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drabblesandsnippets · 4 months ago

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Sunshine - Part 4

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 8

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “Maybe this'll help you relax” | [Hot Bath | Another Drink | Cockwarming] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (4k) Series Masterlist TW: Mention of (past) SA. During a blackout, Bucky learns more about Sunshine’s past.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and body image (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Internal dialogue. Sexual thoughts. Use of weed. Mention of car accident and minor injuries. Mention of emotionally immature parents. Mention of (past) SA.

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Bucky barely got any sleep last night, having spent most of it thinking about Sunshine and the different ways he could confess his feelings. Ridiculous, elaborate plans that would likely just overwhelm her and risk ruining this before it can even begin. None of which he actually considered putting forth.

This isn’t about surprising her or winning her over. Bucky wants Sunshine to trust him enough to share her past, to allow him to learn what shaped her into the woman she is today. Not as a means to take advantage of their undeniable connection, but to see if this is even something she wants to pursue.

The intimate moment they shared last night is the only evidence he has that she feels the same way he does. It’s not enough to jeopardize their friendship, no matter how much he wants to ask her out on a date. No matter how much he wants to tell her how beautiful she is and how long he’s thought about kissing her.

Bucky’s determined to do this right.

Which means he also has to take into account what Sunshine might be dealing with if his assumptions are correct. He already saw a glimpse of it last night, the way she blushed and acted as if it didn’t suddenly feel like they were the only two people in the world. Trying to pretend that they were sharing a friendly interaction and not the start of something that most people only get to dream about.

Planning to listen to his intuition - something that’s rarely steered Bucky wrong - he decides to approach this from two different angles.

Before he leaves for work, he takes the time to write her a note, going through several pieces of paper figuring out how to word his message. Friendly, but not overly flirty. The point is to ease her worry that things are awkward between them, not to convince her that last night meant something to him.

Bucky will save that for tonight. And, if there’s any indication that Sunshine’s looking for a relationship, he won’t let her go one more night convincing herself that he doesn’t want her. He can’t.

-------------------

After tossing and turning for the last few hours, she finally kicks off the covers and sits up in bed with a soft groan. The last thing she wants to do is get ready for work, having to go into the office today, but the thought of calling out sick gives her too much anxiety.

She’s not sick. She’s just stupid.

Last night has been playing on a loop in her head, as if her brain is trying to torture her, oscillating between convincing her it was all in her head, to wondering if there really was some mutual flirtation going on.

By the time her alarm is going off, she’s done a spectacular job of sticking to being ‘realistic’ about the whole thing.

Bucky definitely wasn’t flirting. He was being friendly and she was reading way too much into it. She’s not his type. She imagined the whole thing. Even if he was flirting, it didn’t mean anything - it’s just who he is and now he’s comfortable showing that part of himself to her.

While getting dressed, she’s going further down the rabbit hole, imagining worst-case. It doesn’t even matter that he behaved like nothing was out of the ordinary after he was finished taking her picture. He kept his word, delivered her the final product and even joked that seeing her positive reaction to the headshots was payment enough.

But it still doesn’t stop her from believing that she’s going to find no coffee waiting for her. Or wondering if he moved out in the middle of the night to get as far away from her as possible.

If nothing else, she excels at nonsensical scenarios.

When she finally enters the kitchen, it’s like the wind gets knocked out of her. There’s coffee waiting, the familiar Good Morning, Sunshine! travel mug full and ready to go, but there’s also a piece of carefully folded paper next to it.

Oh god.

Every single possibility races through her head again, one thought slamming into another before she can even process the original one. Torn between wanting to quickly get it over with to see what the note says and wanting to postpone it for as long as possible, to delay bad news.

Already wasting enough time, her schedule forces her to gather her things and rush out the door, the unread note stuffed in her pocket, her heartbeat pounding in her ears with each heavy step she takes towards the subway.

He’s leaving. You made him uncomfortable.

The moment she finds an empty seat on the train, she uses all the tricks to slow her breath and ease the stitch in her chest. Her anxiety is getting the best of her, not letting her think straight, causing her to feel as if she’s already living her worst nightmare.

Knowing she can’t wait until she’s at work, she wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs, the linen of her pants soaking up her nerves.

Bucky wouldn’t deliver bad news like this. He wouldn’t treat her like she means nothing to him. Deciding not to silently admonish herself for believing he would, she opens the note instead, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Good morning, Sunshine!

Thank you for trusting me to take your picture.

If you ever want to do it again,

just say the word and I’m all yours.

(that goes for anything you want to do together)

I hope you have a great day!

Try not to work too hard,

Bucky

During the 5th reread, she almost misses her stop and shoves the note back in her pocket, planning to look at it at least ten more times today. At least she finally feels like she can breathe again.

Everything’s okay.

Maybe more than okay?

Instead of allowing herself to go down that line of thinking, she’s just happy that she didn’t fuck things up last night. Their friendship is the only thing that matters to her. She can deal with the rest of it later. Or, never.

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The expected thunderstorm arrives earlier than predicted, drenching Sunshine just minutes before she walks in the door. Finding Bucky standing there ready with a towel, her look of annoyance morphs into one of surprise and he grins at her, resisting the urge to wrap her up in his arms.

He’s also ignoring the desire to let his eyes roam, just barely catching a glimpse of the way her wet clothes cling to her body. Bucky wants to peel them off of her, expose every inch of glistening skin, lick up each drop of-.

Sunshine’s movements interrupt his thoughts, the towel mopping up the wetness along her arms as she rushes to her bedroom to change. Brief exchanges of hello, a passing complaint about forgetting her umbrella at work, and he’s suddenly alone again, searching for another towel to dry the floor as he laughs to himself.

This isn’t how he expected their evening to start, but Bucky’s not going to let it faze him. Nothing can ever go exactly as planned, he just needs to make sure Sunshine’s evening isn’t ruined. A little rain might seem inconsequential to him, but it could be her last straw after a stressful day.

Giving her space to dry off and join him when she’s ready, Bucky moves into the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee and look through their cabinets for a snack. Just as he’s planning to prepare more than enough to share with her, the flicker of the lights stops him in his tracks.

The storm is building and there’s a very real possibility they’re going to lose power.

Praying the coffee finishes before they do, Bucky calls out for Sunshine and starts gathering supplies for the impending blackout, tossing everything onto the counter. Flashlights and batteries. Candles and lighters. A portable charger. A charged USB fan from his backpack in case it gets warm.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she says, joining him in the kitchen, eyeing everything he’s managed to find in such a short amount of time.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way his readiness makes her smile, but just as he opens his mouth to respond, fate steps in, reminding them who’s in charge, and they’re engulfed in darkness.

Sunshine’s soft, exasperated “well fuck me” seems to echo throughout the suddenly quiet apartment and straight to Bucky’s brain, threatening to send him into a spiral of dirty thoughts. All he can do is break into a fit of laughter to join hers, the exhilarating sound filling him with contentment.

Whatever happens tonight, it’ll only bring them closer.

A few minutes later, the soft glow of the lit candles creating an unintentional romantic atmosphere, Bucky joins Sunshine on the couch, setting her bong and glass container of weed carefully on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight furrow to her brow, but she’s laughing, as if she’s hoping for another rare night where he joins her.

It hadn’t been his plan - wanting to be as clear headed as he could be tonight - but, the look she’s giving him has him throwing away every last shred of the plan. None of this has gone the way he thought it would, so he may as well go with the flow.

“I dunno about you,” he grins, pulling his legs underneath him to turn towards her, giving her his full attention, “but I’d love nothing more than to get high and play some cards with you.” Producing a deck of cards from his jeans, her smile grows and he watches a bit of the stress from her day melt away.

Bucky may not know everything about Sunshine, but he’s paid attention long enough to know what she needs during moments like this.

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Bucky’s note was the highlight of her day, everything going downhill after that. Meetings that should have been emails. Unnecessary, awkward social interactions. The looming promise of a mid-year review. The only thing she wanted to do after work was come home, get stoned, and find something to distract her brain for a bit.

None of her usual choices are options now that they’ve lost power, and the fact that Bucky seems to understand without her having to say a word makes last night come rushing back. Even if there hadn’t been any flirting, it’s obvious that he cares about her, and not just on a surface level. That’s what she needs to be focusing on, not the delusional hope of having more with him.

The weed helps, encouraging her to relax and enjoy the moment with Bucky, the occasional dirty thought quickly brushed away. The usual anxiety and insecurities that are known to plague her are quieted, and soon she’s having too much fun laughing and joking with him to worry about anything else.

She doesn’t even mind when the joking turns into more serious conversations, the topic soon approaching dangerous territory: childhood and family. She listens with rapt attention while Bucky recounts the tale of how he and Steve met the summer before junior year of high school.

“I had just gotten my license,” he explains, glancing at his cards to decide his next play, “and was driving my mom’s old station wagon home from a friend’s when a guy blew through a stop sign, hit my passenger side and spun my car straight into a tree.”

She gasps and her eyes widen, her mind suddenly filled with horrible images of teenage Bucky hurt and in pain, but she’s too invested in the story to verbalize any thought or question, her own cards held tightly in her hands.

Not letting the tension build, Bucky’s quick to tell her, “I was lucky, but the tree put up a pretty good fight.” She watches as he pulls up his short sleeve to show her a faint scar above his left bicep, the thin line snaking around his arm and up underneath his shirt.

Using the excuse that the candles aren’t providing enough light, she leans in to get a better look, the couch dipping between them as she ignores the part of her brain telling her to touch him. The absurd thought is almost enough to make her laugh, but she covers it up with a soft clearing of her throat and settles back, meeting his gaze to say, “Please don’t tell me Steve was the guy who ran the stop sign.”

Easing any worries starting to grow, Bucky grins and shakes his head. “Of course not. The hospital was busy, so I ended up with a roommate.” The bright smile on his face tells her everything she needs to know, and she laughs when he confirms it. “Steve and I immediately butted heads, and then became inseparable. It didn’t take long for my parents to basically adopt him as their own, and right before 11th grade ended, they invited him to move in with us like it was nothing.”

After everything Bucky’s told her about his parents, she’s not surprised, but she’s unable to stop herself from blurting out, “Wow. Your family is a lot different than mine.” She’s still laughing when she says it, but that familiar feeling of being too vulnerable threatens to rear its ugly head.

For the first time, and not just because of the weed, she dismisses the fear, suddenly wanting nothing more than to share more of herself with Bucky. She’s kept so many things safely hidden, unsure of how he might react, or how it would change things between them. They just started to truly be comfortable with each other, and while she’s scared of erasing all that progress, the need for more of a connection with him is too great.

As if reading her mind, Bucky gently says, “I know not everyone is fortunate enough to have parents like I do.” He pauses to take his turn in the card game, then adds with a smile, “So while I might not be able to truly understand, I’d still like to try.”

Taking a moment to consider her next play, her eyes focused on her cards, she casually begins with, “My parents are the complete opposite of yours.” A glance up to see that Bucky’s attention is only on her has a tingle of excitement settling over her, a complete contrast to the usual jolt of worry and nausea she feels during these conversations. “Distant. Cold. Selfish. I think they call it ‘emotionally immature’ or something.”

Putting her cards face-down in front of her, she finally meets his eyes again, seeing nothing but sympathy staring back at her. There’s no pity, no look as if she’s suddenly broken. It encourages her to keep going, to share more of herself with him.

