft hold of your beloved. The contrast had a dizzying effect, and you weren't sure which temperature made your nipples pebble beneath your clothing more as you released a trembling sigh.

Your thighs twitched out of reflex but that was all the rum demon needed to secure yet another opportunity to take and take. A low, spicy, coconut-scented moan was coupled with gloved hands removing themselves from the curve of your waist and back before returning to your body – with one traveling upwards to your chest and its twin sloping downward to grip at the meat of your hip.

In the short time you'd been an official couple, Copia had made many things clear: That he was the sort to treasure the one he loved, and that he had a fondness for breasts of all shapes and sizes had been but a few of them. And given how he gently cupped yours, relishing in its weight and warmth against his palm, it was apparent that this held even through the haze of inebriation. Not even the ambitions of the rum could blind him to the want of cherishing your body.

If he'd only remained fondling you, you would have been plenty happy. Both parties were enjoying themselves as Copia's thumb glided back and forth over your nipple as though it had found a new toy to play with; and the bead itself seemed to crave his stimulation even through the material of your dress, bending to his touch and tickling your senses.

But with a hardening grip, you were reminded of where his other hand had gone. It pinned your hip as close to the wall as possible, not allowing for even the slightest wriggle away.

"Amore." A single word made uneven by laborious panting. But even then, you knew what he intended: He needed you to stay put, to not move an inch. All the easier for him to position his hips against yours.

Even though your dress made the contact somewhat awkward, Copia's reaction portrayed utter bliss. It was just enough for his hardening dick to become aware of even the slightest softness of your mound. That was all it took for his head to tilt back to release a sound that combined a whine of pleasure with a groan of hunger.

He gave the connection a tentative movement, pressing himself against a slot only the barrier of clothing prevented him from fully entering. The friction proved to be all he needed to give your warmth a few more, testing thrusts before giving way to more frequent, eager, and harder ones.

When his hardness finally found the tenderness of your awakening clit (as evidenced by the full-body jolt and hiccuped, "Oh!" you gave), he knew he'd finally found the angle he wanted.

In the nanoseconds between his hips pulling back and rushing forward, you found yourself just sober enough to remember something. You had never paid mind to because it appeared to just be rumors from ghouls and slander from the Ministry's former director.

But as Copia's hips began to dig into yours, accompanied by hot pants that fanned against your face, you had confirmation: The Frater, when just drunk enough, loved a good frottage.

You squeaked with warm delight as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, forcing your abdomens closer as your lower bodies began to meld together in one humping blur. He, of course, accepted the embrace, shakily endearing you as "Schricchina" as your cute little noises continued.

What probably had once housed something as insignificant as a potted plant was quickly becoming the world’s smallest shrine to lust. The liturgy came in the form of whimpers and moans, your prayers coming from slurred utterings of "please"s and "fuck"s and garbled Italian he had yet to teach you the meanings of.

When it wasn't being attacked with sloppy, tonguing kisses, your mouth hung open, puffing out small pants and tiny "oh"s. You didn't care how you must have looked as drool threatened to fall from your lips; all you cared about was getting Copia to nudge at your swelling clit again and again and again and so on until you grew tired. (Which, of course, would be never.)

The glittery sequins of his jacket bit into your fingers as they gripped against his back and shoulders, but you felt none of it. Nor did you feel the grit of the alcove wall against your back as Copia's feverish movements caused your body to rock against it.

If it wasn't the feel of his hands squeezing and playing with you; his mouth nipping and sucking and licking at whatever flesh he could reach; or the enthusiastic thrust of his dick searching for your wet warmth, then you weren't physically or mentally able to pay it any mind.

Copia himself didn't seem to know what to do with himself; caught in a stupor of his own desires, he wanted to do it all, taste it all, and feel it all. His forehead would press against the junction of your neck, only for him to raise almost immediately so that he could carve his teeth there before applying wet suckles there to salve the reddening spot. His hands would leave their positions, only to instantly regret it and miss the bounce of your breast and the twitching of your hips with every thrust he gave.

He was delirious in a concoction of his own drunkenness, lust, and greed, and he only wanted it more. Unfortunately, this current position, with how your dress lay over your thighs, wasn't going to cut it! A growl rumbled from deep within his heaving chest as he roughly gripped your thigh before hoisting it up to rest against his hip. Your body would have slipped from the position if not for his own thick thigh coming up to seat half your jiggling ass against.

The change in positioning was awkward only for the amount of time it took for him to assure you were situated into place. Otherwise? The blast of pleasure was immediate. With your thighs now properly spread, so, too, did your lips, causing your wetness an easier escape to be collected by your panties. Every thrust against them smeared your slick and created a sticky sound that only seemed to spur Copia on once he realized it lay beneath the rustling of your clothing and your collective noises.

Gritting his teeth did nothing to sharpen the oozing, rasping purrs of "Yes"s. The mantra almost sounded as though he were even thanking you; for what, you were in no headspace to determine. All you knew (or cared to know) was that the feelings were mutual.

"A-Amore," he managed to wantonly string together. "A-are you cl-close? You gonna cum with me?"

His voice had gone husky by now, but even the roughened edges couldn’t take away from how pleading he sounded. The effect it had on you was almost shameful as you could feel your walls clenching, grasping desperately for a dick that wasn’t even inside it yet. A moan, the loudest you’d uttered yet, burst forward from your awaiting lips.

"Yes, yes, yes! Please! Right there, Co, right there –!!" All you could do was murmur mindlessly, begging, pleading for him to just. Keep. Going. There! And ever the dutiful lover, your Frater was more than happy to oblige.

Through eyes fluttering through wave after wave of sensation, you could make out how your lover’s expression began to tighten. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth wore into his kiss-swollen lip. It was as though he were concentrating. And judging by the increase in tempo and form, he very well may have been.

Thrusts that had been straight forward until now began to curve and rotate, not at all unlike the effortless hip movements he would perform during his frontman days. The devilish thrusts that just watching footage of would send your pussy salivating and craving him. Feeling them on you, experiencing how direct they were, how thoroughly they hit all the sweet spots on such a small target –

You could've broken into sobs with how good the friction felt. How every streak of his cock left a trail of blissful fire lapping at your needy little clit. Your hips would trail after his own, desperately trying to mimic his movements and catch each rut his body applied to yours.

Your breaths pitched higher and higher as words melted into incoherent, single syllable sounds. If any more direction for what you needed to get off were required, you would have to fight to give them form. It was perhaps by sheer luck (or the interference of Asmodeus himself) that all Copia needed was to listen to your whimpers, your screeches that only vaguely resembled cries for more, and note how your hands struggled to commit to one place to know precisely what his good girl needed.

You'd long since stopped caring who all heard you – all that mattered was that you came, even if it was only on Copia's clothed cock. And you would have only been able to hear the sounds of your dry humping session, if not for the collective sounds of the Abbey raising in unison.

It rippled from back where the party was at, came from behind muffled doors, was cried out into the night from the rooftops outside:

"TWENTY . . . NINETEEN . . . EIGHTEEN . . . SEVENTEEN . . ."

The numbers were sharp and sobering. The countdown! The New Year!

"C-Copia," you gulped. You tried to reorient your grasp on the man but the continued rolling of his hips made doing so difficult. Your body continued to bounce, threatening your semblance of mind. Worse still, your body continued to gobble up every sensation and threatened to render you no better than a dumb animal once more.

"Copia, the countdown – " You could feel your thighs beginning to quiver, your stomach beginning to do that telltale clench. Your clit popped demandingly as your petals fluttered in their mess. Without thinking, your hand flew to the back of Copia’s head and snagged at the hair.

The shriek this man made! Not only that, but the hold he had on you: Your tugging had clearly registered to his poor brain that this was a demand – he had to go all out. N o w.

". . . ELEVEN . . . TEN! NINE!"

"C-Cara, amore mio, tesoro mio," he practically choked before his words dissolved into a puddle of Italian and English and a third language you couldn't place. The final time he regained any semblance of coherency, it was only to demand one thing:

"Cum."

It was not rugged in any sense. It was husky, rickety. Desperate. For you and only you.

The leg that had been hoisted instinctively curled around Copia’s tensing backside in an effort to pull him in close and keep him in place. His hips stilled in a frozen thrust, tiny quakes shaking between the both of you in the spot you connected most. A white-hot flood overtook his senses, robbing him of the ability to even utter of moan of completion.

But for you, you still experienced everything in one overwhelming blanket: Stars and fireworks unlike those you'd ever seen on New Years flooded your vision. The final rut of his cock striking against your tender nub was all you could feel shocking your entire body, tingling your fingers and toes to the point of numbness. All you could smell was Copia's cologne mingling with the perfume you'd no doubt mostly sweat away. All you could taste was, yet again, the addicting taste you and Copia had created, as his tongue once again swirled into your mouth with an animalistic groan.

And all you heard was a cluttered chorus:

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

The whistling and booming of fireworks roared into the night as distant sounds of cheers and party horns and pots banging pans went off.

They weren't even the first thing you noticed as the waves of your orgasm began to ebb. In fact, even as the familiar sounds and smells of the new year began to wisp into the hallway from windows and passageways alike, all that filled your senses was . . . Copia.

The feel of his warm body slouching against yours, the impact of his orgasm rattling him weary. It was welcoming compared to the sloshed mess he’d been earlier; he hovered as much as himself above you as possible, as though putting his full weight on you in such a state might break you. You noted how his aftershocks caused his hips to reflexively twitch, as though even while overstimulated, his cock still longed to be with you. He grunted softly, quietly every time. The cute little noises and reactions tickled your own sensitive arousal, making your aftershocks vibrate your shivering thighs.

Perhaps egg rolls and party foods weren't what was necessary to sober either party up; perhaps a good old orgasm was exactly what you both needed.

The unfortunate cost, however, was that you now realized the position you both were in. Thank Satan nobody had been in the hallway at any given time. Otherwise, they would've been treated to the image of their dear old Frater Imperator madly humping away in an alcove, cumming at the stroke of midnight, then separating from a fierce tonguing while leaving a strand of spit between both his lips and the lips of his lover.

. . . Wait.

You gulped down some air, trying to even out your still heaving breast. You'd gotten your New Year's Kiss! Sure, it wasn’t the cute, romantic Hallmark movie-style you’d always imagined. But clearly your imagination sucked because this was legions better than anything you could have ever concocted! The absurdity of it all managed to make it through the still evaporating fuzz of your mind. You couldn't help but giggle breathlessly, causing your tired old man to look at you nervously.

"W-what? Is – Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his sobering up giving way to nerves and insecurity.

You tried to catch your breath to form the right words, but Copia couldn't help but babble on even through burning lungs.

"I'm so sorry! I – I was being stupid and horny and – "

"H-happy," you paused to gulp, "new year. Amore mio."

You inhaled just enough to soothe your lungs before leaning in for a kiss. It had much less tongue than most of the ones you'd shared this evening, but it was filled with passion regardless.

You didn't see how his eyes widened with shock, given that your own drooped shut, but you could feel how he quickly got over it just in time to return it. He even trailed after your lips as they separated. You would have gladly met him halfway once more, but you really needed to breathe. Even if the once crisp air had since turned hot and stinking of alcohol and sweat. And faintly of slick.

. . . Y’all really needed to get out of this nook.

You grunted lightly as you moved your thigh down from its perch over Copia's own. While the position had been blissful in the moment, you knew you were probably going to need to sleep on a heating pad tonight. But even before that . . . you were going to need a shower. The slick in your panties was cooling fast in the chilly January air, creating an uncomfortable feeling that squished against your thighs with every movement. Really, a bath was more preferable for such a mess but the communal bathrooms offered no such option.

You winced as you realized how wobbly you now stood even with the wall of the alcove supporting you from falling backwards. That shower was going to be difficult . . .

"U-uh." Your eyes flew up to a now sheepish-looking Copia. The redness on his face and ears no longer came from the rum demon possessing him, but clearly from that cute, almost schoolboyish nature he tended to have whenever it concerned you.

". . . Yes?"

"W-well. If it's okay with you, I – The Imperator Suite!" He paused, realizing he'd probably been a bit too loud. "I mean. The Imperator Suite: It – there is a bathtub. It’s really nice. Gets the best water and. And seeing as we both –  Er, I made us both a mess, I think it's only fair if . . . If –  And only if you're okay with it – If you'd like to maybe clean up . . . with . . . me? And then we can relax and cuddle and . . . "

His voice trailed. He cringed. Eyes screwing shut and all. As though he hadn't just dry humped the bejesus out of you in a hallway where you could've easily been caught.

Damn this adorable man.

You hummed adoringly as you placed a hand to his warm cheek, prompting him to look at your post-orgasmic haze.

"I would really like that, Frater," you assured.

You could have collapsed right then and there was his gloved hand overtook your own in a loving hold before bringing it to his lips for its own kiss.

No, really. You absolutely could have: The final wisps of sexual adrenaline had begun to give dissipate, leaving the full aches and pains of grinding at such an awkward angle (and with your back pressed against a stone wall, no less) to truly kick in. Copia, too, for all that limber hip action was worth, began to feel a dull soreness heat up in the bones.

It was going to be a long trek to the Imperator Suite, you both realized.

But between the hisses of discomfort from wet undergarments, the quiet "ouch"s, and assurances of how he had a stash of Tylenol back in his nightstand drawer, you were still glad for the experience.

Hand in hand, you weren't hobbling into the new year alone.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Dietary Restrictions

Thank you to @thepenultimateword for giving me the prompt!

Caretaker climbed the staircase and rounded the corner to Whumpee’s room. They knocked on the door gently. When no answer came, they knocked again. Still no answer.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker asked, knocking a third time, “are you okay?”

Caretaker opened the door, stepping inside the bedroom. The curtains were drawn shut, as always, and there was a lump in the otherwise freshly made bed.

“Hey,” Caretaker said, approaching the lump, “Whumpee?”

They pulled the covers back and held in a gasp. Whumpee’s breathing was labored, and their face flushed. Their eyes were screwed shut and their great bat wings were furled in on themselves.

“Whumpee, what happened?” Caretaker whispered.

Caretaker shook them by their shoulder, trying to be gentle. Whumpee opened their glassy eyes and stared up into Caretaker’s. It was a pitiful sight.

“Whumpee?”

“I’m fine,” Whumpee lied.

“Not buying it. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” they whimpered.

“Come on, think, did anything weird happen last night? Anything out of the ordinary? Did you go out in the sun? Did you eat something you weren’t supposed to?”

“All I did was feed from you last night,” Whumpee said, curling in on themselves even further.

Caretaker’s brow furrowed… they remembered letting Whumpee feed, but that shouldn’t… oh no. Stupid, stupid!

“I am so sorry,” Caretaker realized, “this is all my fault.”

“How is it your fault?”

“I had garlic breadsticks at work yesterday. Someone brought in a bunch of homemade Italian food. I must have had at least five breadsticks… oh my gosh, oh my gosh-”

“S’cool, I thought you tasted funny,” Whumpee mumbled, “I’m not gonna die or anything, just, ow…”

“Whumpee I am so so sorry,” Caretaker said, “what will fix this? Should I take you to a doctor?”

“Say that last part again slowly.”

Right. Human doctors wouldn’t be much help for a vampire. Caretaker cursed themselves under their breath. They had done this, but how could they fix it?

“Would feeding again help? Maybe it would purge the bad blood?” Caretaker offered.

“Not hungry,” Whumpee said feebly.

Caretaker rolled up their sleeve, exposing their forearm.

“Come on, just one little sip? Please? For me?”

Whumpee stared up at Caretaker with what could only be described as vampiric puppy dog eyes. For once, Caretaker wasn’t fazed at all. Whumpee sighed and acquiesced, taking a small bite and beginning to drink. Their face started to return to its usual pallor, and their eyes cleared up just a little bit.

“Thank you,” Whumpee said, detaching their fangs from Caretaker’s arm.

“You’re welcome,” they said, “I really am sorry.”

“I need to bandage that arm now,” Whumpee said, trying to sit up.

“Yeah, absolutely not,” Caretaker said, pushing Whumpee back down.

They were concerned how easy it was to do, usually Whumpee’s strength rivaled that of ten bodybuilders.

“But your arm-”

“I’ll take care of it, just rest.”

Whumpee nodded, pouting a little, then burrowed further under the covers. Caretaker left the room and started to pace back and forth in the hallway. How could they have let this happen?

“Caretaker,” Whumpee called weakly, “I can hear you pacing, could you maybe hold off on the guilty spiral so I can sleep? I’m not mad at you!”

Caretaker chuckled sadly, then went to their room to get some rest as well.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Since we’re all on the topic of James Lewis….. I was wondering if I could make a different request for him like maybe something smutty but James being a total sub ( I beg of u pls) just being pathetic and needy 🫡

When One Restaurant Door Closes - James Lewis/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, reader is a bit of a dom, self-deprecating talk, dirty talk, bit of voyeurism, masturbation, handjobs, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, eating out, sex.

Wordcount: 4640

Summary: Your handsome regular just failed his 10th date since he started visiting your place of work. That should be all the proof you need to agree with him when he then claims that he's unlovable, but there's something about him that makes you want to be his 11th despite it all.

Notes: Did someone say Pathetic Needy Sub? 😏 I hope this turned out close to what you wanted, I think this is the first time I wrote any of his characters as super subby and it nearly made me lose my mind /)w(\ 💗💗💗

Friday night shifts had a tendency to either yield good entertainment or bad guests and even worse tips. It was a 50/50 split for you since this place wasn't exactly Olive Garden, all the good guests preferring the big name chains and restaurants with five stars, of which you worked for neither. It was good money regardless, and the entertainment was worth its weight in gold since it seemed everyone wanted to air out their drama over the appetizers, and you'd prefer that to any unlimited breadsticks any day.

You knew it was going to be a good night when you saw him walk in, the handsome man with the glasses who brought all his dates here for you to witness, each one always ending in flames; it wasn't his fault, from your eavesdropping you'd learned that he was a recovering alcoholic with a bit of a temper, and even though being off the juice had given him back his control it didn't help that he tended to constantly say the wrong thing. He overshared more than anyone you'd ever met, his jokes were cute and funny but also tended to be self-deprecating, and when he got on a topic he was passionate about, sometimes for all the wrong reasons, he found it very hard to stop talking even when his dates looked uncomfortable. He was a trainwreck, but a beautiful one, and every time he came in with someone new it made you selfishly happy that he was still on the market.

These people he brought out, they didn't know how to handle someone like him, but you were sure that you could, your practice with your old bad partners giving you more than enough experience. He wasn't a bad guy, far from it, and you knew that now that he was recovering he'd never hurt you, but no one else seemed to get that or him as tonight's contestant, a pretty cute blonde with his long hair pulled into a ponytail to be a little fancy for the date, finally tossed in the towel and walked out. You watched as he hid his face in his hands, another one down, it was clear he couldn't keep handling the heartbreak for much longer.

‘Rough crowd tonight?’ you asked before you could stop yourself, your voice carrying from the bar to his table since his chosen section of the restaurant was emptier for the privacy of his date.

He looked up at you, eyes miserable as he briefly glanced behind you at the bottles decorating the wall. ‘Yeah, you could say that,’ he answered instead of asking for his favourite, and you felt a bit of pride at him pulling through despite the metaphorical flames currently surrounding him and the empty chair across from him.

‘At least he seemed to take it better than the one from last month, that one was a little firecracker, wasn't he?’ you joked in order to lighten the mood, and he grinned sadly at the memory of that failed date as well.

‘He didn't appreciate my comments about Detroit, I was only being a little critical,’ he confessed, and you leaned your elbows against the bar counter.

‘What did it this time?’

‘Too different views about family,’ he told you, and when you didn't hide your curiosity he turned even further in his chair to face you. ‘I guess growing up in a house like mine doesn't leave you much room for wanting to meet someone's parents… or sister, or hometown, or anything else. He wasn't raised like I was but you never know, one bad day and a little too much to drink and it all goes to hell.’ There was the oversharing again, his bad childhood a recurring topic for him, although this time he seemed to have a bit of clarity now that the date had already failed. ‘Sorry, I know not everyone wants to hear about that.’

‘It's fine, I've heard worse working here.’ He perked up at that, someone not flinching or cringing at his trauma for once actually lifting his mood. ‘In fact, why don't you move your plate over here, share a drink with me over it until you're all done?’

‘I don't drink,’ he was in the middle of saying before you filled up two glasses with water, his thoughts only on himself and not the obvious fact that you couldn't consume the inventory while on the clock. He smiled in relief and took your offer when you pushed his glass a little towards him, your entertainment for tonight now purely him as he set down his plate and started venting with a smile.

He didn't leave when he was done, eventually ordering a nonalcoholic beverage just so you'd have something to mix while you listened, and you noticed when you left him to bus some tables or run some orders that he never once looked back at the bottles in your absence. He stuck to sipping his drink or watching the TV mounted over the bar, and when you returned again he'd give you the biggest smile and start talking about something else no matter how personal. 

You found out this way that his name was James and that he used to be a teacher in another town, but he'd lost his tenure right before earning it and was unfairly fired after a bunch of unfortunate mishaps involving two of his students being bullied. He'd basically been bullied himself right out of town, the father of another of his students making sure he wouldn't be welcome after he'd tried to take matters into his own hands, and while the bullying had ended so had his career despite his good deeds.

It was a rather miserable end to that chapter of his life, but he'd needed a fresh start anyway, and moving here had been exactly what he'd needed in the end. He'd even gotten himself a new job a couple months in, and while he was doing great in that regard, it was finding himself a new partner that was giving him trouble still. 