Giving him a slight shrug and a soft exhale of a laugh, she explains, “Basically, they didn’t know how to be parents or care enough to even try. Other than meeting our physical needs - roof over our head, food in the fridge - it was like living with complete strangers. But hey, it’s probably why I’m so good at living with roommates.”

“Jesus,” Bucky laughs, shaking his head at her. Her dark humor has a way of catching people off guard, but it’s obvious that he’s not just laughing to placate her. He genuinely seems to appreciate her jokes, even the ‘inappropriate’ ones.

“It’s true!” Her growing smile only seems to make him laugh more and she shrugs innocently, their attention on each other, the game now paused. “But, it’s also why I struggle at communicating and expect the worst in every situation.”

Bucky nods in understanding, a soft smile on his face. When his tongue flicks out to wet his lips, she can’t even resist glancing at his mouth before meeting his gaze again, her cheeks growing warm. With just a hint of knowing smile, he says, “It’s why I left you the note this morning. I figured there might be a little stressing out, and I wanted to try to help if I could.”

“You did.”

This time when their eyes connect, she doesn’t forget how to breathe, despite the dazzling smile suddenly lighting up his face. Her heart still skips a beat, but her body stays relaxed enough for her to take in a slow, deep breath.

As her lungs fill, warmth spreads throughout her body, and that deep yearning returns. That longing for connection and intimacy, to be loved and cared for by someone. It’s the only reason she has for what comes out of her mouth next.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anything.” He says it so quickly and with such conviction that she actually believes it. For right now, in this moment, she trusts that she can tell him anything and it won’t be ‘too much’ or make him treat her differently.

She still doesn’t find the words until after she takes a much needed sip of water, keeping the sweating bottle in her grip to occupy her hands. “Sometimes I worry that I’m too fucked up for a relationship. That no one can handle all the things wrong with me.”

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This isn’t how Bucky wanted to get to this information, but he’s still grateful to learn that Sunshine isn’t necessarily single on purpose. Despite her sadness, it gives him a spark of hope that this is the invitation he’s been waiting for.

Treading carefully, he slowly shakes his head to disagree, telling her, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

His words make her laugh, but he takes it in stride, letting her speak her piece, listening to her list all the things she views as ‘wrong’ about herself. Her anxiety, her insecurities, her intrusive thoughts, her lack of family and inability to trust people.

Once she pauses, Bucky leans forward, not caring when their cards slide along the couch cushion, mixing together. What she needs to hear is more important than anything else. “Those are things you struggle with.”

With another soft laugh, she replies, “It’s the same thing.”

“No, Sunshine, it’s not.” Bucky’s smile fades slightly, giving her a glimpse into his serious side, desperate for her to understand how he views her.

There's nothing wrong with her and she's not broken.

He can see the emotion growing behind her eyes, the familiar ache to pull away, to break the silence with a joke. Bucky expects it, and he won’t fight her on it, but he doesn’t encourage it this time. He stands his ground, holding her gaze, an understanding smile gracing his face as he waits for her.

“You don’t understand.”

It comes out as a whisper, barely audible, but the apartment’s still quiet, save for the lingering noise of the fading storm coming in through the open window, and the slight hum of the battery-powered fan keeping them relatively cool.

There’s more to Sunshine’s story. Something from her past that makes her believe she’s not worth someone’s time and effort to learn how to love her. It makes him itch to hold her, to physically comfort her in whatever way she’ll allow.

They’re not quite there yet, so all he can do is encourage her to tell him, then he’ll be able to prove to her that she’s wrong.

“Whatever it is, it still doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

The soft sigh that leaves Sunshine tells him she’s ready to divulge more information and he grows quiet, watching her gather the forgotten cards into a neat pile. “My parents weren’t the only fucked up people in my family.”

This isn’t a time for assumptions, but wherever this is going, Bucky’s chest is already starting to ache, silently taking in how her trembling hands reach to load a new bowl. They’re both high as kites, but if it’s what she needs to tell him more of her secrets, he’s not going to question it or shame her.

After a large hit that she almost struggles with, she starts over, telling him, “When I was in high school, I started spending a lot of time at my aunt’s house, while my parents worked.”

She pauses yet again, this time to offer him a hit, as if grasping for the last bit of distraction she can find to delay this.

But Bucky doesn't provide her one, politely declining and offering her a soft smile when she teases, “Ya sure? It’s not an easy story. It might help you relax.”

He doesn’t need her to comfort him or make this easier to digest. Bucky wants all of her, especially the parts that she's been taught to believe aren't worth knowing. Carefully placing the bong back on the coffee table, he says, “I’m sure, Sunshine. I promise, it’s okay.”

An audible swallow, a slow nod of her head, and then a deep, steadying breath. Maybe he is starting to get through to her.

Gently clearing her throat, she explains, “I spent a lot of time at my aunt’s house, while my parents worked, and…”

She briefly glances at him again, smiling at the encouraging nod he gives her, before finally allowing her confession to come out. “My older cousin still lived there and he started… paying attention to me.” A nonchalant shrug, and then the words that make Bucky’s stomach drop, “Inappropriate comments turned into unwanted touching.” As if she needs to defend herself, she adds, “I didn’t know what to do. No one had ever talked to me about that stuff.”

“Sunshine,” Bucky says, the urgency in his voice begging her to keep looking at him. It takes her a moment, but when she does, the fear is palpable, the emotion clear in her eyes. “I don’t care if someone gave you step-by-step instructions and you still didn’t know what to do. None of the blame falls on you.”

She blinks back the unshed tears and nods her head, but still tries to dismiss it all with a shrug of her shoulders. “It took me a while to finally tell someone - a teacher at school - and when my family found out, they all just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. My parents were more mad that I got the school and the police involved than they were about anything else.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to hold back the emotion, the anger and sadness threatening to well up inside of him. Thoughts of wanting to find her family and enact some sort of revenge on every single one that caused Sunshine pain. It’s not his responsibility to fix this, but he sure as hell can ease some of her concerns.

“I know there’s nothing I can say that can make up for your shitty family, but I am proud of you, and I am so glad that none of them get to see the amazing person you are today.”

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She wants to cry. She wants to hug him. She wants to trauma-dump and have him console her. But, she’s not ready for any of that right now, no matter how much she feels like she can suddenly trust him.

There have been countless times where she’s shared this secret with someone and it’s backfired. Caused rifts and awkward exchanges. Reduced a friendship or relationship to nothing but innocent jokes and weird looks during conversations about intimacy and sex.

The way Bucky is looking at her doesn’t give her any anxiety about their future. She feels seen and heard, and extremely hopeful that things aren’t going to change between them. It allows her to be comfortable enough to remind him again that she’s scared of what her prospects are.

“Now you get it,” she tells him with a smile, offering out her hand like there’s nothing else for her to explain. “No one in their right mind is ever going to want to date me and deal with all my issues.”

“That's not true."

That conviction in Bucky's voice is still there, but it does nothing to prepare her for what he promises next.

"I definitely do.”

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papercorgiworld · 8 months ago

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Pansy’s Prediction

After finding out you might not be so innocent the guys make their move. Pansy's prediction: eventually you’ll give in.

Pick your guy Blaise, Mattheo, Draco or Theo+Enzo

This is part two. Read part one here: Pansy’s Potion.

Warning: smut, 18+

Yes, you read that right Theo and Enzo are a package deal. Funny how a few weeks ago I couldn’t manage to write a threesome for Matt and Enzo, but now suddenly my brain is like: here’s a random Theo and Enzo threesome. I guess it’s because my brain thinks those two are just incredibly slutty. Anyway, for Blaise, Draco and Mattheo it’s just ‘average’ smut, I mean nothing too unholy, okay with Draco it’s kinda public soo yeahhh. Smutty readings, dears!

If you read all four scenario's you get a cookie, bc this is 6900+ words of smut!

You make a formal apology and the guys are so annoyed with you. “I was not myself and I promise it will never happen again, I will not in any way behave like I did yesterday evening. I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me, so we can go back to how it was before.” Pansy’s grinning eyes move between you and the boys. You drive them crazy and then you just want to pretend like you don’t want them. You stare at them nervously waiting for a response and Blaise is the one that ends your suffering by speaking up, though his voice is hesitant. “Suuure.” Enzo nods with his lips in an awkward line. You wanna leave the room so you make peace with only Enzo and Blaise recognizing your apology and quickly say goodbye.

As soon as you leave the common room the boys openly show their annoyance. “An apology?” Enzo asks offended and Pansy snickers. “Yeah, sorry guys. She’s back to pretending she’s an innocent good girl.” Draco huffs. “No fair.” Theodore lets his head fall back a little. “Can’t believe we missed our one and only chance.” Blaise leans forward and focuses on Pansy. “Is there no way to- you know… get the less innocent version back?” Pansy smirks as all boys stare at her with hopeful eyes. “Well, I guess, if you work hard enough for it… she’ll eventually crack, but the only question is who’ll win her over?”

Forget about slutty saturday and sunday, because the guys had a plan and it involved… slutty smonday.

Enzo was cheeky, his hair was more perfect than ever and when he sat down next to you in class his perfume had your mind thinking dirty. His hand would brush your thigh ever so often, but when you looked at him, his eyes were focused on the professor.

Draco was determined, holding doors open for you and carrying your books despite your protests. When he would push a door open for you he would make sure your bodies would touch. In the afternoon he would loosen his tie and his smug smile had you bite your lip.

Theodore was sneaky. During DADA he spotted the perfect opportunity to become your tutor, standing behind you. His warm breath on your neck as his hand slowly traces up your arm to hold your hand in his to guide you through the spell. You learned nothing and blushed like crazy.

Blaise caught you off guard. You were waiting for Pansy in the slytherin common room so you could study together, when Blaise approached you wearing a shirt that showed his perfectly sculpted body. “About this morning…” He began and you looked startled. “You don’t need to worry about what happened, we’re just glad you’re okay.” You force a smile as you try to relax, but a nervous blush still forms on your cheeks. With a sweet smile Blaise moves closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No need to get so shy, I’m here for you.” His voice had you almost falling to your knees, but you’re not giving in and you turn on your heels.

As you turn around, trying to keep composure, Mattheo walks in, wearing grey revealing sweatpants and clearly nothing else. Your eyes widen, moving from his chest to rest on the shape in his pants for a second too long, making him smirk. “You know-” Mattheo starts, voice smug, but you don’t allow him to speak. “No. No. And no.” You say and hurry out of there, leaving Mattheo and Blaise grinning as they watch you. “Oh, she’s close to breaking point.” Blaise says, very pleased, and Mattheo’s grin turns more devilish.

Blaise

As Mattheo is still staring at the door through which you left, Blaise spots one of your books and instantly a smirk forms on his lips. Oh, you’ll be back and I’ll be here for you. After a few seconds of staring and silly comments Mattheo puts on a sweatshirt and heads for the astronomy tower. Satisfied with the situation, Blaise lets himself fall on the couch, holding your book as he focuses on the door you’ll be walking through any minute.