‘Ever since the divorce I've been thinking that maybe I'm just not cut out for this, like she was my one chance and I blew it,’ he admitted as you mixed him another sweet drink, a plate of fries ordered and slowly nibbled away at thanks to the both of you. ‘I've been trying, first Arabella back home and then all these people here- you've seen them, you're always working when I bring my dates, it seems, and… I don't know, maybe I'm just unlovable.’ You weren't sure if he was leading you on just to boost his self-esteem or if he genuinely believed it, although you were starting to trust in the latter with his depressive record, and even if he was manipulating you to high hell you thought his attempt was cute after you'd just seen him crash and burn for the tenth time.

‘I think you just need to pick your dates better before you start down that road; tell you what, how about you meet me back here tomorrow, I get off early, and we can go to dinner somewhere I don't work?’ you suggested, and to your surprise he didn't flush and maybe decline a time or two as he actually met your eye and suggested something you didn't expect.

‘I'm free tonight, tomorrow is Saturday after all,’ was all he said, and you couldn't argue with that as you called it a date and went on with your shift.

True to his word he stuck around the entire time, just watching TV or sipping his drink, no phone coming out to help distract him as you finished your final hours. He didn't complain or even yawn, perhaps he was used to being up late with grading homework and all those other time-consuming teachery demands, so this was nothing to him, or maybe he was just that excited to hang out with you some more considering you hadn't thrown him away yet. Either way, when you finally clocked out he was ready to go, his back straight and smile nervous but wide as he followed you to the parking lot. After a quick discussion of him taking his own car after you, you led the way back to your apartment and brought him up without a care. You could hear his breathing quicken when you approached your door, your keys jangling together as you turned the correct one in the lock, and when you both stepped inside and you reached for the lights he actually stopped you.

‘Don't, I'm sorry, I should've been more clear,’ he began as he let you go, and you expected him to box you in, start kissing you with all the pent up desires of a man who probably hadn't been laid in years if your theories were correct, but he just surprised you again when he dropped to his knees and let his hands hover over your thighs without making contact. ‘Please, it's been so long, you're the only one who hasn't-’

He came to his senses then, realized he was a grown man on his knees in front of a perfect stranger, and he couldn't see in the dark how red your face had become, how wide and very interested your eyes now were as you stared down at him.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, all the sparkling water must've gone to my head,’ he tried to joke, desperately backtracking as his hands lowered and he made to stand. ‘You didn't bring me here for this, I should go-’

You didn't let him, your hand threading through his hair before you easily guided him to your crotch; he moaned at the warmth behind your pants, his mouth pressing open kisses to the material as he instantly folded, and even in the dim light of your hallway you could still see that his glasses were starting to fog when he looked up at you. ‘Be a gentleman and take off your shoes, I just vacuumed this afternoon,’ you tested him, and he didn't even get up as he took them off and went back to kneeling. ‘It's been a long day, if you really want to apologize to me then you can make it up to me in the living room,’ you suggested quietly, and he nodded before standing again, only this time when he towered over you you felt entirely in control, James only proving that as he walked further into your home and waited for you on the couch. 

You smiled at him, impressed because, despite his stories about going behind his boss' back and taking matters into his own hands in his old town, he was very good at following orders, or maybe he just was good at doing what he wanted to be told to do as he looked back to find you. You didn't keep him waiting, your things put away for the night before grabbing the seat next to him, and even though he looked like he wanted to touch you so badly that it was making him hurt, he still waited for you to give him his next order, tell him how to make it up. 

‘You looked good before, between my thighs like that, why don't you let me see it again in this better lighting while I think up a way for you to apologize to me.’ He did just so, no questions asked, the apartment quiet save for his loud breathing as you spread your legs and let him get comfortable. You both knew where this was heading, the way he licked his lips and sat ever so patiently for you only made your heart race more as you held his entire sex life in your hand. Depending on what your next move was you'd either be the first to touch him in what had to be a year and a half, or send him home with the very real end result of him getting himself off while imagining you.

Now there was an idea.

‘How much do you want it?’ you asked him then, his cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment like you didn't already know the answer. 

‘I need it, you don't know how hard it's been…’

‘When was the last time?’

He swallowed, looking away from you. ‘Back when I was still married, so over two years ago,’ he admitted, and you ran your fingers through his hair again as consolation. 

‘No hookups in all this time?’ He shook his head, leaning into your touch as he all but admitted that it was the first in years, and when you scraped your nails against his scalp and gave him a little tug he let out such a surprising sound it could only be pure, genuine want. ‘You waited so long for me, so good, you've done so well, James,’ you purred, encouraging him to tell you more, want you more, and it worked as he shifted even closer, rested his cheek against your thigh and kissed you again.

‘Thank you, I want it from you, you're the only one who sees me,’ he sighed against your leg, his hands coming up to hold and rub you as well, like if he tried hard enough you'd finally take pity on him and give him what he wanted, but you wanted him to earn it, you needed him to be yours.

‘You can have it, if you show me how much you want it, first,’ you told him, your voice just above a whisper, and when he looked up at you you could've sworn you felt his Adam's apple bob against your clothed skin he swallowed so hard. 

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked, his voice also low, this wasn't how a recently re-respected teacher should act, and you sat back and gazed down at him while you undid your pants to give yourself a little more room to breathe with how heavy the air was getting.

‘Touch yourself.’

You knew he was yours the moment the words left your mouth and he didn't run, too blinded by his lust to do anything other than oblige your every whim it seemed as he reached for his belt out of sight. You heard the sound of his zipper just moments before he let out a sigh, his eyes closing tight as he started off slow, getting used to the idea that you actually wanted him here doing this before speeding up a little. You could only see the way his arm moved from this angle, everything else hidden from your sight, and you resisted the urge to lean forward because he was the one who was listening tonight, if he wanted you then he was going to do everything until he could have you.

‘Sit back, I can't see,’ you breathed, James cracking open an eye before letting go of you to lean backwards, and when that still didn't help he stopped for just a moment to move to your ottoman. His legs were equally spread as he reached back down his pants, too shy to take himself out as he went back to stroking himself for you, showing you exactly what he'd been doing the past two years without anyone else to touch him. He didn't hide any sounds from you, and you had to wonder if he was actually playing it up as he rested his chin against his chest and arched his back, his hand moving a little faster still out of your sight. It was good but it wasn't what you wanted, and you waited until his head lolled to the side before letting out a short whistle to get his attention. You patted your lap without a word, inviting him over, and when he straddled you he never once removed his hand, it still moving as he closed the distance between furniture.

‘Do you want me?’ you asked as he stroked himself a little faster, just being this close to you driving him wild. 

‘Yes…’ He moaned it into your ear, hunched over and letting his forehead fall against your shoulder; his hips began to move as he fucked his fist, you knew this wasn't enough, and you didn't ask permission before reaching down and sliding his neatly pressed pants down his hips. He choked out a gasp as he finally took himself out, his hand moving properly and so much better over his length, and you looked down and watched as your own need built. You could tell he was getting close by the way his panting was starting to break, he could barely keep it up and it showed in his movements, and when you kissed his neck and took him in hand he thanked you repeatedly before spilling over you. You rode him through it, draining him of every last drop as his reward, and when he sat up you saw that he'd actually cried as he came. 

‘So good, you were so good for me,’ you praised him, your hand still moving over him gently even as he whined from the overstimulation, ‘but we're not done yet, you still haven't apologized to me.’ You expected him to ask you for a moment to catch his breath, maybe even decline now that he'd gotten what he wanted, but he wasted no time in sliding off of you and getting ready to kneel again. Your hand on his tie made him stop, his eyes confused before you guided him back to the couch and got him to lay down, his chest heaving and dick hardening again over his stomach as you crawled up and over him. 

Your knees hit the arm of the couch as you braced yourself on the back, James breathing heavily before taking off his glasses, lining you up, and kissing you much more intimately this time. You rode his mouth, letting him eat you out as you touched yourself, his hands on your hips to help you keep your balance as you rolled them. Even out of practice he was good, telling you that despite being needy for your touch he was more a giver than a receiver, and he confirmed it when you bit back a moan and felt his hand leave you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him jerking off so slowly it was obviously just to get himself fully hard again, or maybe he just liked the sounds of you using him to get off that much, either way you grinned and moaned again a little louder, just for him. He hummed against you, his eager tongue licking and probing and fucking into you until you felt your orgasm start to build, but when you went to get up so you could come in a much better way he actually let go of himself to hold you in place. ‘No…’ he murmured against you, needing to finish you off like this is what he wanted more than what you were planning, and you reached between your legs to grab him by the hair and pull him off.

‘Bad boy, don't get greedy,’ you warned him, your words making him squirm as he stared up at you from between your quivering thighs. ‘And here I thought you wanted me.’

‘I do, please, please don't stop,’ he begged, his hands finding purchase on you again as you felt him start to find pressure against his pants. 

‘I won't,’ you promised as you let go of him, easily moving his hands away before crawling down to his waist; you sat on his thighs and trapped his dick under you as you undressed him, wanting to see more of him but also wanting him to feel more of you at the same time. He tried to help, loosening his tie and taking it off before you grabbed it and slipped his hands through the hole, the knot holding firm against his wrists as he keened at the sight. He knew not to touch as you finished undoing every button, your hips occasionally swaying as you worked and making him groan as he resisted the urge to grind against you.

It was torture of the best kind to draw it out, your orgasm backed off as you bared his chest and started kissing everywhere you could reach just to hear more of those sounds, your teeth gently biting a nipple before his hands were clasped behind your neck. ‘I'm sorry, just a little more-’ he begged again, you were unaware of how close he'd become thanks to your teasing, and you lifted yourself to your hands and knees to ward it off again now that you knew; this time he whimpered at the loss, his dick twitching pitifully against his stomach as he steadily leaked precome onto himself, it all too much for him after such a long time. 

‘Show me how much you want it,’ you panted against his neck, James not knowing what to do until you lowered yourself onto him at long last, his head falling back with a broken whine. ‘Fuck me until I come, don't you dare stop until then.’

His hands remained behind your neck as he began to thrust, your left hand gripping the couch while the other splayed across his chest. You tried not to ride him, wanting him to do all the work and prove to you that he wanted you so desperately that he'd keep doing it until you were satisfied, but eventually you did give in, your hips crashing down on him as you met each thrust with equal desire. You doing that didn't let him last long, James coming inside you as he threw back his head and swore a string of curses about how good it felt, but even as he rested you didn't let him stop, the heat in your belly growing hotter as he looked up at you and licked his lips.

He needed only a moment while you bounced on his still hard cock, his libido holding strong as he pulled you to his chest, braced himself on the couch and floor, and fully fucked you in earnest. There it was, his desire, his greed, his lust as he pleaded into your shoulder for just one more, he needed this so badly that he couldn't take it, everything becoming almost addicting to you as you gave him everything he wanted. 

Eventually his pleas turned into an endless string of fucks, no other word left in his English teacher vocabulary as he dug his nails into your back in a desperate attempt to hold on, and when even that word became senseless babbling you finally came. You squeezed hard around him, bringing out his third shortly after as his energy gave out and made him collapse, one final, very hard thrust into you as you fell on top of him making your resulting cry out just as senseless as the words died in your throat. 

You could feel his come leaking down your thighs as you laid on top of him, the both of you taking all the time you needed to catch your breath, the afterglow of what was probably the best orgasm you'd had in years still lingering with each small shift until you decided it was time to get up. ‘No, don't,’ he was quick to say, his eyes half-lidded as he turned his head to look at you, ‘stay with me, please.’

Again you couldn't argue with that, getting comfortable against the back cushions so you wouldn't fall off, James still inside you as you found his glasses before they disappeared into the couch forever. ‘Sorry for getting a little rough, I don't know what got into me,’ you apologized as you pet his hair again, careful to massage the places you thought you'd hurt him, and he grinned as he stared blurrily up at the ceiling fan.

‘Probably the same thing that got into me,’ he agreed lightly, and when you both laughed you bounced slightly on his chest. ‘Thank you, for tonight. I know I'm not the most eligible bachelor in town, but… I'd like to see you again, if that's alright with you? Not just to… y'know, hookup or anything, despite all the failures I really am trying to meet someone.’

‘I know, no one would try that hard if they were just looking to get laid,’ you said as you attempted to stretch without letting him slide out of you. ‘But, I gotta know, why haven't you been able to land anyone yet? You've got your flaws, everyone in this town does, but somehow you seem to have all the bad luck when it comes to romance and I honestly don't get it.’

‘Well, to tell you the truth-’ He cut himself off, looking now towards the wall as he turned his head away from you.

‘Oh no, you can't start with that and then not finish,’ you teased him curiously, rolling your hips just long enough to get him to beg you to stop with a weak moan, a very real threat that he could very well go again.

‘To tell you the truth, I haven't been all that interested in my current dates,’ he confessed, your eyes shining with an even stronger curiosity since it always seemed like he was interested when he brought them in. ‘I actually… just wanted to go there because… that's where you work.’ Again he surprised you, your heart skipping a beat as he held you a little tighter. ‘I've liked you since the first time I walked in and saw you, but I've never been good at asking anyone out; I was only able to find those dates through co-workers and their friends, they all put in good words for me, I never did any of the actual asking. I guess that’s why they all failed, I might’ve been subconsciously sabotaging myself because they weren’t you.’

He looked embarrassed as he told you all of this, like you would reject him for having a crush on you despite the mindblowing sex, and you just chuckled and kissed his jaw until he finally looked at you. ‘I guess you did wait til I invited you back here, didn't you?’ you realized then, and when he looked hopeful you gave him a proper kiss; he sighed into your mouth before he remembered where his own had been, his eyes wide in the scandal of it all, but you just laughed and tried again until he had no choice but to kiss you back. ‘Has anyone told you recently how handsome you are? Because to tell you the truth I've been happy to see you every time you walk in,’ you confessed right back, his smile wide as you trailed your fingers from his cheek down to his chest. He shook his head, none of his dates liking him even that much, which you felt was an honest to God crime; oh well, their loss, he was yours now. ‘I have tomorrow off until noon, if you still wanna go out again for dinner tomorrow?’

‘Can I stay the night in the meantime?’ he asked softly, and you kissed him again before finally moving to stand, his still-bound hands raising up to allow you to this time.

‘Of course, the bed has more room to stretch out on, if you don't mind the risk of me cuddling you in the night?’ you warned, but something told you that that was exactly what he wanted as you both stood on shaky legs and made the long trek to your bedroom, his hand clasped in yours.

[qiutls]

TNGDH 013

"It's obesity, Your Highness."

'What?'

"What?" Oh, I thought I was finally able to talk, but it was Kyle's voice.

The doctor who noticed the anger in the Grand Duke's voice trembled slightly.

"W-well, that, Your Highness' pet hamster, ah- I mean magical beast has no appetite and is inactive, so I thought that m-maybe..."

It was a breathtaking honorific, I'm the only one in this world to be treated this way, by the one and only veterinarian here.

Indeed, since this hamster is cherished by the Grand Duke, one can't carelessly say brash words like 'this rat' in front of His Highness, for fear of losing their voice.

It's absurd, but what can I do? They must be aggrieved to be born into a world where their status is less than a different species.

"It is a little difficult to determine if it has a disease because no trauma nor abnormal symptoms have been found. There was also no pain when I pressed its stomach. It's just when I pressed it carefully-"

"When you pressed it?"

Kyle urged him to speak with a serious look. The veterinarian shivered and continued as if he had been threatened with murder.

"..... It was j-just belly fat!"

I must've gained weight.

I slumped back down and looked at the two humans who were staring at me alternately. Why? What are you looking at? Is this your first time seeing a fat hamster? It's probably your first time, look at you two, you practically can't take your eyes off of me.

Of course, I knew why I gained weight. I ate too much during the morning. The food here in the North is pretty good, no scratch that, human food is just delicious compared to dried pollack. It's worth living as a human even if I was fed rice paste every day.

[ (^(00)^) ]

'... Did I eat that much?'

This morning Sen introduced me to the work at the kitchen. The servants were supposed to make fried sandwiches to distribute them to the refugees, but they were afraid of splashing oil, so I decided to help them out.

Who am I? I'm none other than the self-righteous man who worked at a fast-food franchise in Gangnam for four years, to earn tuition for college.

My amazing frying skills can fry any dish, you name it!

While frying, I took a bite of a sandwich to avoid the eyes of the people staring at me. Then I also took a bite of twisted breadstick, another bite of a sandwich, another bite of breadstick. One bite of donut, a bite of fried meat..... I had 10 bites. How many times did I repeat those 10 bites again?

Anyway, I ate my fill for 30 minutes. Kyle doesn't even give me fried eggs that hamsters can eat, why should I miss out on my only chance to eat high calorie foods.

I felt like a resident employee doing "bad things" prohibited to the newcomers, it felt good. Thanks to this skill, I have a chance to eat rice balls again. As expected, even if you roll in dog poop field, living is still better than dying, well living as a human, I mean.

When I left the kitchen patting my stomach, I heard the servants say how the food that came out of the kitchen seemed to be less than they thought. Ah! I don't care, I put an iron plate on my face and said I don't know why that happened. It seems like it was so cold in the North, that my face thickened.

Well, that's basically a summary of what happened in the morning.

"But Cashew Nut hasn't eaten since this morning!"

Kyle said panicking.

Of course, I didn't. If you were me and you just ate a box of fried food, would you still be blinded to eat nuts all day? You eat it.

But this morning, I didn't just stuff my stomach, okay? In order to prevent the chandelier incident, I tried to tell some servants and attendants to inspect the central chandelier at the banquet hall.

The problem was that my identity was ambiguous, and although my words were convincing, why would they believe someone who's unfamiliar and kept bothering them to check the chandelier.

The last servant I talked to just gave me a basket full of bread and said, "Don't insult the castle that is providing for you, just fry the food properly, so you don't get in trouble."

Anyway, after eating so much in the morning, Kyle was probably worried seeing me sleep all throughout the day and just waking up in the afternoon. So, he explained to the doctor, how I had no appetite and no energy.

"Look again, are you sure you didn't miss anything when checking its stomach?"

The veterinarian touched my stomach again out of courtesy and pressed down, his voice shook as he said.

"It's really just fat..."

Silence filled the room.

All right, take your hands off of me, you're trembling so much you even shook my whole body.

"I see..."

Kyle spoke in an unconvinced tone. I slipped away from the doctor's palm and went to hug his (Kyle's) elbow.

Take it easy, okay? If the vet said I gained weight, then I gained it. Will a hamster die just because he's fat? I'll even eat a nut or two during dinner, alright?

Kyle stroked by back with his fingertips perhaps because my silent consolation was too strong.

"..... How can you be obese when you're so cute."

Ah, this is shocking. It seems like there's no logic left in the North.

The vet seemed to think the same thing as I did, but he just kept quiet and bowed his head. That's right, there's only one life and we should cherish it.

"It seems like you need more care from now on."

"Yes, Your Highness, periodic care is very important. You should let it exercise as much as possible and avoid giving it a fatty diet. It would be helpful to feed it boiled vegetables. And don't worry too much, isn't the magical beast, still in its growing period?"

I'm sorry to say this, but my growth period ended 10 years ago...

"Probably after the growth period, the problem will be solved little by little as the body grows. So don't worry too much, Your Highness."

"Alright."

"Are bodies of magical beasts usually this big?"

"No, it's larger."

"Then, Your Highness, you may need to change things like the wheel, the size of the room, maybe even the house itself."

Kyle replied without hesitation.

"I can change it a hundred times if needed."

It's a tearful love for a hamster. Why are you spending so much money and love on me.

"By the way, you said periodic care."

Kyle pondered for a moment and said,

"I think your skills are good, and since this magical beast will continue to grow, why don't you settle here in the North."

"Here, in the North..."

The veterinarian seemed to have doubted his ears.

It's normal, of course. From the moment he checked on me, Kyle has worn a serious look, he probably can't understand why Kyle wants him to stay.

But maybe it's not a bad suggestion seeing as his face is slightly flushed. Is this guy in the original novel?

[ Veterinarian. Approximately 15 days until the estimated time fo death. ]

Death again? 

'Tell me how he's supposed to die.'

[ Belial's mother, the current empress, Serena Minehardt's old cat fell ill, and this veterinarian wasn't able to treat it, so he was executed immediately after the cat's death. ]

This reason... Is too absurd...

Is a veterinarian a god?

Isn't it common for pets to die of old age? You're killing a man because he couldn't make your cat immortal? She's an empress with no brain ah.

It seems like he used to work in the palace and realized the cat's situation and ran here to the North by joining the procession in disguise of taking care of horses.

If he had a reason to settle down in the North, it would be a great opportunity to save his life. While Kyle was busy paying, the vet's face was turning brighter and brighter.

"Don't worry about money, I'll pay you for treating him."

Money doesn't matter! Promise him you won't kill him even if this hamster dies, you tactless creature!

"Is there anything else you want? I'll negotiate with His Majesty (Belial) if you still have any concerns."

The veterinarian seemed to wonder whether it's better to stay with the royal family or here. Although they seemed like they would both do the same thing, an obese hamster's life expectancy seems to be longer than an old cat's.

"No! I'm honored to stay and be at your service, Your Highness."

There you go!

I went to the edge of Kyle's hand and patted the doctor's arm as a compliment. You made the right decision. This is the way to lengthen your life. 

[ The person who was fated to die is no longer in danger. ]

[ Miracle value has risen! ]

[ Current miracle value is 11.0% ]

Wow, it went up 3% in an instant. Saving people's live is indeed the right way.

My eyes brightened at the realization, if saving a no name character gives 3%, then how much more would I get if I save Kyle!

Add a zero next to the 3 next time, System. Write it big when the time comes.

[ The duration of "Summon" has been increased to 1 hour. ]

The skill which originally lasted for 30 minutes only has been increased twice. It's probably due to the miracle value exceeding 10%.

Alright! I'll get up earlier and eat 30 more fried- ah..... No let's stop eating that. At this rate, I might really forget how to walk.

The hamster's body was too honest. You gain as much weight as you eat. It's fortunate that my human body still stays the same.