Still flustered, you walk in and notice Blaise flipping through the pages of your book. “Quite interesting.” He says and you reach for the book, but Blaise holds it back forcing you to lean a little bit over him as he still lounges on the sofa. You groan and reach for the book giving Blaise the perfect opportunity to move his hand over your thigh. You feel your whole body heat up and move away a little, but Blaise grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him. You yelp and he smirks, satisfied with the position he’s got you in. “Stop playing, Zabini. Give me my book. I need it for studying.” He laughs and wraps an arm around you, telling you he doesn’t intend on letting you go. “You need it for studying?” He mocks and you narrow your eyes. “How about I help you study? Everyone's gone, we have my dorm all to ourselves.” His eyes are teasing and his tongue hungerly moves over his bottom lip. You can’t help but drown in his eyes as your mind wonders what it would be like to be alone with him.

Blaise lets the book fall to the floor so his hand can move to your hips as he still holds you close to his chest. “No one needs to know. It can be our little dirty secret.” He whispers as his fingers play with your skirt, pulling the fabric higher. The fact that you’re still resting on top of him tells him enough and he pushes on a little. “Let me take care of you, princess.” He whispers seductively, his lips brushing your ear moving to your cheek. “If you want you can pretend afterwards no none of it happened.” His lips brush yours and instead of pulling away like the smart girl in you wished you would do, you move with his lips allowing him to kiss you tenderly.

Quick enough a hand moves to the back of your head holding you as he deepens the kiss. When the sloppy kiss turns too heated, Blaise pulls away. “Let’s go study.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and you push yourself up allowing him to get up and guide you to his dorm. Once there you get cold feet as Blaise locks the door and you quickly turn around to face him. ”Maybe this was a mista-” You fall silent as Blaise pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect body. A smug smile tugs on his lips as he lets his shirt fall to the floor and moves closer to you. His suggestive eyes meet yours and you let him close the distance between you two. “Still having second thoughts?” He whispers teasingly, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips as his hands roam your back, hips and ass.

While kissing you passionately, he picks you up and instinctively you wrap your legs around him. He walks you over to his bed, gently laying you down before tracing kisses down your neck while undoing the buttons of your shirt. Hands exploring your chest and earning a sweet moan from you as you lay on his bed enjoying his hands and lips moving along your skin. With his mouth teasing your nipples his hands wiggle your skirt and panties down, before moving his tongue to your bellybutton and kissing down to your pussy.

You squirm as his kisses close in on your bare cunt, but Blaise shushes you and his hands stroke your thighs making you moan involuntarily. You can feel his smirk against your skin and you bite your lips to keep yourself quiet not wanting to show how sensitive to his touch you really are. However, your efforts are pointless when he kisses your folds and inserts a finger, instantly making you grip the sheets as pleasure rushes through you. You had no idea how badly you needed this man until now. You bite down on your lips to muffle the desperate sounds that escape you. “Blaise-” You softly whine as a weak protest as he plays with your sensitive cunt. Needing more of his touch you hesitantly move your hips and he eagerly gets rougher, making you squirm again and forcing him to hold you still. His hand reaches for one of yours, still clinging to the sheets. He entangles his free hand with yours showing you love while forcing an orgasm onto you by fucking your pussy with his fingers and tongue.

You arch your back as you softly cry his name, unable to control yourself as you climax with his mouth still working your soaking cunt hard. “Look at that.” Blaise whispers, grinning as he crawls over you, leaving sloppy kisses on your breasts before meeting your lips. “You got there fast. You must’ve really needed it.” His eyes smugly search to meet yours, but as soon as they do you look away. You were not in the mood for slytherin arrogance. Your hand traces down to the bulge in his pants. “I bet you really need it as well.” You whimper as he kisses the sweet spot of your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll sling your legs over my shoulder and I’ll let your perfectly wet pussy take care of me.” His words have you roll your eyes and arch your back as he sucks at your neck, while unbuckling his belt with one hand.

A cry that almost sounded like yelp escapes you at the size of he reveals and your whole body heats up as his grinning eyes look up at you. “Way to boost a guy’s confidence.” Blaise jokes and you’re ready to hide out of embarrassment. His large hands move up and down your thighs as he takes a good position between your legs. Your body tenses as his length sinks into your cunt, his eyes are focused on your entrance and a smirk spreads on his lips as he sees you take all of him. A soft gasp from you causes him to shift his gaze at you and you meet his eyes. He smirks at your flustered face and parted lips. He could see in your eyes and in every expression that you loved the feeling of him inside of you. He leans down to peck your lips and your hand traces his torso, making him smile lovingly at your touch.

“Tell me what you need, darling.” His low whisper as your cunt throbbing and your head spinning. You shake your head, reluctant to sound like a needy girl. The smirk on his face grows filthy and his hand moves up and down your thigh. Getting impatient for an answer since his dick was painfully hard Blaise moves his lips to your ear. “Do you want me to fold you and fuck you?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his guttural voice. When Blaise locks his eyes with yours you sheepishly nod, but that doesn’t do it. “Talk to me baby.” He demands and his hand moves to play with your nipple rather roughly as punishment for not answering his question and you gasp. “Fuck me, Blaise, please fuck me.” You whine and he takes in the view and your words for a moment, before he moves your legs to rest on his shoulder and grabs your hips.

His thrusts are deep and he grunts at the wonderful feeling your walls provide, increasing his pace as a reward for having such a wonderful cunt. Your mouth hangs agape as your stomach fills with pleasure and your mind gets hazy as Blaise pushes you towards your climax. Being in perfect shape Blaise holds a steady pace for quite some time, but he knows you're close and he himself is desperate to cum with you. Like having your knees almost pressed to your chest was enough, Blaise rests a hand on your belly increasing the pressure as he thrusts deep into you. Sure other people knew what was going on by the sounds coming from the room, his hips slamming against yours, you crying his name as you cling to his biceps and Blaise’s heavy grunts as he feels himself lose control. A painful cry escapes you as your orgasm hits you and your clenching walls have Blaise spill and almost immediately collapse on you. “Fuck, you’re something else.” Blaise breaths and your watery eyes meet his, he made you feel like a goddess in more than one way.

Carefully Blaise slips out of you, before grabbing some tissues for the both of you and falling down next to you on the bed. “Our little dirty secret, right?” You ask Blaise, referring to what he had said earlier. Blaise smiles at the ceiling and then rolls over to face you. “Yeah.” He cups your cheek and pecks your lips. “You’re my dirty little secret.” No way this was going to be a one time thing.

Mattheo

Still flustered, you curse yourself when you realise that you forgot your book. For several seconds you contemplate on whether to go back or just give up on your plans to study tonight. However, you really wanted to revise your material before tomorrow's class so reluctantly you turned around heading back to the slytherin common room. You are almost there when you suddenly hear Mattheo’s smug voice. “Change your mind?” Immediately your face heats up, he still hadn’t bothered to dress properly and it bothered you in more than one way. Smirking, Mattheo approaches your nervous figure. “I- I forgot my book.” You finally manage to say and Mattheo nods, far from impressed by your answer. “Sure, that’s all you want?” His eyes suggestively scan you from head to toe, before resting on your lips. Your chest heaves as your mind runs crazy with all things you really want, but you nod. “Just my book.” You bravely, but calmly say.

Mattheo watches you for a second and you have no idea what’s going on in his mind, but suddenly he pushes you against a door of a broom closet. “I don’t believe you.” He whispers, agitated and obviously hungry for you. You gasp as your back collides with the door, giving him the opportunity to crash his lips onto yours and move his tongue to dominate yours, while simultaneously opening the door and pushing into the privacy of the broom closet. “I think you want me as badly as I want you.” You hold onto the shelves behind you for stability as Mattheo grinds his dick between your legs while aggressively kissing and sucking your lips. One hand kneading your breast as his other hand has a firm hold of your thigh, so you have one leg wrapped around his hips, giving him perfect access to rub his hardening member against your pussy. Your breaths get unsteady and you stop resisting the moment, allowing your hand to rest on his bare chest as the other entangles with his pretty curls, while he bruises your neck with hungry kisses. Vocal moans of pure pleasure escape you as Mattheo plays with every sweet spot your body has.

“I need you noisy.” Mattheo breathes, pulling away from your neck to ravish your mouth and making you moan against his lips. You can feel him smirk against your lips and as much as you hate it, it turns you on even more. You try to subtly buck your hips against his demanding more friction, but the gentle move doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re far from innocent. Do you want me to fuck you?” Mattheo’s voice is filthy, he’s so pleased to have you needing him. “Tell me, do you want me, love? Do you want me to have my way with you?” His husky whisper and hot breath on your skin has you whimper and cling to his neck, eyes needy and drowning in his. You nod. “Please.” You whisper and as much as Mattheo wants you to say it again, louder or even scream it and beg for it, he himself is too desperate to tease and taunt.

“Be a good girl and let me hear you.” He whispers, lips against your ear before getting to his knees, eyes never leaving yours. His hands move up your legs, slowly, and still his eyes stay locked with yours. He wants to see everything that you feel, every sensation that runs through you. You make a soft sound when his hands move up your thighs and reach your panties. Anticipation fills you as he pulls them down slowly, while he leaves gentle kisses up your thighs closing in to your cunt. Another moan slips as your whole body tenses at Mattheo’s soft lips only inches/centimetres away from your desperate entrance. “Please.” You moan when you get impatient, purposely sounding as needy as possible knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist. And you were right, if you beg and sound as sweet as you do, Mattheo is more than willing to comply. His mouth moves between your legs, tongue slipping through your folds, hands grabbing onto you to keep you from squirming when he digs in hard, tongue playing with your clit.

He wanted you noisy, he needed you to come for him. To him it was like his pride depended on it. So there was nothing sweet about how he works your sensitive throbbing cunt, he was mercilessly devouring you while getting rock hard at every moan or whimper that filled the room. When you feel yourself get closer your legs get shaky and your breaths unsteady, making him take full control of your body pressing you against his face and making you yelp as his tongue flicks at your sensitive spot. That desperate sound makes Mattheo moan against your pussy. That groan of a moan has you throw your head back and give in to all the feelings building up, whining as Mattheo tastes your juices not giving you a moment's rest. He loved how messy he had gotten you, the usually so perfect behaving girl.

Part of you was relieved when he moved away, allowing you to breathe, but you miss his touch quickly and your eyes look soft, but still sparkle enough to make Mattheo grin. His dick was painfully hard and seeing you out of breath but still in need, made him almost spill in his pants. He was over the moon that he could fuck you right here and now, but he wouldn’t let you see how overjoyed he was and kept a filthy smirk up. “I want you naked.” He demands eyes locked with yours as his hand moves to his sweatpants. His demanding voice bothers you but you want his touch and you want his dick. Your eyes fall to his hard cock, clearly visible through the fabric, and without meeting his eyes you slip off your clothes as Mattheo watches, touching himself.

Now fully naked, Mattheo closes the distance between you two and rests his head against yours. “Fuck, you’re gorgious.” He breaths, voice dominant and yet adoring. He drops his pants revealing his size, pumping himself a few times and soaking his hand in precum. You spread your legs a little, resting against the shelves of the small broom closet as Mattheo grabs your thigh, lifting you as he lets his tip explore your soaking folds. You throw your head back at his perfect touch and he groans at the feeling and the view. The moment is intimate as Mattheo is gentle, almost careful, with you when he moves deep inside of you, stretching your walls and making you whimper. He watches your every expression as he keeps on pushing until he’s settled deep. A soft breath leaves you and he feels himself fall in love with your perfection. He leans closer his free hand cupping your face and kissing you tenderly.

However, Mattheo's eyes quickly move to your chest and then lower to your pussy filled by him. His hands grips the flesh of your ass, so he has a firm hold on you. His hard grip has you gasp and a smirk tugs on Mattheo’s lips as he starts rocking slowly and ever so gently increasing the pace, making sure you get maximum pleasure from every thrust. You cling to the shelves behind you when Mattheo gets rougher, stretching you deep and hitting you right. “You need this, you want this so bad, don’t you?” His voice is dirty and he doesn’t just move, he’s so consumed by the moment that he starts slamming you on him. Your eyes scan his sweaty and panting body as he works so hard to give you all of him. “Mattheo.” You breathe in between soft blissful moans and his eyes shoot up to yours, dark and having you guessing what he’s thinking. “Again.” He whispers as a gentle demand and you comply, doing your best to move your hips with him as you allow yourself to shamelessly moan his name, turning him on even more. You were becoming too much to handle for him. He almost felt the urge to beg for you to come or even to just allow him to come. Luckily for him, your shameless moans reveal how close you are to your orgasm.

“Matt- ah- I’m so-” He doesn’t let you finish as your voice pushes him too close and he starts pounding into you even harder. “That’s okay, love, come- fuck, please.” He can’t believe he actually begged. He’s a mess and so are you and almost simultaneously you reach your high. Panting, he lets himself fall against you and holds your unstable body as he slips out of you, making you hide your face in the crook of his neck. For several minutes your naked bodies just stay entangled in one another, enjoying the pleasure rush through your body. Slowly, you feel Mattheo’s smirk grow against your cheek. “There’s no denying it now. You want this and you need me.” You ignore his arrogant tone and just continue to rest your arms around his neck and his around your body. “Just admit it, so I can take care of you and we can freshen up together.” Mattheo kisses your cheek softly. “Must you gloat like this?” You huff, still hiding your flustered face and he smiles. “Yes.” God, you loved that raspy, smug voice of his. Neither of you were ready to admit it, but you were down bad for each other.

For Drace, Theodore and Enzo continue reading here

You had apologised and then made it your mission to avoid them for the rest of the day. Despite the guys' attempts, you had kept your composure pretty good. However, Snape was about to ruin it.

“Out of all the people Snape could’ve paired me with…him.” Pansy snorts at your complaint. “Might get interesting…” Her smile and eyes are devilish and you instantly get more worried than you already were.

Draco

It was late and you were not in the mood for more of Draco’s smugness, but there was no escaping Snape’s project so you headed for the library to meet Draco. It took you a while to find him since he had picked a secluded spot on the first floor of the library. He wasn’t wearing his tie anymore, his hair was a little messy and shirt was partly unbuttoned. He had obviously already done some of the work since he was surrounded by books on the topic. When he noticed you approaching, a bright smile tugged on his lips and you rolled your eyes. When he noticed that he just couldn’t keep quiet. “Not as excited to see me as you were yesterday?”

You took a seat opposite of him and stared at him unamused trying to play tough and not get flustered. “You’ve done some work already?” You ask, changing the subject and gesturing to the books. “Yes, I was hoping if we get it done quickly we can have another dance, I did love the way you moved last night.” This time you try to look stern, but fail, feeling too embarrassed about how you had thrown yourself at him. Clearly remember now how you grinded against him in the middle of the dance floor. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it, I said I loved it.” He gets up from his chair and you open one of the books to avoid his gaze. “Let’s just focus on the assignment, okay.” You mutter and Draco can’t help but think you’re adorable, blushing and muttering.

He sits down next to you, but you pretend to read the page in front of you while Draco studies your face. You feel his breath on your cheek as he leans closer to your ear. “And what if I told you, I had already finished it.” His whisper makes you look up at him and suddenly you feel his hand on your thigh. “Draco-” You protest with a soft voice, but Draco ignores it and crashes his lips against yours. His tongue moves over your bottom lip begging for entrance and instinctively you give in to him, simultaneously encouraging him to move his hand on your thigh, stroking you gently.

You pull away after a moment, but Draco’s lips follow you, his nose brushing yours and eyes locked with yours. “This- I- We can’t.” You whisper barely audible and Draco notices your face head up like crazy. His hand moves under your skirt and you gasp, allowing him to sneak in his tongue and kiss you with eager passion. “We can, you just have to keep quiet.” Draco whispers and you feel his hand tug your panties, but instead of protesting you lean closer to him and kiss him hungrily. He moves one finger slowly through your folds, teasing, while his free hand holds your head to deepen the breathless kiss. However, he doesn’t tease long and you feel him mercilessly exploring your pussy and adding another finger to stretch you. You pull your lips away and gulp as he circles your sensitive clit and his mouth urgently finds yours again to keep you quiet.

Though there weren’t a lot of people that could hear you, Draco knew well enough it only needed to be heard by one to have the entire school know what you two were up to in the library late at night. Mattheo or Theo probably wouldn’t have cared, but Draco respected and maybe even loved you too much to have your reputation ruined by something like this. Yet he wasn’t going to stop playing with you either, he just had to keep you quiet. When you feel yourself get closer at the pace of his fingers moving you hide your face in his neck, softly biting the flesh of his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning, only whimpering softly. Never had Draco had someone so pretty and perfect cling so desperately to him and he loved it as much as it aroused him, making a deep moan roll over his lips as he rested his head against yours.

You did not know how turned on you could get by a man, until you heard Draco moan like that. In an instant you decided that his fingers weren’t enough. Without thinking about the location you were in, you look up at Draco, eyes needy for him. “I want to sit on your cock.” You whisper and his eyes widen at your blunt suggestion, did he really hear you say that? With his lips parted in shock he nods, leaning back a bit to give you space to move out of your seat. As you get up Draco unbuckles his belt still staring at you in disbelief, but also eager to move his pants down and reveal his hard dick to you. He wanted you so bad and he was about to have you. Blushing and still a little shy you look at his hard member, feeling your pussy throb at the side of his size.

Slowly and a little insecure about the whole situation while also so desperate to have him deep inside of you, you rest one hand on his shoulder and straddle him. Your free hand moves your panties to the side and Draco holds his size, guiding it inside of you as you sink down on him. “Fuck. You’re-” You interrupt him by placing a finger on his lips to remind him that in a library you have to be quiet. His hand moves to the back of your head and he pulls you in for a tender but intense kiss.

In an attempt to stay quiet you decide to move slowly, making the moment between you two more intimate. Watching you throw your head back and bite your lip as you ride him slowly but hard has Draco’s fingers digging into your hips as he feels himself get closer really quickly. Shamelessly you grind on his dick, pleasing yourself with every move you make, while simultaneously enjoying Draco’s hungry eyes on you.

You both struggle to reduce your moans to soft whimpers, but as you reach your high your eyes get teary as you're forced to keep quiet. Draco notices and crashes his lips onto yours for a sloppy and needy kiss as he bucks his dick a few times, hitting your soft spot hard and deep, pushing you over the edge. Soft cries get muffled by Draco’s hungry kiss. Your walls clench around Draco’s cock and he continues to thrust into you, less and less worried about the sounds others might hear. Soon enough he cums, slamming himself deep inside of you and wrapping his arms around you as you both enjoy the ecstasy of your orgasm. After several minutes of panting in each other's arms, Draco gives you a soft kiss on your temple. “Not that I would mind being seen with you, but I think we should pack up and maybe head to a room, mine or yours.” You chuckle, still not really believing what had just happened, what you had done… with Draco Malfoy of all people. “We need to finish our potions project.” You blur out as your mind starts to focus on reality again. Draco cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, I did all the work so you just have to put your name on it.” You frown at his words and he smirks. “Don’t worry about it, you did your part by doing all the other work.” You roll your eyes at his suggestive comment, but when his lips search for yours you meet him for a sweet kiss.

Theodore + Enzo

“Enzo!” Theodore yells as Enzo walks in wearing only a towel. “What are you doing here? (y/n) will be here any moment.” Enzo fakes a surprised look. “Oh! No! I totally forgot about that.” Theodore grits his teeth, seeing through Enzo’s little act. “You sneaky bastard, you are not stealing this opportunity. Snape partnered her up with me, this is ‘my’ chance to win her over.” Lorenzo stops acting innocent and grins. “Worried this will steal your potions partner away from you.” He gestures at his toned body and low hanging towel, making Theodore roll his eyes at his friend.

Just then you knock at the door. “Yes.” Enzo says one split second before Theodore says “No!”. Angry eyes shoot up to Enzo, but there’s no time for Theo to do anything about Enzo’s presence now as you open the door. Your eyes immediately land on the half naked Enzo grinning at you and you narrow your eyes in confusion. Theodore loses his mind when he notices you only have eyes for Enzo and in a desperate attempt to make you look away he takes off his shirt and his plan works because now your eyes are on him, which makes Theo smirk, proud of his genius.

“Yeah. Not happening.�� You say and turn around, making both guys panic. “No, no.” Theodore says as he closes the door before you reach it. He leans against the door and you watch him with stern eyes, but it’s Enzo who speaks. “Look the deal was you drank the potion to sober up and we do whatever you want.” You don’t turn around to look at Enzo, but just stare at the doorknob. Theodore closes the distance between you two, leaving no space between you two. “It’s okay to want it, we’ll be good to you.” His hands cup your face and make you look up at him, eyes locking so there’s no escaping the truth. Enzo holds his breath as he can feel himself get way too excited at the thought of the both of them actually having you.

You don’t answer, but you make no move to leave and that’s enough for them to know you want it as bad as they want it. Enzo moves to stand behind you. Shameless pressing his hard dick against you, hands move over your hips to your thighs. “Kiss him.” Enzo says and Theo leans in, knowing you’ll obey. The kiss is passionate and Theo’s tongue is eager to dominate, while Enzo’s hand slips between your thighs and pushes your panties aside, making you hold onto Theo’s shoulders for support. You moan as Enzo’s finger moves between your folds and Theodore allows you to breathe for a second to take in the view before his hands move under your shirt to knead your breasts. As soon as another helpless moan leaves you his lips are on yours again.

Meanwhile Enzo’s fingers don’t stop playing with your clit as he rubs his hard dick against you. “Tell us, what did you want us to do last night?” Theo whispers, intense eyes focused on yours. You hesitate and Theodore brushes your cheek, while Enzo presses himself closer to you. “Tell us, sweetheart.” Enzo whispers. You’re not brave enough to use your words but your eyes and hand move down to the bulge in Theodore’s pants and he smirks. Enzo’s hand leaves you and Theodore takes a step away from you, unbuckling his pants, making you whimper at the sight of his large size. Enzo still stands behind you with an arm around you as you watch Theodore sit on his bed and jerk his hard member. Enzo kisses your neck, while working on the buttons of your shirt, before getting impatient and just tearing your shirt off. You moan and throw your head back as Enzo takes off your bra and plays with your breasts, while Theo watches, eyes hungry. Fuck, you’re a view.

“If you suck him nice and good, I’ll take care of that desperate pussy of yours.” Enzo’s fingers play with your nipple earning him a whiny moan and taking that as yes to his proposition. Theodore moves on the bed as Enzo guides you towards his friend. Theodore reaches for you, kissing you and cupping your breasts as you crawl on the bed with Enzo right behind you, his hand moving under your skirt and squeezing your ass. Theodore’s fingers entangle with your hair and move your head down to his cock, while Enzo has a firm grip on your hips keeping your ass up so he can easily snake a hand between your legs. Your throbbing clit is victim to Enzo’s endless teasing and playing as you do your best to take as much of Theodore's length as you can, while Theo’s free hand rubs your nipple between his fingers.