"Cashew Nut."

After extending his life expectancy, the vet now has a bright face. However, Kyle still looked gloomy, as if he heard my life was ending soon.

Hey, you punk. It's you who has a month to live, you shouldn't be worrying about me. Technically, I- I'm already dead. I already died so.

..... I need to raise the miracle value, so that both you and I could survive. I have no choice but to trust the system.

"Cashew Nut, you must have heard what the doctor said earlier right?"

Usually, hamsters don't understand people, Your Highness.

"Occasional exercise can lengthen your lifespan."

Kyle put me back in the house and said solemnly.

Ahhh, I don't know. I don't understand. What exercise? I already ran a thousand laps on the wheel, I think that's enough exercise for my whole life. If you want to exercise so bad, do it yourself!

"Hurry up, don't you like this?"

He put the wheel in front of me and began spinning it with his finger while looking at me anxiously. The wheel turned like a Ferris wheel, and it improved my mood. Oh, he's actually good at acting cute, turn it around more!

"Cashew Nut, please."

― Eek! [ Don't wanna! ]

"Just one turn, okay?"

― Squeak! [ You do it yourself! ]

It's annoying, I don't want to exercise. After you sigh, everything you eat is already digested. Didn't you think I'm cute as a chubby hamster? Just accept it!

'By the way, what should I do with Belial.'

Ever since that day they almost fought, Belial hasn't visited the study once.

It's not hard to find out which room he's staying, but I can't get in as a servant. It's no use even if "Summon" lasted for ten hours instead of an hour.

'..... How to prevent the chandelier falling during the banquet.'

Ah, how am I supposed to do this.

I can already feel a headache coming. Mr. System, isn't this too difficult for a hamster to accomplish. Please change the difficulty to beginner mode!

[ _(:3」∠)_  ]

You're just lying down? Fine I'll just lie down as well.

I fell asleep drowsily after watching Kyle acting cute for a long time.

T/N: I'm sorry if the quality of the translation this time is a bit lacking, I'm currently sick, but since I already started translating this chapter, I thought I should just finish it before I let myself rest. Once again tysm to everyone who donated, it is much appreciated!!! novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[revisitingfandoms]

I got an idea for a prompt to show how the cookies outside of their game of 'cookies and kingdoms'...maybe they are doing a session....like the one where they free dark enchantress and dark enchantress is hyped to be able to FINALLY play a bit! they end up taking a pizza break when the pizzas and snacks y/n ordered for everyone arrives and they pause to eat....maybe end up talking about the session and/or life outside of the game...like gingwrbrave talks about his non-saving the world (because world doesn't need saving since it's basically happy ending thing lol) adventures, dark enchantress could talk about the cake tower and how all the cake citizens and hounds are doing...ooor they can talk about the session and what they hope will happen in it and other session stuff they'd talk about as they eat their delicious pizza and snacks.

Sure thing! Although I kind've went with a more modern take. Both White Lily and Dark Enchantress are half sisters in this AU!

(Also I may have add someone else you might see later down the line for my own planning)

Enjoy!

ANSWERED PROMPT 2- BREAK TIME

The doorbell rings as the group pauses, The current dungeon master- Caramel Shade pauses in what he was doing and turns to one of the game watchers, “Can one of you go get that? I bet its the pizza.” From the silent thumbs up and the dragging a formerly dozing Eternal sugar- it was silent salt who was grabbing it.

Caramel shade then turns back to the actual game players, “Alright, we’re gonna wrap this portion up- As our heroes break open the moonstone containing white lily cookie- Her frown turns to a smirk as she changes right before their eyes. To our hero's horror- white lily cookie has changed into Dark Enchantress cookie!” Caramel Shade looks over his book, “If you could roll for intimation, Enchantress.” 

Reader cookie whistles at the Nat19 role from the white haired woman. The Kiddos watch on in a barely concealed horror. 

Caramel Shade nods, “As the moonstone crumbles- a great cake beast rises with her, its arm carrying Dark enchantress cookie upwards as it frees itself. She commends you for breaking her out of imprisonment.” The kids seem to wilt at Caramel shades next words, “Welp that's all for the morning session- we reconve at two sharp, anyways silent salt should be back with the pizza hop to it.” There's a minor bit of whining but the kids run to the kitchen to grab their slices, White Lily goes over to her older sister- and he vaguely hears the plans they were making. 

Reader cookie walks over with a hum, “So whats the future plans in mind?” Caramel shuffles through his notebook, “Well, I figured that since we’re working in the same universe as the Beasts and Blood campaign that Mirror Moon ran and our previous campaign that I ran, so you can guess what's coming up.” Reader’s eyes widen as they snicker, “Yep, I can’t wait to see Shadow Milk on the table again- that was chaos on its own.” Caramel Shade waves them off, “You go get some food, I’ll join later.” Reader walks off to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, Reader cookie notes that the big fold up table was out with a variety of pizzas on the table with a big container with bread bags that was already halfway gone. Several of the younger members were seemingly discussing possible future plans and what they could do while a few of the others namely Strawberry crepe were suggesting that they just join DEC- It was hard to not snort what he was bopped on the nose with a breadstick by the younger custard cookie. 

Reader cookie hums to themself as they walk over the drink and decide to go for a water before nabbing a slice or two of pizza and bread bag. Mengering over to the living room they spot Dark choco suplexing licorice cookie, while velvet did the same to his dog chiffon and Choco Brute did the same to a giggling Poison Mushroom. 

Reader plops onto the couch beside pure vanilla- the older man offers them a smile, “So, I take it custard and his friends are discussing their future plans?” Reader nods as they offer a bread slice- the man originally tries to refuse what accepts after a bit of insistence much to readers' delight. They nod to his original question, “Yep- and I can’t wait for Custards reaction to when you sit down at the table.” The older man opens his eyes with a raised eyebrow before closing them, “Oh, so Caramel shade told you?” Reader snickers, “Nope, just said that thing linked to previous campaigns were gonna show up.” Pure vanilla lets out a laugh with the shake of his head. 

And Custards little screech after they found out pure vanilla was in their team was quite adorable.

[sheepalmighty]

Before I forget again, and because I probably won't draw these for my AU, I thought I'd cover a couple of the things I missed out.

One of the things (which I don't think is really necessary for me to mention) is that the hickey's intended to be a mistake on Kale's part. Specifically for exploring Kale's character I decided on that because of the similarity to making the mistake with the music player. I just cannot stop thinking about how he doesn't even notice he's still holding the music player - he has a few instances of not being aware of himself from what I can tell. Relatedly, similar to the face journey Chai goes through in my comic Kale would also have one when he sees the music player (I got the wording just right for the dialogue, and the joke in it, after this bit but he's straddling Chai at the time so I'm not drawing that).

So, on the Chai side of it I imagine he continues to perceive it - makes others and by extension the reader see it too - because he probably heals up fine from any other bruises (it's technically an injury) through health pickups. He notices this but decides to ignore it, but others can't unlike in the game when he keeps his thoughts to himself. Here I'm hoping this got interpreted as being some amount of fondness he can't shake... but, I get the feeling that I avoided drawing any parts of the AU that might actually indicate that... oops.

An aside, but the dialogue between Chai and Kale (CH-ASIR ver) reads to me like Kale's probing whether Chai's worth it / is curious about him, gets disappointed with his response, and does the CH-ASIR equivalent of stuffing all of the breadsticks in his purse and leaving.

Oh, the other thing I almost forgot was I finally figured out how Chai gets attached to Kale in the AU, which is through noticing Kale's full attention on him: he solely is in the spotlight. This leads into the argument of who likes who that, honestly, I drew a sketch of back in the first batch but it took me until now to realise how exactly it'd go. This ends up tying into that throwaway line I made of Kale saying Chai looks good in the light.

Also, thinking about the game there's that first statue of Kale that emphasises him basking in the light (Roxanne's statue somewhat shrinking away from him and the light), so I think there's definitely some parallels between wanting to be in the (spot)light for both Kale and Chai. In a way, it feels like Kale wants to keep Chai out of that metaphoric spotlight in the game, similar to how he most likely felt overshadowed by Roxanne. Considering all of that, I did wonder if it was against Kale's characterisation to make him okay with Chai "looking good in the light", but there's some push and pull between these two I think (see that CH-ASIR conversation above). Less explainable to me is my drawing instances of Kale blowing up at Chai - in the game he definitely tries to keep his cool around Chai specifically. To me, they seemed to have singled each other out as similar in some way perhaps, thus trying to act cooler around the other? Well, maybe the AU was more focussed on them pushing the other's boundaries.

(Hm, about them being similar I also had a comic sketch idea of Kale thinking the same thing that Chai later parrots that kinda adds insult to injury with him feeling like Chai's stealing his stuff, but it required a bit of preamble that I couldn't bother also drawing.)

More on technicalities now but I have no idea what the under-the-line asterisks that bookend Chai's name on his ID are supposed to represent. I thought it might have something to do with how he drew a star on his application form for the occupation, but maybe its a technical thing? In any case, I put one on the Rank part of the card in my comic implying that Chai is an "exception", in that he's not actually on the same level, he's still trapped even when given some free rein (wanted to reference the battle rank too because why not).

Wait, there's one more thing: I just think Kale's coat/jacket looks comfy to wear in cold weather. Also, in the previous batch of comic I was getting sick of drawing it, but it got easier to draw in the recent lot. Actually, about the coat, I like how Kale chooses to wear something that links him explicitly to the company with all the logos. It's like he's saying that he is the company, but it also shows his insecurity: he essentially implies the inverse - that he is nothing without the company. You really get the impression that Kale is projecting really strongly whenever he tells Chai he's nothing without his tech. Similarly, when Kale talks to Chai sometimes it feels like he might as well be talking into a mirror.

Thanks for reading these pretty much unorganised thoughts, for fun here're the sketches (I couldn't draw Kale right, sorry) for, like, a couple panels. The first one I just like how cartoonish Chai looks (I wanted to go with a more subdued response in the finalised panel), and the second's just what I do to myself when I can't think of the dialogue yet (even the scripts I did do needed some significant tweaking in places because they needed even more refinement):

[nyoomfruits]

got tagged by @ocontraire to post a snippet from a current wip, so here's a snippet from the landoscar fake married au (yeah no you didn't misread that they do actually pretend to be married in this fic. by actually getting married. its a long story)

tagging @eisenberg @charlescoded @fueledbyremembering @celientjeee :)))

A clattering noise from somewhere in the apartment shakes Lando out of his thoughts and he lifts himself out of his chair, putters towards the kitchen, where Oscar is putting the last of the groceries away.

He’s taken off his suit jacket and tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He’s run a hand through his hair so it’s not sticking in every which direction anymore, and he’s taking off his dress shoes, moving through the kitchen in a pair of race car patterned socks Lando got him for his birthday this year.