It only takes seconds to turn you into a whimpering and moaning mess as both men play with every part of you, overstimulating you. Your walls clench around Enzo’s fingers, soaking them with your juices. As your orgasm runs through you, your eyes get teary and Theodore pulls you away from his dick to kiss you, but Enzo doesn’t stop and you whine into the kiss. “Do you want him to fuck you?” Theo asks and with watery eyes you nod, ignoring your sensitive cunt in favour of your needy core. A filthy smirk spreads on Theodore lips as his eyes drown in your needy ones. “You like being fucked like a doll, played with like your our toy?” Theodore taunts and you whine as Enzo’s fingers leave your pussy. “Such a desperate little girl with a needy pussy. ‘you gonna take me so good.” Enzo says with a dirty sound to his voice that has you look at Theodore, begging for mercy you know you’re not gonna get because they know you don’t really want it. With a hungry force Enzo rips off your skirt and panties.

Theo moves your head back down as your eyes stay focussed on his smirk. Enzo moans as he pumps himself, before lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper with Theo’s dick in your mouth when Enzo pushes himself deep inside of you. You try your best to focus on sucking Theo’s member, but as soon Enzo starts thrusting immediately keeping a steady pace the best you can do is let Theo bob your head and take him deep every time he bucks his hips needing more. Your moans turn to desperate whimpers, signalling to both Slytherins that you’re close to your second orgasm. With haste Theodore starts fucking your mouth searching his own high so he can come with you. It’s Theodore’s breathy moans that push you over the edge, your body squirm as pleasure washes over you and your walls clench around Enzo’s cock. Theo orgasms only seconds after you, leaving cum dripping from your mouth. “So pretty.” Theodore's hoarse voice whispers as his thumb moves over your lip, holding your chin so you meet his eyes, while your pussy is still taking Enzo from behind you. Theo’s eyes look soft as his mind is still hazy from the high he had just felt. Your eyes are glassy as Enzo has you building up to a third orgasm, hitting you right with every thrust, groaning as he struggles to keep a steady pace, feeling the need to spill inside your tight cunt.

“Fuck.” Enzo breathes, taking you harder each time, making your moans sound like desperate cries. “Fuck. She sounds beautiful.” Enzo says with a heavy breath, making Theodore smirk in agreement as he watches you. “Yeah.” Theo whispers watching your flustered face, orgasm building. You're too overwhelmed to notice Theodore’s smirk turn into a filthy grin, before he moves away from you. “Just spill, Enz. I bet she wants both of us to fill her.” Theo’s words make you sink your head into the sheets as you feel your body get more desperate for another release. Mercilessly pounding into you Enzo searches his own high, turning your moans pornographic as his body repeatedly smacks against yours. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Theo jerk himself like a madman watching Enzo fuck you. Out of breath Enzo pushes deep inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum and enjoying your walls clench as he climaxes.

You can already feel Theo’s hand trace your body as Enzo slowly pulls out, leaving your soaked but needy cunt aching for release, but also sensitive and overstimulated. You can’t help but instinctively squirm at Theo’s touch, but when Enzo lets himself fall next to you his soft shiny eyes relax your body. He looks blissful adoring your flustered face and he pulls your face closer to his to passionately kiss you as Theo’s large hands grab the flesh of your asscheeks while aligning his thick cum dripping cock with your throbbing pussy. You bury your head in Enzo’s gentle embrace as Theo pushes you towards another climax. “Salazar, you’re perfect like this.” Enzo whispers in your ear as you make soft noises, while a smirking Theo takes you hard, quickly cumming inside. “Satisfied now that your needy cunt is filled by both of us?” You hear Theo ask with a dirty dominant tone and you squirm closer to Enzo’s soft embrace, too embarrassed that you let both men come inside of you.

Theo leans over you to cover your naked body with a soft blanket, but as vulnerable as you look he can’t help but tease a little more. “Nothing left of that innocent act of yours, you're our little slut now.” You feel Theo’s soft lips place a gentle kiss on your cheek and Enzo squeeze you a little closer, biting his lip still enjoying the wonderful experience.

Requested tags for this one: @lauramjcmanus @whiteoakoak @bri-mercado-00 @adreamingpendulum

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breadvidence · 4 months ago

Text

So, what about Javert makes me want to

Well, Victor Hugo did two impactful things.

He created a character who is both a symbol and a personality. Javert has the impact of representing concepts (surveillance, compliance to authority, policing of social boundaries), of embodying a societal role (the police), and of being a fully drawn individual. As a reader, I am treated to philosophy, politics, and to the entertainment of reading about a little creature whose bizarre brain is a unique and believable invention of how a human being might think and behave. *Slaps roof of Javert* this thing can hold so much contradiction, tragedy, queer erotic energy, comedy, and metaphor. Of course he's one of my favorite characters in literature.

He wrote a novel which asks its reader to deeply engage (among many other things) with redemption and compassion, asks us to believe those things are possible, and he went and did so very fucking well. To be personal, as a bitter drunken cynic whose desire for peace, joy, community is complicated by a deep distrust of people, this novel has told me even if you are scarred, scared, and alone, there is a compassion greater than you, every soul contains a spark, and the future is made of light. Again: there's a lot else going on in these pages, political and religious rather than personal, pragmatic as well as elevated, and I love it for those, too, but I am tired, and this is what makes me feel.

Characters aren't people, and the redemption and compassion Hugo asks us to believe in do not quite apply within a story as they do in life. All the same, what kind of critical reading skills could I claim if I didn't see how he depicts a damped spark in Javert flaring to awful light in epiphany? How could I not understand that Hugo extends compassion even to this figure he has spent an entire novel mocking? Why would I not recognize a depiction of fear?

To ask the initial question again: what makes me want to mash this character like play-doh? Javert's suicide is not a perfect end to the character's arc because it is inevitable or because death is the just desert of a harmful person. It is the perfect end to the arc because it makes me hungry for a different one. So I get all silly about the character in adaptations, I pal around with other people who care about him, I write my little stories in which he fucks Jean Valjean, and I hold space for the critical analysis of what the character is doing as a part of a great novel's moral vision.

#les mis #les misérables #javert #meta #tl;dr as the kids say he is my “blorbo”

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actual-changeling · 10 months ago

Note

Do you think Aziraphale has been verbally, emotionally and psychologically abused by Heaven as well?

I will answer this question like one asked in good faith even though my gut is telling me there's a 50/50 chance it is very much not one.

So!

There are two parts to his answer, or rather one question is actually two.

Firstly, we have to talk about whether heaven is abusive, what that abuse looks like, and how it differs from hell.

Secondly, how did the results of question one affect Aziraphale, if it is different from what the other angels in heaven face, and what additional trauma might he have experienced due to being on earth.

I could write a 10k meta post about this and go into the finest detail, but I will just try and stick to the main points for now. It's still going to be way too long because I am so fucking tired of people accusing me of 'hating' Aziraphale or harassing me on my posts or in my inbox.

Is heaven abusive? Yes, and it applies to both heaven as an institution and the Archangels running it.

Getting to know Muriel and what their life looks like was extremely helpful in properly defining this, because they showed us that although the Archangels tend to travel and work as a group, most of the angels are incredibly isolated.

The result is complete emotional neglect, which not only impairs your ability to form and maintain healthy relationships with other people, it also stops your from learning emotional regulation and how to behave and feel as a part of (angelic) society. We see the consequences of that in Muriel, who comes across as overly naive, socially awkward, and out of touch with not just people but themselves.

When your entire life has been shrunk down to what happens inside your own head, suddenly being confronted with having to live outside of your mind is jarring, overwhelming, and foreign.

How do you talk to people when no one ever taught you how to do that? How do you behave around someone after a lifetime of being alone? How do your regulate your responses to their behaviour?

Who are you when there is someone else to perceive you?

Figuring that out is complicated and it takes time, and while most of the angels are only distantly aware of how humans live and what kind of interactions some of the other angels might have, the effects of that neglect stay the same whether they are aware of it or not.

Muriel shows us that angels are not born/made as a blank slate, and neither are humans for that matter. Tabula rasa as a philosophical belief is one thing, but reality is very, very different.

Angels also appear to have the same inherent need for connection, for a caretaker that loves them unconditionally, for someone to help them figure out how to be, and that provides a safe space to make mistakes. Without some or all of that, you grow up into a disregulated, socially awkward if not inept person who does not know how to have relationships or how to properly exist.

It is one of the reasons why autistic people are a) almost always traumatized to some degree and b) do not know how to socialize. No one ever works with our brains, and the resulting neglect is very similar to not receiving any help at all.

If you are now curious what happens if you're both autistic and were completely socially neglected, the result is uh. me. Hi! Not nice, but at least I am very sure I win the award for being my therapist's most fucked up client, so that's something.

Yet the angels are not solely emotionally neglected, the system/household they live in demands a low self-esteem, a lack of individual identity, and complete adherence to a defined ideology and behavioural pattern. In short, you are told how to be a useless, tiny part in a bigger machine, that your only purpose is to succeed at your tasks, and any opportunity for individual development is removed or destroyed.

If you are now once again curious what that might be like, uh, yeah, hi once more. Obviously my childhood was not exactly like an angels life, but the core characteristics were the same, just realized differently. Again, not pretty, really, really fucks you over.

Take that and the neglect, combine it into one person, and then drop them in the Garden of Eden—hello Aziraphale! Crowley got dropped into hell first, experienced more abuse, and then dug his way up into Eden before joining him.

Aziraphale experienced everything Muriel (and Crowley, and every other celestial being) also experienced, with one main difference: He is the one who got away.

We have to remember that out of every single celestial being, Aziraphale got the best deal. He did not fall, he got out of heaven (more or less) permanently, and was then largely left alone.

Does that erase anything I laid out above? No, of course not!

It simply provided him with the opportunity to heal, to take his cPTSD and who knows what other disorders he developed as a result, and start recovering.

Canonically, heaven did not bother him, like, ever, except for the odd note about 'frivolous miracles' or ten minutes of catching up every millennia. They only started monitoring him once they started to suspect he was involved with Crowley and trying to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Aziraphale worked on some things, he got better in many regards, especially with Crowley there to support him, but after six thousand years, many aspects have stayed the same or regressed back to the start over and over.

I will tell you a hard pill to swallow now: If you refuse to acknowledge your issues to instead live in a world of nicer denial and compartmentalization even when you have been offered the chance to change it, that is partly on YOU.

Is it fair? Fuck no! It's not fair at all, and I have had so many breakdowns over that fact. I did not break it, this is not my FAULT so why should I have to fix it all on my own? Why do I have to do the work, not them? How come they get away with it while I am going to have to carry this for the rest of my life?

I still have to do it though. I have to do the work, no matter how uncomfortable and exhausting, because I want to get better.

This conversation has so many facets and is a lot more complex, but this is already long enough, so if you have any questions or want to know something specific (while asking politely and in good faith) just send me an ask; I will do my best to answer it.

We are now only missing the last part of question 2, and that one is also so fucking complicated reducing it to the main points almost feels wrong, but I will do it anyway. Again, just ask if you have questions.

Abusive households are horrible, and you want to get out and away, but they are also the only thing you know. The world is scary, too big, too open, where did all the rules go that were previously defining your life?

Surviving in an abusive environment means you establish routine after routine after routine for every possible horrible scenario, you write a mental rule book to try and reduce the abuse (don't make them angry, don't cry when they're already shouting, don't do this, don't do that, do x but not y), and THAT is your socialization. THAT is everything you know, everything you are, everything you know relationships to be like.

Once you are away from that, you are completely and utterly lost. Even breathing feels like making a mistake, you feel watched, judged, rated, berated, you have them stuck in your fucking head. So you keep sticking to what you know, your behavioural patterns that have kept you safe your entire life.

The problem is that they kept you safe, past tense. In a healthy environment, all of those coping mechanisms are now maladaptive and harm you instead of keeping you safe.

However, breaking out of them and starting from scratch is terrifying. So, so, so terrifying. I live in constant fear, I feel judged and unsafe in my own flat with the curtains shut and the lights on. I feel like I am about to get subjected to another one of his fits for daring to use the stove.

No matter what you do, your body and brain are SCREAMING at you that diverging from what you know will kill you—and then you have to do it anyway.

Do it alone and afraid and awkwardly but DO IT. Otherwise you will always find a way to recreate the environment you grew up in, whether that is people getting into unhealthy relationships and replicating the patterns they know (which Aziraphale does with Crowley, e.g. the push-pull of his affection) or eventually even returning to it because they ruined you, but a part of you is so, so attached to them you just have to try and change them.

Some people can move on from it without going back, but sometimes you need to try and experience that failure for yourself before being able to move on, and that's where Aziraphale is at.

He needs to try and fail to be capable of finally committing to recovering.

So, to summarize this entire shitshow: Yes, Aziraphale experienced emotional neglect and abuse, and while it is different to what Crowley went through and objectively less intense and physical, it is still just as valid and horrid.

Just because a car accident is objectively worse than falling off a bike doesn't mean the biker's pain is unimportant. Both can kill you, both can hurt you, and both deserve to get their injuries treated.

Questions?

#alex answers asks #alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale meta #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #heaven is terrible #trauma discussion #long post

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ari-but-unhinged · 5 months ago

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Art for Toritsuka/Hairo fic where I explored what was meant to be a crack ship and is now one of my favourite (??) ships in Saiki k- PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

(A long rant ensues so, if you don’t want that then that’s all good and you don’t have to click, but if you’re interested, then welcome to my rant about a rare pair i love!)

Of course, I started out by simply laughing at the “I hate men” line Toritsuka said about Hairo and thinking writing a crack taken seriously fic would be funny and it would be a nice break before I started this other fic I have planned that is going to be an even bigger endeavour with Saiki k x Danganronpa. What I didn’t see happening was for this Torihai fic to completely take over my brain space and end up with a fic just shy of 20,000 words.

This may not seem like a lot, but I usually only write fics in 1,000-2,000s so this is a lot for me, especially since I’m a slow writer/editor so it takes me a while.

Part of the reason I love these two together is because of the inherent dynamic of Hairo’s inspirational preachiness and how it doesn’t work on Toritsuka, and how it might be refreshing for Hairo to have someone who challenges him (and not in the fake way Teruhashi does, with Toritsuka being very upfront and honest about it). Toritsuka also, because he’s so upfront about his feelings, helps Hairo to express certain emotions like annoyance/sadness that he wouldn’t normally express outwardly. Something else too is that Toritsuka tends to be very physically affectionate, and I don’t know that Hairo is used to that (I haven’t seen any examples of him being physically affectionate in any other way than a bro way) so that could be refreshing as well. Also, also, Toritsuka is Hairo’s gym buddy who was reluctantly dragged along that day Saiki was trying to avoid everyone and no one can change my mind lol (this, in Hairo’s mind, forms a bond between them that can never be broken and he will never stop reminding Toritsuka of this when they hang out).

I just think their dynamic can be playful/fun because they’re both real with each other if that makes sense?

On Toritsuka’s side of things, he doesn’t have a lot of friends and the friends he does have he either doesn’t have any chemistry with or hate him (Saiki lol), so I think it’d be nice for him to have someone who is extremely caring/attentive to his friends and clearly cares deeply about them and shows it often. Because of this, Hairo shows interest in Toritsuka’s life, and for someone who probably hasn’t had many friends, that would mean a lot. Also the fact that Hairo cares so much for Toritsuka sets an example as to how to be a good friend/human would behave and could help him grow as a person (which are always the best friendships/relationships when they grow together rather than staying stagnant and dragging each other down). Being more caring of others and allow him to develop his interpersonal relationships with more than just ghosts, instead with real humans.

Also, I’ve taken to calling them the “errand boys” because it’s a great prompt to force two people who are polar opposites and would never interact to hang out/do an activity together, so I thought it fit them perfectly.

In the fic I changed a few things from canon (sexualities obviously- Tori is bi/queer and Hairo is gay. Although quick side-tangent- I’ve written Tori/Kaidou, Tori/Akechi, and now Tori/Hairo and all three of them either are Asexual or are often headcanonned as ace by the community/me and I just find it very funny that the horniest character is continuously shipped with them. I only realized I did this after I first started writing the fic.)

- Hairo explicitly has psychic powers (it’s something they can bond over and it’s something that plays off of Hairo’s emotions. Cue a lot of blushing not only because of embarrassment but also actual literal heat rushing to his face.)

- Hairo was raised by a single parent (His family is never mentioned so I just made one up)

- Personal headcanon, but I feel like Toritsuka might occasionally pretend to not see spirits in order to avoid getting approached.

- Toritsuka’s backstory has been slightly altered and has a lot more angst to an already pretty sad backstory (it’s played for laughs, but imagine how that would’ve felt for him :( he realized he lost two people he loved in a matter of minutes. Also, he’s a child when this happens so that’s even sadder. I honestly wonder if they died somewhere in the house or he was just there and his guardians didn’t know, like??? How???)

If this made you interested in reading the fic which this is all about, I’ll link it at the end, but if you were just here for the rant, that’s cool too! I’m obsessed with these two because they’re adorable and I must spread the gospel of Torihai.

Link to original fic-

#Torihai #toritsuka reita #hairo kineshi #digital art #art #i love them so much istg #I’m so normal about them #I promise #Toritsuka x Hairo #rarepair #saiki no psi nan

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rhyo-writes · 5 months ago

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What Makes a Monster; Prologue

As the title suggests, this is an intro to a new series I've decided to write; my take on the Sinclair twins (House of Wax 2005) and their childhood.

Length: 1k

Fandom: House of Wax 2005

Warnings: references to physical and emotional abuse towards children, allusions to murder and torture, this is a HoW fic so take that as warning

If you asked Bo Sinclair what the biggest lie in Ambrose was, you’d probably expect to hear something about the image of a perfect and loving family his mother was so desperate to achieve. The pretense Trudy was so sure the town would believe if her boys would just behave, if they showed up to church every Sunday, if Bo would just be like his brother. And he might at first be tempted to say that, but it simply wasn’t true, even if technically the biggest lie was about his family, and if it technically was about their perfection. But despite these technicalities, it had nothing to do with the loving facade Trudy so desperately pushed. No, this lie concerned Bo’s other half, his mother’s favorite twin, the little artist following in his mother’s footsteps, the model child that Trudy showered with praise, just as oblivious as the rest of the town to the truth.

Vincent was the lie, the golden boy facade as false as the mask he always wore, and the truth just as mangled as what lay underneath. It made Bo angry, this whole good-twin bad-twin game they’d been thrust into, the endless comparisons, the idolization of his brother, when Bo knew that Vincent was just as twisted as he was. Maybe even more so.

Sure, Bo lashed out. He had a violent temper, and he was quick with his fists, using violence to solve any problem thrust upon him, but that was common knowledge. Everyone knew Bo was a problem, a difficult child, a delinquent, his future a criminal record stretching longer than any list of achievements he could make. Everyone knew of the raging fire burning in his soul, ready to send him over the edge at any second. Even Trudy had given up pretending to love him, whining about her horrid son to her church friends. Everyone saw Bo for who he was, but no one truly saw Vincent.

If Bo was a raging fire, then Vincent was a deceptively calm ocean, serene upon inspection, but with an ever present barrage of deadly currents, hidden just below the surface, invisible until it was far too late for the errant swimmer. Sure, the other kids thought he was a freak, and the adults whispered that he was a bit strange, but they chalked it up to a hard start, to his deformities, to his horrid twin. And sure, their classmates never bullied Vincent the way they did Lester, disturbed by the drawings in Vincent’s sketchbook, saving him from the full force of their hatred up front. But they had no clue just how far that disturbance went, or how dangerous Vincent could be. They had no clue that every day their choice to shun him over outright violence kept them alive, or that the disappearance of the one boy who destroyed Vincent’s work was more than a coincidence.

But Bo knew, how could he not. He knew Vincent, the mirror to his own self, a reflection, perhaps backwards in presentation, but with a soul just as filled with rot and decay as his own. Bo knew that the sculptures of squirrels, rats, mice, and the occasional bat that crowded the shelves of Lester’s room weren’t realistic solely due to Vincent’s skill, but in part as a result of the rotting corpses underneath, an armature not for the squeamish. Bo knew that the stomach churning drawings that filled page after page of Vincent’s sketchbook weren’t the nightmares they were passed off as, but the dark fantasies that lurked like cobwebs etched into his brother’s soul.

And in some dark corner of his brain, Bo Knew that he had to act out, he had create enough chaos and destruction for the two of them, because if he didn’t, the things Vincent would do would be so much worse, and there wouldn’t be enough shadowed crevices or overturned trees in the world to hide the slew of bodies that would follow his brother.

Bo loved Vincent, he really did, but sometimes, a part of him wished that his perfect twin would get in trouble the way he did, for his mother to realize that her precious baby was just as much a freak, they were twins after all, two sides of the same coin. “It’s not fair,” he wanted to scream, “he’s just as awful, just as horrible,” but try as he might to relay the obvious, that they were identical in both mind and body, no one would listen. His mother would backhand him, furious, for how dare he speak that way about her precious little angel, and Bo would go to bed hungry, seething, trying to tell himself he preferred an empty stomach to the hell that was family dinner.

Years later he’d watch victims plead with Vincent, convinced that they just had to get through the web of lies they thought Bo had strung, and that if they could Vincent would help them. These small minded people, dumb with fear, oblivious to the inherent cruelty of Vincent’s work, pleading for their lives as if they were more than a step of the creative process, convinced that Vincent must feel sorry for them. He was the tortured artist, he wanted to save them, he hated killing, delusions that made Bo laugh before he’d smash in their faces.

Little did they know that he was far from complicit, in fact, Vincent lived for the feeling of blood on his hands. Nothing quite got the gears of his brain turning like a fresh face to work with, a fresh canvas awaiting his vision. Because Bo was not the mastermind behind the hell Ambrose had become, as much as he’d love to give himself credit. Bo never had much of a vision for the future, for what they could create, but he had someone who did. Someone just as cruel and sadistic, someone happy to help cover Bo’s tracks if it meant he could create his art. No, Bo was not the one behind the town of wax, Vincent was.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #my writing #trudy sinclair #what makes a monster series

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blorb-el · 1 year ago

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Don’t know if you made a post on this but what’s your opinion on DCAU Clark and how unapproachable(?) they made him in the later JL/JLU series without ever resolving it? Like I know the Cadmus arc hinges on him never considering himself a possible threat but it seems there was room for no much introspection outside a couple moments (that were later backtracked).