“Hey,” he says, when Lando appears in the doorway. “Did you think about what you wanted for dinner yet? I have chicken, so I can make you that pasta dish you like, or maybe some kind of wrap? I think I have an avocado in here somewhere, I can make some Guac.” Oscar riffles through the bag as he talks, and emerges holding an avocado, sending Lando a triumphant smile.

Lando raises an eyebrow at him. The smile turns into a frown. “Absolutely not,” Oscar says. “Lando. I got all these groceries!” Lando wiggles his eyebrows at him. “No. Come on. Pick a dish.” Oscar brandishes the avocado at him like that’s somehow going to change his mind.

It isn’t. Lando pouts at him. “Please?” He says, because he’s not above playing dirty to get what he wants.

There’s a stalemate, a moment of silence where Oscar just glares at him, avocado still in hand. Then he sighs, very deeply, and puts the avocado in the fruit bowl on the corner of the counter. “Fine. But I get to pick the restaurant. And we’re eating an actual home cooked meal tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says, waving vaguely in Oscar’s direction as he takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the UberEats app. “Okay, pick. No fish.”

Oscar rolls his eyes as he starts packing the rest of his groceries away. “Don’t worry, way ahead of you. I was thinking that Italian place? With the breadsticks.”

Lando, who was only a little nervous about Oscar’s restaurant choice, perks up. “I love breadsticks,” he says, scrolling through the app.

“I know,” Oscar says, moving past Lando to put some stuff in the fridge. “How was your mum, by the way?”

Lando groans as he drops down at their little kitchen table, sprawling himself over the surface. “Ever since cousin Cecilia’s wedding she’s gotten it in her head that I need to get married to live like, a happy satisfied life. So she keeps pestering me about it, about how I need to find a nice boy to settle down with.”

Oscar makes a ‘hm’ noise. “But you don’t want to,” he says, head mostly buried in their snacks cupboard as he tries to make everything fit.

“It’s just annoying, that she can’t see I’m happy the way I am right now, you know? I have enough money to do whatever I want, I have the apartment, I have you,” he snorts. “Maybe I should just marry you. That would surely get my mom of my back.”

There’s a clattering noise as a packet of Oreo’s tries to make a break for it and hits Oscar square in the nose, making him stagger back a little with a strangled noise. Lando laughs, and picks his phone back up, scrolling through the options of the restaurant.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, when he’s retrieved the packet of Oreo’s from the floor. He opens his mouth to say something else, maybe, but Lando interrupts him, waving his phone around. “Let me guess,” he says. “You want the Chicken parm?”

“Hm, yeah, sure,” Oscar says, but he seems distracted, deep in thought. He does that sometimes, where he gets so entangled in his own brain that he barely registers what’s going on around him. Usually it’s right before he makes a breakthrough on something for work. Lando decides to leave him to it and orders the chicken parm.

And extra breadsticks.

[weebsinstash]

*sighs as I add the yandere Batfam to my Blorbo list* do y'all ever have such a genuinely unsatisfying life and childhood you start for whatever reason vicariously living through age regression ideas where you're literally raised by other people

Like imagine you're a superhero/vigilante but you're fairly small time and you've actually bumped into Batman a handful of times and, he actually likes you, your heart is in the right place, and through some wacky villain shenanigans or some Lazarus Pit fuckery, you get zapped by a ray gun or hit wirh a spell or "resurrected wrong" and suddenly Bruce has to deal with a de-aged you, a teenager without their adult memories and aged back to before you developed your skills or your metagene that gave you your powers

And here's Batman already shoving adopted children into his pockets like breadsticks at olive garden "oh no, ANOTHER orphan/kid with a horrible childhood in need of a home? Whatever shall we do. Oh no my hand slipped and I already texted Alfred to prepare a room to stay and oh no my Waynazon shopping list is suddenly full of new furniture and gifts and clothes and i already emailed Dick and Barabaras university so you can get a better education and oh wow just what is going on this is so weird"

Alfred standing by with his dry wit whenever Reader gets hormonal or does typical teenager things "ah yes, yelling 'I hate you' and slamming doors, I definitely didn't have enough of this experience raising you, Master Wayne" but like he adores it really, we all know this man is a caretaker at heart and as someone who 'knew you before' st least through what Bruce has told him, he's happy to help give you a better life

Of course then complications arise whenever Reader gets her memory back (and potentially extremely pissed she was kept as a child and literally no attempts, none, zero, nada, zilch attempts were made to turn her back to normal) and she's like "ok well I'm mentally an adult again but I'm still in a kids body, let's try and turn me back and then I can be a real adult again" and the entire batfamily is just "OR, hear me out, OR. You could stay here though? And if you wanna be a crimefighter you should at least stay with us but like its jusr ao dangerous though what if you got hurt 🥺" IF they let you return to hero work at all but let's be real, if you did, I think Bruce would be so proud to put a little bat symbol or R or whatever on your uniform cause it's like, awwww bonding, everyone's gonna know you're his lil protege 🥰

And imagine Reader goes to confront Bruce about this whole thing and you just start bawling because "was I just such a pathetic loser before that you wanted to change everything about me" and like he did the whole thing with good intentions but, YEAH he did absolutely lie to you and kind of shape you a little for the few years you were "raised" by him and you're standing there with your new clothes and your new haircut and all the hobbies he's paid for and the education he's paid for and all the new things you've learned and can do because he had the resources to give them to you and you're wondering what was so unlikable about you before that he doesnt want you to be that person again, to be the person you've always known and lived your life as

Suffice to say he isn't going to turn you back at all and if you have to "return to your old self" by literally naturally aging back to your "original age" then so be it. You've got an entire mansion filled with your loving 'family' and you're happy and you're healthy and really, maybe you're just being anxious and scared and all it will take is time for you to adjust and see that all of them know what's best. Amd if you never do adjust and you're just kept around anyways, well, it doesn't make much of a difference to them. Hell, maybe they'll find a hero or villain or magic user who can, you know, maybe make you forget all about the life you had before, completely wipe your head until only the Wayne family, your family, is left

Really, Bruce would consider it just to hear you call him 'Dad' again

[mochawolf505]

Cheat Day

(Weight Gain Story)

(A tall jock happily walks out of the store with a tin of ice cream and a can of whipped cream)

“Ah, what a good cheat day this’ll be. Haven’t had sweets in a while! Good thing my buddy recommended me this stuff, and they both are even made for gainers like me! …Is it even a cheat day if all my foods are gonna be packed with protein? Eh, who cares, I’ll order a pizza or something when I get home to make it a proper cheat day.”

He walks home and sets his ice cream on the counter, still having not properly read the label.

[GNR: Gainer Ice Cream- Made For True Gainers]

(Warning- Causes an increase in hunger, and stomach capacity, with side effects including sluggishness, laziness, increased weight gain, alongside more sizable belches and louder stomach noises

Do not eat for at least 5 minutes after each use of GNR* brand products, as the effects may pass onto other foods

Do not mix with any other GNR* brand products, as results are not tested)

An almost identical label could be spotted on the whipped cream, as it is of the same brand- and has the same unfortunate side effects. He would’ve known this, had he cared to read it.

Lying back on the couch, the unknowing jock flings the cap off the GNR: Gainer Whipped Cream and chugs it before he makes a call to the local pizza place…

“Heya! Can I get one large pizza… (GRRRRROOOOOWWWWWLLL) oh wow, maybe just a couple more… fourty large pizzas (GWWWOOAAARR) and twenty orders of breadsticks (GRRROOOAAAN) and fifty two-liters of soda? The address? Yeah uhh…”

After the call is finished, he looks down at his gurgling gut, confused as to why it would be so hungry- Until he notices his gut has bulged out a whole two feet!

“WOAH. Okay, I’m absolutely sure that wasn’t there before… Maybe it’s from the whipped cream? Y’know, aerated cans and such? That would explain the noise… I’m super hungry though, but it must just be because it’s my cheat day, and my gut’s ready to bulk!”

He goes to slap his seemingly tight gut and sure enough- WHAP! -But what he didn’t expect was his hand sinking in a few inches deep into his definitely flabby midsection

“Uhh, okay, that’s not how a gut works, I think… Unless it means my gut is ready to digest all that pizza I ordered? (GWWWOOOAAAAARRRRP) Ugh, alright, I can’t wait any longer- I’m gonna dig into this ice cream!”

And with a spoon and a hungry gut, the ex-jock got to work. Amazingly, he scarfed down the entire tin of ice cream before the pizzas arrived- adding another 28 feet of pure flab onto his gut. With this, his legs and arms grew outward with 2 feet of fat in each direction, with moobs flowing down and his chin developing into its own pile of lard. Before, when it was just the whipped cream, it turned all of his muscles into fat, and added a hefty belly onto him- placing him at around 170 lbs. But now, with the ice cream adding onto that, it ballooned him up past. 2000 lbs of fat- over a TON.

Not having time to have fully taken this in, a knock on the door is heard, and the door opens

“Hey man, I thought I’d be your delivery guy, since I recommended those gainer foods to ya- WOAH! You really packed on the pounds man, huh! Well, y’know what, I think you’ve got this all under control man. See ya at the gym tomorrow, man! I think?”

And with that, the blob’s friend tossed the pizzas up on his belly, alongside the breadsticks, and set the soda down up there, too.

“Ough… (Huff, wheeze) I need… More food…”

And with that, the 1-ton pile of flab somehow got to work, shoving pizza after pizza down his gullet, along with a 2-liter getting chugged between each. After the pizza stash ran dry, he moved onto the breadsticks.

The breadsticks were eaten in packs of two, with another whole 2-liter chugged between each feast.

Plumping out by 2 feet with each slice of pizza, 4 feet for every 2-liter, and 12 per bunch of breadsticks left the flabby mound spilling out 1,110 feet in each direction. Having shattered his walls from all his weight, the 74,000 lb mountain of fat could do nothing but yell for help… In his own special way-

“Hey! (Wheeze, pant) You! (Huff, huff) Bring me some more (Wheeze) of that Gainer Ice Cream… (Huff, Pant) And another couple hundred pizzas, too!”

(BWWWWWOOOOAAAAAARRRRRPP) (BWEEEEEEAAAAARRRRRRRRPPPHHH)(GWWOOOAARRRGGGLL) (GRRROOAAAN)

“I’m (Pant, Huff) Starving! (Wheeze)”

[cracka1604]

Numbah one - C

Hello, and welcome! To uh... White trans girl woke blog... Yeah, creative name, I know. I'm Cracka, but you probably already know that. This is my first post on the blog, awesome! 😎 I'll use this as a... FAQ thingy... Even though nobody asked.

I made this blog to just... Write about my life, document it kinda. I love looking in on other peoples lives, it seems so interesting to me. I mean, obviously i dont go too deep, I dont like getting super duper personal with this 'hobby' of mine, but I thought other people might be interested. So, I made this. I've never really documented anything in my life, I really just, let myself live. I reflect a lot on what I've done, especially the bad things. But I never really... Shared it I guess? I told stories to those I know but when something happens in my life, or I finish doing something, I dont normally go "Hey guys did you know this just happened? Lol!" I normally just... Live. My first thought when something big happens isnt to tell anyone, its my life. If someone cared they would ask me if something is happening. Though, that hasnt happened in a few years. I dont know, I just want to talk about my life to somewhere, even if nobody will read this I guess it would be nice for me to talk about stuff at the very least.