I've had like 6 half finished posts about this buried deep in the drafts for a year because I have capital B Brain Rot about this, but every time I tried to write it out I got six sentences in and wanted to rewatch the entire DCAU in order to get my facts straight. This time I'm resisting the urge, so forgive me if I forget specific episodes

Also, unfortunately for you, it’s nanowrimo, which means my brain is in Type All The Words Mode, and not Communicate Effectively and Succinctly Mode, and also I need a break from WSBF chapter 8, so. You’re getting a 3.5k essay sort of answering this question but not really. you will see

Thank you to my fellow lawyer for the defense of Rectangle Clark @januariat for helping to put this together

I do rewatch STAS and JL a fair amount, but much less JLU, so I actually don’t have much to say about the specific execution there. I’m planning on rewatching it soon. But for now…

To me it boils down to two answers. The Doylist answer, and what I think the writers really did have in mind, is that they came up with the Cadmus plot, knew it was an absolute banger of a storyline, and decided that it was worth compromising Superman's personality in order to write a good story. which is not something I can fault them for - as a fanfic writer, I make the same calculated tradeoffs every time I set out to write a fic. Characters are tools for narrative, even if these particular characters come with an additional weight of the tradition of collaborative storytelling that their most effective stories honor.

However, I do think it’s possible to, post-hoc, cobble together a Watsonian, narratively satisfying (if fucked up and sad) character arc for DCAU Clark if you also take STAS and JL into account. I think the key to understanding his character arc is his relationship with control. Throughout STAS, JL, and JLU, and then one more time in Batman Beyond for good measure, over and over again, he's manipulated and his powers and body are used as resources for other people. Obviously that’s not much of an excuse for becoming more authoritarian/overbearing/etc, Fascism Is Bad and I personally think a more IC superman would retreat more than double down (as in Kingdom Come), but looking at the totality of things that have happened to him before Cadmus, it's a little more understandable why he'd get close to snapping under the strain. Here's my personal reading of his arc, and the events that might have led to Clark behaving so irrationally in JLU.

cut for sheer length, but also mentions of manipulation, sexual assault, victim blaming, that sort of thing

One of the recurring themes in the DCAU is villains dehumanizing, depowering, and/or manipulating Clark. In STAS, Parasite, Lex via Bizarro, Talia and Ra’s al Ghul use him as a source for their own power. The Preserver and Maxima treat him like some exotic prize, disregarding his wishes. Jax-Ur and Mala use him and then betray him. But the most impactful, by far, is Darkseid.

In Apokolips Now, Darkseid defeats Clark, puts his bleeding body into public stocks, and drags him through the middle of Metropolis. Clark’s only rescued by the last minute intervention of the New Gods, and as a parting shot Darkseid murders Clark’s friend in front of everyone. Even though Clark prevents Earth from turning into Apokolips, it’s a huge emotional loss, and they don’t shy away from showing his rage and helplessness. But it’s when Darkseid returns in Legacy, the finale of STAS, that Clark’s life truly takes a turn for the worse.

Forgive me if this is all plot recap to you, anon, but I feel like a lot of people don’t know that STAS ends with Clark being mind controlled, heavily implied to be sexually assaulted, and forced to try to take over the Earth, killing god knows how many people in the process. When the military finally brings him down with a Kryptonite warhead and imprisons him, they nearly kill Supergirl in the process. Then Lex almost gives him a lethal injection, with a US general looking on, implying that the government approves of killing him. Lois breaks him out, he tries to get help for Kara from Dr. Hamilton, and then goes to Apokolips. Most fights in STAS have him shrug off blows. He ends this one bleeding from his mouth, looking almost dead. When he finally casts down Darkseid, tells the Hunger Dogs (the slaves on Apokolips) that they’re free… they turn away from Superman. They cluster around Darkseid to protect and heal him.

Those universal truths of a lot of Superman stories, that goodness and liberty and the American Way* always win? They don't in STAS. A representative of the US government (as far as he knows) has tried to kill him. He lost his temper and spoke in a harsh tone of voice once, because Kara was dying and he was hurt and desperate, and now his friend Dr. Hamilton, the man he trusted to repair the Kryptonian ship, study his body and his powers, one of the people who knew him best in STAS, is afraid of him - and, as we find out later, takes immediate, drastic, and violating action against Kara and against him. The series ends with the small town man standing on the roof of the Planet, hearing people hate and fear him, wondering how people will ever trust him again.

*I hate this phrase personally when used as a Superman Motto, but it's used here as a contrast to the fascistic imagery of Apokolips Now and Legacy (as well as Brave New World, which, hoo boy, we aren’t even getting into that one).

Six months (iirc) after the STAS finale, in Secret Origins, the US government has agreed to let a visibly older and wearier Superman help disarm the nuclear stockpile - only for this to backfire on him because it was a Plot by the White Martians. Clark’s let down the country again. He’s helped aliens invade again, and to make matters worse, he sped away in the middle of an attack to break into an official government facility to free J'onn. Clark founds the Justice League beginning from a place of personal failure, as a check on himself. Clark has power and wants to help people with it, but he’s been turned against people he cares about, and has twice now failed to protect the world. It’s worth noting that Legacy put him into the world stage; before, in STAS, I can’t think of any true worldwide threats besides maybe Jax-Ur and Mala.

Most of the rest of season 1 of JL isn’t particularly Clark-focused, although he does appear in a lot of episodes, but the themes of some of these episodes are potentially relevant to understanding his character later, so: brief bullet point summaries.

During In Blackest Night, Clark sees his respected colleague turn himself into an authority that turns out to be incompetent investigators looking for a scapegoat. Interesting. Surrendering to governmental authority/oversight didn’t turn out too well here.

During The Enemy Below, on Clark’s advice, Aquaman tries to solve his problems peacefully with diplomacy and is immediately shot in a life threatening assassination attempt. Peaceful diplomacy doesn't work so well for him.

During Injustice for All, Lex is dying of cancer. Clark tries to reach out and is rebuffed, with Lex going on to try to found a team to kill him and the rest of the League.

During Paradise Lost, Clark sees his respected colleague turn herself into the authorities and immediately get banished from her home for the crime of trying to save it with all the resources she had at her disposal. Interesting. Surrendering to governmental authority/oversight didn’t turn out too well here, again.

During War World, Clark’s again captured for exploitation. This is essentially a retread of The Main Man from STAS, doubling down on how some people see him as a thing to be exploited.

During Fury, Clark’s completely ineffective at preventing an attempted genocide of half the world’s population.

Season 2 opens with Twilight, one of the most important episodes for understanding Clark’s mindset during the Cadmus arc. Imagine, if you will, the above happening to you. Darkseid shows up at your workplace. And the man you’ve worked with the longest, your friend, your ally, tells you to cry him a river, build him a bridge, and get over it. Tells you to get over being brainwashed, manipulated, and humiliated. Tells you to get over having your broken and bleeding body paraded around the streets of Metropolis, tells you to get over having your friend killed in front of you for trying to defend you, tells you to get over almost getting your cousin killed. Sure, Brainiac is a planetary-scale threat; Darkseid and Apokolips are in real trouble. Clark was wrong to write off Apokolips and its people, and the League should absolutely have intervened in the situation. But the way Bruce went about it was… one of the harshest things DCAU Bruce has ever done, and one of the only times the narrative seems to actually agree that he was an asshole about it. And even then, you really need the context of STAS to understand why Clark is so furious and hurt in this scene.

Clark relents and goes along with Bruce’s plan to trust Darkseid, only to end up betrayed again, the whole ruse just another ploy for Brainiac to gain control of Clark, torture him, and use Clark’s body to upgrade himself. Clark had spared Darkseid back on Apokolips at the end of Legacy, on Kara’s advice. But now Darkseid’s come after him, again. Used him again to put not only Earth but who knows how many other worlds at risk, now that Brainiac��s even more powerful. It’s the downfall of Krypton, over and over again. And when Clark goes to end it, I think he doesn’t care that the base is about to go, as long as Darkseid goes down with it. That isn’t a price Bruce is willing to pay, so he teleports Clark out. And he’s wrong, again. “No one could have survived that.” Well… no, Bruce. Darkseid does, and Clark knows it.

During Tabula Rasa, Lex manipulates Amazo the exact way he tried to use Bizarro. Clark once again fails to guard against a terrible, potentially world-ending threat, and in fact makes the situation worse by his very presence.

Then we come to Only a Dream, another key episode in understanding this version of Superman. Clark’s deepest fear is that his powers will keep on growing beyond his ability to control them, eventually destroying everything around him. In his nightmare He kills Lois and Jimmy, destroys the Daily Planet, and grows into a brutish, hulking, clumsy figure, first crying out for someone to help him, and then losing hope. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He goes back to the Kent farm and curls up in the spaceship in the fetal position, convinced that he’s only going to hurt anyone who tries to help. Is it any wonder, since that’s literally what’s happened to him in Legacy? Is it any wonder that he’d want to give up, to retreat? If we’re to take the World of Cardboard speech literally, he’s already having to focus on this restraint every day, in every interaction. This is my personal explanation/hc as to why in every single fight he lets himself get knocked around a bit first; he’s calibrating how hard he can hit back without doing irrevocable damage. Anyway. Deeply fucked up 2 minutes of horror. Wish they’d explored this a little bit more in later seasons.

Then, directly after this, it’s A Better World. After we’ve just seen that his worst nightmare is hurting people by being unable to control his powers, we come face to face with a world where he’s hurt people by the precise and controlled application of his powers. Justice Lord Clark uses the same Superman Robots we saw Kara use in Legacy. He’s become quite adept at his lobotomization techniques. Later on in JLU, we see ‘our’ universe’s Clark attempt to lobotomize Doomsday the exact same way Justice Lord Superman did. Again, Clark fails to protect the world from himself, and to make matters worse, the guy to save the day is Lex Luthor. I’d be a little miffed if the maniac who wants to kill me so so bad turned out to be instrumental in saving the world and now I owe him some unspecified favor in the future. Clark’s met with failure and distrust trying to fix things his way, now he tries to do things in an uncharacteristically sneaky way and… gets met with more dislike and distrust.

Eclipsed continues this trend of hurting his friends; he’s temporarily mind controlled and hurts Wally.

In The Terror Beyond, he fucks up and puts the world in danger again, all because from his point of view, he tried to prevent Solomon Grundy being manipulated and used (like he himself has been used over and over again).

In Secret Society, his frustration comes to a peak, amplified by Grodd’s telepathic manipulation. He’s been trying to do his best, but he snaps that he’s had better luck fighting armies alone (dubious plural there, but he did pretty much evaporate an army in Legacy, so at least once, ok) and that he’s had to hold back his abilities in order to be on the League. Again if we take the World of Cardboard speech at face value, this is true, and we see it in the episode when he accidentally hurts Shayera with heat vision despite shouting a warning beforehand. It’s also telling how other members of the League have the ability to constantly voice doubts about its usefulness and cohesiveness as an organization (hi Bruce) but when he expresses the same doubts everyone gasps. When he expresses his doubt and frustration, when he steps away, the organization that’s collectively saved the world several times falls apart; they’re reliant on him, and he has to be aware of the entire existence of the League as an extra burden of responsibility.