Yo, I'm Cracka, a transgender MtF internet person, and a minor. Also a professional dumbass. I am diagnosed with Autism, and ASPD. I like to draw, make music, and sing. But I might not share that much here, I dont know. Im not very interesting. I sit in my room, play games, and make shitty art, while complaining to my friends and significant other that my life sucks, and then talk to them about breadsticks. And then have a mental breakdown at night. But apparently to others I'm pretty alright, or a living sin. I dont know lol

All that aside, here's a short story from recently. I recently had to buy batteries, but I never realized in my entire life that batteries were locked up. In a case. Maybe this is a stupid teenager revelation, but... Why are batteries so goddamn expensive? I bought 10 for like... 20$... I may be poor but I think thats a bit too much for this cylindric tiny metal thing with juice in it to power up my electronic devices. I hate capitalism man...

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

This is an internet anthology. I am acting:

…

…

…

Looking back at my childhood and all the traumatic things that happened made me realize just how depressive my mom was. She smiled and laughed and said she was “happy,” sure… but I never saw her smile or laugh unless it was in front of other people; but behind closed doors, with just the two of us the mask came off. I was the only one who was allowed to see who she really was behind the disguise. She cried all the time. I could hear her through the walls at night when I went to sleep. Everything, everything was for show. She liked to make others think she had joy but she didn’t. She didn’t because she couldn’t feel it. Her depression was a crushing weight on the entire house and she made it everyone’s problem. All she wanted to do was feel worse and feed off of me so I could stay and listen to her rants forever in a vicious, codependent cycle. I didn’t know until now what the term for that was. Truly, discovering this community of people who were abused by depressive parents was a blessing. It helped me come to my senses and realize I was not the issue; it was her all along. Knowledge is power, everyone. ❤️

…

hiya could anyone give me advice pls its urgent

so i (16m) met this guy (17m) who ill call M in my economics class. we chatted for a little, he was suuuuper sweet and charming and we really had some kinda gay chemistry going on iykwim? so we went on a date at this cute Italian restaurant and the guy gives us our breadsticks. M just……. stared????? at them like stared at the breadsticks without even saying thank you and he looked kinda souless and it was fucking freaky but i ignored it because maybe he was just tired yk? we study alot so its not like super unrealistic to think that but now im starting to think it was a sign he wasnt right in the head. later on we hugged and kissed and he told me he loved me so my doubts went away cuz love and happiness go together. basically i wasnt worried anymore, were both happy right?

well after exchanging numbers to keep in touch i called him about five times and he never called me. its like i put in all the effort so i called him out for ignoring me and he apologized

anyways we made up and went on a 2nd date which was his idea. because i am sixteen i got my license after doing drivers ed, obvs i was really proud of it so i told him and he smiled saying he was happy for me but something was wrong. he was smiling but his eyes looked dead and it reminded me of that one tiktok about how depressives have dead eyes when they smile because they cant actually feel happy not even for other ppl. it was really creepy how he just lied to my face like that. he still never calls me, i always have to call him. its like he doesn’t care about life at all

any tips on how to politely get out of the relationship? thx

…

4 Signs Your Lover is a K!lljoy

1.) The eyes

Do you surprise your lover with gifts and acts of service, but they seem less than enthusiastic? Do they say they’re happy for you, but something in their face tells you they’re not? Do they never seem to truly enjoy anything in life? Then blame the uncanny valley. Science shows that true, joyful smiles cause the corners of your eyes to crinkle. Since k!lljoys are completely incapable of feeling happiness, it makes sense that they don’t know how to smile without giving off some bad vibes in the process.

2.) They’re lazy

Some of the traits used to diagnose Major Depressive Disorder in the DSM-5 are: lack of motivation, excessive sleeping, and lethargy. These traits inherent to depression make k!lljoys far less productive than most normal people, so of course they expect others to do everything for them, because they care more about themselves than they do other people. Do you constantly find yourself doing all the household chores while your spouse vegetates on the couch? Do they say they’re too “tired” to do things when you know they’ve done nothing to make them tired? Chances are, your partner is depressive.

3.) They hate people

Lack of joy is highly correlated with social withdrawal. K!lljoys dislike parties and always hide in corners or bathrooms if they’re forced to go to one. They also never call you, you have to call them. You have to do all the work to maintain the relationship.

Low-functioning killjoys may lie in bed all day miserably, but high-functioning killjoys can blend in, and may even be more talkative so they can vent their problems to everyone. They do this so everyone else can feel as unhappy as they do. As the saying goes, misery loves company.

4.) They want to k!ll themselves

It’s in the name. K!lljoys may not say it outright, but they may joke about d34th or unaliving themselves at minor inconveniences. This is not normal behavior, and actually a sign of a severe case of depression.

This may be done for two reasons. The first is to guilt you to stay in the relationship because they’re afraid of being abandoned by their stress ball. You can tell if mentions of sewerslide are meant to guilt you if they are often followed by common manipulative phrases such as “you’re my reason for living” or “I’ll never leave you.” Or k1lljoys may be genuine about their desire to d*e, so that they can pass their sadness onto others while they are relieved of it, as a sort of twisted revenge.

You may feel guilty about leaving them or putting them in danger of carrying through with sewerslide, but remember: sewerslide is the ultimate act of selfishness. You are doing the right thing by leaving them because they are toxic and will only harm you, no matter how good it feels to love them. They don’t love you back. A k1lljoy cannot love you back.

…

hot take but if you’re so sad you cant even take care of yourself without leeching off people and hurting them then you should be sterilized so you don’t pass those genes onto your children and cause more suffering than you already have lol

#killjoy parents #depressive abuse #thanks for making me into a monster like you dad /s #depressives dni #i needed you dad I really really did and then you fucking shot yourself #and it didn’t even work so now you’re brain dead in a home #i hope no one else cares for you and gets hurt for it

…

So it’s come to my attention that there is a common misconception that depressives cannot feel joy. True, some of them don’t; but some of them do. What gives them joy? What most people find makes them happy: being treated like human beings and not like a they have evil suicide cootieshope this helps 🥰

#actually depressive #actual killjoy #you guys realize how eugenicist it is to demand depressed people be sterilized right? #we cannot control how much joy we feel #what we get is what we get and that doesn’t make us evil

…

hot take: being able to feel happy does not make you a good person

you can feel joy because you hurt people and you can use motivation to do bad things. you don’t need love to be a good person either. you can simply exist and not do bad things

#actually depressive #depressive abuse believers dni #imagine morals being based on emotions and not actions pfft

…

#imagine morals being based on emotions and not actions pfft

Imagine abusers wanting sympathy from the abused

Don’t act like you aren’t always negative about everything and try to level the emotional playing field so that everyone suffers don’t act like you haven’t been a burden to everyone you touch don’t act like you don’t post pictures of your bleeding cuts for minors to see and imitate dont act like you don’t romanticize your sick disorder to take others down with you don’t act like you don’t purposefully ignore your friends and loved ones for the sake of your alone time don’t act like you don’t drink to drown the sadness and become violent to your families don’t act like you aren’t cut from the same cloth as people who become terrorists and blow themselves up to kill many others

THOSE ARE ACTIONS

#depressives fuck off #depressives kill yourselves challenge #oh wait

…

I want to die so the ones who never held me close to their hearts may carry my coffin on their shoulders and tuck me into the ground like a down bed

#killjoy #sad bitch #its sad girl hours #depressive #sad girl aesthetic #coquette #tw sui ment #girlsandboywhocry #spilledink

…

yo i think my mom is a killjoy

#explains a lot tbh #never gets out and is unhealthily attached to me #the whole dead eyes thing

…

anyone ever stop to think that maybe the depression that I am experiencing in my own brain is making me suffer more than you are for dealing with my reaction to suffering all the time lol

#actually depressive #k*lljoy is a slur btw idk why you armchair diagnose people with “lazy asshole” #instead of maybe considering it’s just hard for us to do things #and interact with the world without feeling joy. Since when do we consider someone’s inability to do something as a moral failing?

…

[sohannabarberaesque]

Angolo della poesia (that's Italian for "Poetry Corner")

We can just imagine Huckleberry Hound hosting quite an interesting gathering (and slightly on the intimate side, know) at some half-baked Italian restaurant, maybe a bit of the hole-in-the-wall sort, of many of his Funtastic cronies for a rather interesting dinner.

The rationale, shouldst thou ask? "Braccobaldo." Which is the Italian name for That Oh So Merry, Chuckleberry, Huckleberry Hound (as his theme song otherwise reminds us). The point not lost upon Huckleberry and Clementine, essentially hosts of the dinner as much as the eatery ultimately handling all.

Never mind that the dinner is largely minestrone, spaghetti with Bolognese sauce, breadsticks and garlic toast, blood orange or lemon soda (in the Italian manner, with fruit juices and the local acqua minerale) and, for dessert, zuppa inglese and espresso.

Never mind that while "zuppa inglese" may translate as "English soup," Huck explains that such is more of a rich custard cake. "Amusing," Clementine remarks, "how the Italians come up with amusing dessert names, like 'gelato' for the local ice cream--which sounds like 'gelatin,' but has a smoothness all its own."

Not quite lost for the translation, shall we say?

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @indigo-corvus @iheartgod175 @jellystone-enjoyer @funtasticworld @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thylordshipofbutts @thebigdingle @themineralyoucrave @warnerbros-blog1 @groovybribri @theweekenddigest @railguner34 @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @warnerbrosent-blog

[crispysoupwonderland]

But We're the Same, Darling: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

some nsfw, art by breadstick

cw: mental hospital setting, mistreatment of mentally ill, non-con

Mar awoke to the nurses screeching like vultures. Their eyes were hazy and they had to scratch them to get them to focus. They looked at the other bed and saw that Cassandra was already gone. Their room had a small window that only let a little bit of sunlight in, Mar hadn’t noticed how dark the whole place was until today.

 They sat in the bed with its thin mattress and tissue like sheets. They curled themselves inward, tucking their knees under their chin. When were they going to leave this place? Would they ever leave this place? Mar had things to do in life, go to school, get a job…get a wife maybe. Society wasn’t accepting of homosexuality, but Mar always dreamed of running away to somewhere and living a quiet life with a wife. They started to daydream…coming home to a girl…hugging her…kissing her… 

KNOCK KNOCK. 

Mar’s daydreams were interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door. 

“Um…hello?” Mar shifted in the bed towards the door. 

A nurse opened the door and poked her head in. 

“Dr. Sceleratus would like to see you for an introductory meeting. Get up and follow me” she said. 

Mar slowly got out of bed and walked over to the nurse. The pair walked down the twisting corridors, filled with lost souls in off-white hospital gowns. Mar followed slowly behind the nurse, not eager to talk to a doctor. 

The two finally reach a large door with a gold plaque reading Dr. Sceleratus, Head Psychiatrist. The nurse knocked on the door. The clack of dress shoes on wood approaching the door sounded off. The door creaked open just enough for the Doctor to poke his face out. He looked blankly at the nurse but slowly swept his eyes over to Mar. His eyes narrowed and a twisted smile formed on his lips. 

“Come in now” he stepped to the side and held his arm out towards the room. Shutting the door quickly behind them. 

Mar stepped into the office and looked around. The room featured a large desk with a model of a human brain sitting on it. There was a bookshelf filled with textbooks and medical instruments. There was even what seemed to be an examination table. Mar stood awkwardly in front of the desk, fidgeting with the hem of the gown they wore. 

The doctor approached slowly from behind. Mar could hear each footstep getting closer and then suddenly the feeling of hands on their shoulders. They jumped in fear. 

The doctor chuckled at their apparent fear and ran his hands down Mar’s arms and then walked to be in front of them. 

“Don’t be scared darling, I’m an expert of the human mind, I can tell when you're afraid. Go on and sit on the examination table for me.” He gestured over to the metal structure. 

Mar slowly obeyed and sat down on the table, their legs dangling over the edge. 

“As you know, I never got to do my intake examination on you yesterday due to all…the excitement. It's something we need to do for all patients, to maintain the general health of all of our patients and to get more information on what we’re treating” he said while walking towards the table.

 “So… tell me, what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?” he asked with a sly smile which seemed to expose a pair of sharp teeth. He pressed himself against the table's edge, his hands gripping the table on either side of Mar. “I’d really like to know…” he said, his eyes moving down towards Mar’s lips. 

Mars quickly moved backwards on the table and looked at the floor, staying silent. Dr.S reached out and grabbed their chin, gently forcing Mar to look back at him. 

“Here, I know you might be nervous, so I'll give you a reason to trust me.” He backed away from the table. His lab coat dropped to the floor, and he slowly undid his tie and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. 

Mar’s stomach dropped in fear. They slammed their eyes closed. “No, please…oh god”

“Hey look” the doctor's voice whispered. Mar opened one eye tentatively, and then the other. The doctor stood in front of them with a soft smile, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loosened. But to Mar’s surprise, a familiar sight greeted their eyes, bandages binding a chest. 

Mar’s mouth opened slightly in confusion, “You’re not a man?”. 

“No dear, that's my dirty little secret. No one would ever let a woman become head psychiatrist now would they? So this is how I've gotten where I am today, masquerading as a man. It’s not particularly difficult either. My nature has always drifted towards androgyny. However, the one thing about me that really does align with the traditional male sex is my desire for women and pretty things like you.”

“You’re a homosexual too?” Mar asked with a quiver in their voice, this was all so overwhelming. Their fingers picked at their lips. 

“I told you we have so much in common!” Dr. S shouted with a huge smile, arms raised in the air. “And now that you know this secret about me, you can trust me with your own. Its mutually assured destruction! If I were ever to tell anyone your secrets, why, you’d be able to turn right around and tell mine.” 

Dr. S sauntered closer. 

“So now, tell me, when did you first find yourself with these homosexual…urges” the doctor's eyes lit up when she growled the last word.

Mar blushed in embarrassment. They quietly began to speak. 

“Well, I've always liked girls, ever since I can remember. I guess I’ve had crushes on girls in some of my classes in school and work”. The image of Cassandra flashed in Mars’s mind but they continued. 

“It's natural to me even though society seems to think otherwise. There's nothing wrong with being a homosexual, a lesbian, I'm healthy! There's nothing anyone can do to change me, you get that right? You won't try to change me will you?” Mar looked up hopefully at Dr. S. 

“Get up,” Dr.S said, her face darkening. 

Mar got up from the examination table, confused, and stood with their back to the wall. 

Dr.S rushed over to them and grabbed their wrists, pinning them against the wall. 

Mar’s eyes widened in shock. Dr.S was taller than them, looming over their body. Her hair covered her eyes but her mouth hung open in a smile. Mars squirmed in fear, but Dr.S was strong and easily held them in place. The doctor let out a laugh. 

“Now dear, don't get the wrong idea. My number one priority is to heal the sick. Homosexuality is a disorder, and you seem to have a very extreme case. You're going to need extensive treatment from only the best, me.”

Sceleratus’s eyes rolled over Mars's body, her breathing quickened. 

“And know that if you ever let any of my secrets slip, I'll never be able to cure you, and you'll never get to leave. Now be good for the doctor dear…”

She leaned towards Mar’s, like a vampire about to bite her victim. Her lips almost touched Mars’s when a knock was heard at the door. 

Dr.S jumped in shock, the seductive look on her face immediately turning to one of concern. She quickly let go of their wrists and ran to put on her lab coat. 

“Coming!” 

She shouted in a cheery voice, messily slipping on her sleeves to her long white coat. She jogged over to open the door but stopped herself. She turned around and with a terrifying smile, put her finger over her lips and then slid her thumb along her neck, finishing the gesture by pointing at Mar. She yanked open the door, poking her head out again like before. 

Mar heard the doctor talking in a hushed voice with whoever was outside and then the nervous laughter of the doctor. The door closed and Sceleratus whipped around and began to re-tie her tie. She had forgotten to straighten it. 

She laughed nervously, “opps, don't want the nurse to think I'm in here foolin’ around with you now would we?”

“Well, unfortunately, our time for this morning is up, that was the nurse coming to collect you.”

Mar breathed a sigh of relief and scampered towards the door, making a wide arch around the doctor. 

Without turning around, Sceleratus chirped “But don't worry darling, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow for your first treatment.”

[uncleskyrule]

for the fic writer ask game, 1, 26, 30, and 41? :))))

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Oh boy, this is tough. I experiment with writing styles frequently, so idk if there's just one that could be a good introduction to them all. Still, I guess I'll go with this one: "alive again" (short oneshot of post-BotW Zelink being cute and silly).

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Lol since you sent this ask, I've written two entire fics without dialogue: "this one at last" (TotK Zelda's POV of waiting for LInk) and "you waited smiling for this" (HW Link's journey of self-destruction and then healing). I'm interested in trying out a dialogue-only fic, but I don't have any ideas yet. There has to be a reason why there's only dialogue, y'know? I don't want to just write it that way just because.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Yes, and I'm so proud of it! I've never written whump or any kind of fight scene, and definitely have never mixed humor and angst before, so writing this fic was a challenge, but it totally worked! One commenter said that this fic felt like someone put Looney Tunes music over an action film, and the compliment hasn't left my head since. Without further ado, I present "holding out for a beedle" (BotW Link gets captured and tortured by Yiga but Beedle saves the day).

Maybe this fic affected my approach to writing by giving me confidence to explore more. Now that I know I can write a decent fight scene, I want to try to push myself to write something more in depth, like a spar between HW Zelink.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

HAh, you think just ONE fic will suffice??? I had a hard time choosing from my bookmarks list but here are some that fit the bill:

I STOP TO SMELL THE BLOOD IN THE TREES AND FOR A MOMENT THE WORLD IS SO BEAUTIFUL IT BRINGS ME TO TEARS by @corpsentry

“Let’s say you’ve been asleep for a hundred years and when you wake up you’ve lost all your memories, but you defeat the big bad monster like you’ve been told to, because a girl told you to, and because you were in love with her. And after defeating the big bad monster she comes back, only she’s not the person she was a hundred years ago. And you’re not the person you were a hundred years ago. And yet every time you look at her, your chest hurts so bad you think you might be dying.” He looks up from his breadstick. “Am I dying?” “No,” Beedle says. “I think you’re stupid.”

among golden hues by @syilcawrites

[totk] Link and Zelda reunite (in one form or another)

on gods and deserts and children by @lemoncakedesign

he is the hero chosen by the goddess. he is the bearer of the legendary blade. he is the savior of a land. he is a child. he is a killer.

Hold your faith in death and don't breathe by @sister-dear

The thing Legend hasn’t told Sky, hasn’t told any of them: Twilight isn’t the only one with an item that lets its user change shape at will. The thing Sky hasn’t told any of them: his version of the Master Sword has a few special tricks of its own.

Old Car, New Roads by Anonymous (TT)

A hum of an old engine in distress fills the air as a dark lowrider pulls up in front of the rows of storage units. The beater pull to a jerking stop in front of his garage unit. The brakes lurch unhappily and Four cringes at the sound of the wheels. The whole car vibrates unhealthily before coming to a stop as the engine cuts out. The window rolls down with a squeak and Shadow pops his head out, arm leaning out of the opening. He's got dark sunglasses and the hood of his jacket pulled up to protect him from the midday sun. "So?" Shadow asks, smirk pulling at his lips, "What do you think?"

Thanks for the ask, Evie!

[astrid-delacour]

incorrect marauders quotes as things my friends have said (part idk anymore)

Mary: there’s reggie (mocking)

James: Reggie! 

Peter: REGULUS! *points dramatically* JUDAS??!! YAY OR NEY!?

Marlene: Mommy

Peter: excuse my slur but .... 

James: *apologized to a rock*

Barty: I have the biggest microscopic penis

Evan: his hands could eat yours for breakfast

(this was all part of the same long disturbing conversation)

Barty: i licked it so its mine (talking about a fictional man)

Evan: NOT EVEN THE CABBAGE CAN CONSOLE ME

Barty: i bite the bastards to claim them

Barty: PLUS LOOK AT HIM

HES SO LICKABLE

Barty: HE LOOKS LIKE HE WOULD BE FLAVORED

Barty: i would lick his pecs they look chewy

Barty: Reg won’t fact check my ass! 

Evan: Barty just spawned from the chaos

Sirius: being sent to hell is being cancelled by god

Marlene: Dorcas like chocked me with her things bro

Lily: I’m sure you enjoyed that

Marlene: I did

Dorcas/Barty: I mean sure it’s a federal crime, but I’ll do it

James: I’m peer reviewed autistic 

Peter: please dont hit me with your magnet stick

James: I would become religious for breadsticks 

Evan: he has posture like a question mark

Barty: maybe it’s the texture maybe it’s autism 

Evan: he’s chill except for the occasional war crimes 

Barty: I’m like if a guy liked guys but not in a gay way

Evan: Pandora, do you want to get kicked in the balls

Pandora: I have balls???

Marlene: I used to have blue hair and pronouns before I discovered I had pronouns 

Sirius: your mom let’s you have whatever pronouns you want?

Pandora: don’t lick his ass

Regulus: my general presence is a shovel talk

Barty: i could have been BEHEADED it was AWESOME

Dorcas: i can't decide if i want her tongue or if i *want* her tongue

Sirius: my closet is dark and not full of penises because I was in denial 

Evan: he’s so white his mom had an affair

Evan: Pandora get your boob out of my closet!!!! 

Barty: I’m about to whip you where your butt has been 

Barty: hold on I have to find my whipping pajamas 

Peter: we stan the fuckboi/gym bro lesbian relationship 

Barty: honestly a woman is a red flag if she doesn’t have a dick

Barty: I don’t fit in a chickens ass