Since both this episode and the Cadmus arc as a whole are meant to show his flaws as a leader, it’s worth examining the foundations of that leadership as established in the DCAU. Clark’s the leader of the League, but narratively, Bruce is its brains and its ethics and Wally is its heart. As a result, Clark is filling the role of leader of the League without the narrative scaffolding that gives him the respect comics incarnations of the character are generally accorded. (I’m admittedly only drawing here from the JLA runs I’ve personally read, Morrison/Porter 90’s JLA and the early Fox/Sekowsky 60’s JLA). Superman might not technically be the First Superhero according to these continuities, but he is respected as though he is (and as we comic book nerds know him to be). The League in these comics treat him as something of an ethical standard bearer, a primus inter pares, as well as being the muscle. In the DCAU, Batman, having founded the DCAU with BTAS, is the First Superhero, and the entire plotline of the Justice Lords centers Wally as the emotional anchor of the team. Clark doesn’t have that pre-established stature. What really qualifies him to be the leader, besides the fact that Bruce doesn’t want to do it? His position seems precarious, relying more on Superman’s pre-established reputation than his actual onscreen characterization. Centering Bruce and Wally are legitimate creative choices I don’t even necessarily disagree with, but it means Clark-as-leader functions quite differently than more traditional JL structures.

Hereafter is something of a healing point for him. It’s a little fucked up that Superman almost bashes Vandal Savage’s head in with a rock, but you take what you can get at this point. He comes out of it fine, but everyone else is forced to reckon with what he means to them. Hereafter coming directly after Secret Society is a very good reunification for the League. Shame about what’s gonna happen in three episodes.

In Wild Cards, he’s useful to address the immediate threat but ineffective to stop the real, countrywide (worldwide?) threat. (I should note that of course I don’t expect every episode’s threat to be solved by Clark; I’m just pointing out a trend that I think his character would perceive as failures on his part. If the writers ever let him reflect.)

JL ends as it began, with another massive alien invasion that Clark helped facilitate in Starcrossed, by working with the Thanagarians during the first part of their plan. As a fellow exile, a fellow alien, he’s hurt and angry with Shayera’s betrayal… even though, in the end, in probably one of his best moments, he votes to allow her to stay in the League.

(Sidenote: almost every interaction Clark has had with other aliens have been despotic societies or individuals: Jax-Ur and Mala, Apokolips, Maxima’s planet, War World, and now Thanagar. The Guardians built robotic police/foot soldiers to enforce their will. Even New Genesis is ruled by a benevolent dictator. Martian society is nearly extinct, overrun by… more alien despots, surviving only with J'onn. Argoan society is nearly extinct, surviving only with Kara. At least Lobo isn’t a fascist? Small consolation.)

JLU begins after a short time skip. I’m not as familiar with JLU episodes since it’s been a while since I’ve watched them, so I’m not going to attempt an episode-by-episode breakdown. Also this post is already way too long. But the point of this post is to look at Clark’s overall arc until this point, and see how it informs his decisions in JLU. For a more JLU-specific informed point of view check this post by januariat!

What we have is a man who naturally wants to take responsibility on his own shoulders, a doer and a fixer who wants to get into the ring and solve problems, who wants to use his abilities to help, being confronted over and over again with a string of personal failures, manipulation, and betrayal. When he tries to set a boundary about not being willing to help the man who took over his body and forced him against his home in Twilight, he’s told to get over it by his most trusted ally. When his deepest fears are revealed in Only a Dream, we see them having been already realized in Legacy. And when he’s presented with his dream of a peaceful life farming, a family that loves him, and no responsibility to save the world, it’s ripped away from him in For The Man Who Has Everything.

Ultimately, I don’t have a good answer for exactly how he doubles down in JLU S2, because I need to rewatch all of it with this understanding of the character. But I think you can see the shape of a traditional Superman character in there, trying and trying again and again to do the right thing, putting himself on the line - only instead of learning from his experiences and letting them inform his actions, he’s carrying the weight of years of suppressed trauma while trying to hold up the entire Justice League. This long, long run of failure, manipulation, betrayal, and distrust adds up. And there’s only so much weight one person can hold on their shoulders, even if they are a Superman.

(And then as the nice little capstone to his story, in Batman Beyond's The Call, he’s kept under alien mind control for years! With the way Starro clings to his chest, he probably hasn’t been touched in years! Trapped in his own mind, forced to watch as yet another alien species uses him as a tool to hurt his own teammates and invade the Earth! And that’s the last we see of DCAU Clark! What a fun little ending to his character arc that doesn’t make me go insane whenever I think about it. Very very very normal about this.)

#id in alt text #like i said. brainrot. i'm so normal about clark kent #you really do have to like. put this arc together in your own head though. they did NOT put this on screen.#long post #dc meta #DCAU #STAS #JL/JLU #clark kent #my fucking kingdom for a fic where j'onn helps him develop mental shielding against mind control. and also gets him therapy. one day #my writing #<fuck it. putting it in the writing tag so i can find it again #thanks for the ask :^)

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rinamars · 1 year ago

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I always wondered what fics do my favorite authors read bc maybe if I start reading them too, I'll be able to write like them 😤 Kidding aside, can you recommend some Erwin x Reader fics that you really like/inspire you to write? I'm fine with on-going ones 🤩

little anon i could KISS you!! i've been looking for an excuse to make an erwin fic recs post so here we go *cracks knuckles* brace yourselves heheh (warning: most of these recs are 18+)

first of all: everything @riewritten has ever written. EVERYTHING. that goes without saying. her brain is so big. i wish i could take a trip inside her mind. rie ily

this is a story of the sea by shinzouing is a canonverse eruri x reader fic, where the three enter a relationship (or rather, erwin enters a relationship with both of them. levi and reader are idiots at first. the pining is so delicious though). where do i even begin to talk about this masterpiece? it broke me. it seriously broke me. i'm just going to say that the universe she has created in this story (as well as in the sequel which i'm going to talk about in a sec) feels so real and so right that when i finished it i needed a minute to remind myself what details that are ACTUALLY canon and what aren't. peak writing i swear. heartbreaking, but worth it.

after tiasots has broken your heart, go read beyond the sea by the same author and let it piece it back together!! it's currently being posted, and it's basically the continuation of tiasots BUT erwin survives at shiganshina (unlike in tiasots). again, same thing: peak writing, and a little universe it's sooo easy to get lost in. this story will end up living rent free in your mind, trust me.

aaand also set in the tiasots universe is certain obscure things!! it's three chapters, and in each of them they take turns between being dominant or submissive. this is smut that goes a lot harder than what you can find in tiasots but everything shinzouing writes is pure gold

to complete the eruri x reader category (aka the fics that made me go "i think i might be into the concept of throuples") there's two lovers by feelingthorny. it's also set in canonverse. erwin and levi are in an established relationship, one day they invite reader into their bed, and... Big Feelings ensue. i have another fic by feelingthorny by recommend, and oh man, she truly has a way of writing emotions that is so evocative and poetic, it truly drags you into the moment and you are able to feel exactly what they are feeling, they're so immersive. the smut parts literally drip with body worship, it's insane. beautiful.

the other fic by feelingthorny i HAVE to mention is close call. this one is pwp, but FUCK this erwin is SO DREAMY. and, as one might tell, the writing is just marvelous.

next, i recommend every! single! fic! that belongs to the to build a home series by nylondreams. the romance, the intimacy, the tenderness... ahh, they're so lovely to read. and *cough* the first fic in the series gave me a breeding kink *cough*

more recommendations in the "horny fics that also made me fall in love even more" category: e major, uncorked and treasured memories, all by whatsherquirk. delicious. that's all i'm going to say.

prying eyes by SecretsOfHarprocrates is in my opinion a depiction of erwin that's very close to how he'd behave in canon (if canon included sexy times)

four christmases by ghost_party was !!! ok i don't really know what to say about this one because it's been a while since i read it, but you have to trust me and check it out!!

i think that's all for now, i hope i haven't forgotten anything (if i have i'll just reblog this post and add more). happy reading <3

now PLEASE give me an excuse to make an eruri fic recs post (or even a levi one)

#msg #erwin smith x reader

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garfeildfanpage · 10 months ago

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Ok so on the topic of headcanons, I know I haven’t mentioned it yet but Terukane has been a gruesome infection in my brain for over 3 years now, and it’s about time I let the brain worms breathe

Terukane infested their way into my brain mostly because they both just so happen to be my favorite type of character design and character archetype (middle part and glasses / absolute wet cat of a man) so them also having a dynamic that makes me both very ill and also jump for joy is (to me) a combo made in heaven.

But I’m picky, especially picky with characterization in fan fiction. And I’m glad that most fics of them are written by people who understand how they behave in-series. Though my biggest fault may be that I love to write but hate the act of writing, so every idea I have is forever locked away in my noggin, I can attempt to get out something here.

Quick note I’m not a weirdo so don’t think I mean anything in any weird way at all, if you do I’ll eat your family. Okay? Okay.

Smitten Teru is probably my favorite out of any characterization of the two, just because I love how it can either be mindrottingly sweet or just ,sad, personally I love going the “kicking feet and giggling” route but both are great in their own regard.

It also might just be that I can’t really see Akane behaving the way he does for Aoi to Teru, a lot of people just kind of move Akane’s unhealthy attachment issues to him without understanding why Akane behaves like that around Aoi in the first place. (I have a whole thing about that) So it’s refreshing to have him, like, not do that.

To add onto that: aloof/repress feelings as hard as possible Akane totally rocks, and I love seeing it. Especially with the “why in the FUCK would I have LIKE someone like that??” kinda shit, rocks me, love it, can’t get enough. God it’s like the only time where cheesy relationship junk doesn’t give me second hand embarrassment, cause like they’re both so unbelievably stupid at relationships, and watching them be awkward and terrible at it really alleviates the whole existential life-or-death stuff happening in the actual manga. Losers in love kills me, and they are just that. GOD I WANT TO THROW THEM OFF A RAVINE

Also, I know a lot of fan fiction does this, but it’s never to the degree that I wish it was. Flustered/embarrassed teru kills me. It always kills me in anything when he just acts like a normal person, just like, expressing normal people emotions but because he’s so repressed it just like kills him. GOD I went through like a six month period of not crying and the moment I did again it felt like I got hit by a bus, could not IMAGINE barely ever crying my whole damn life. A good hard cry, that’s what he needs.

Anyway, I think that’s enough, if I let the brain worms out anymore they’ll form a union and force me to pay them more. Ninja out

#hot cheese #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #god i love tagging this totally isn’t a massive inconvenience #teru minamoto #minamoto teru #akane aoi #which do I tag I don’t know I hate this website #aoi akane #aidairo I know it was so funny to make their names match but you have therefore cursed an entire fandom into getting their names confused #terukane #ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

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thedragonagebigbang · 17 days ago

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Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @exalted-dawn | AO3: Exalted_Dawn

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Interview with Exalted Dawn

Ed and Dema talk collaboration, developing a personal style, and a bunch of stuff Dema had to redact but is leaving in to build suspense.

Dema: I know in the beginning you were debating whether to participate as a writer or an artist, and you went with artist. What was the main driver of that decision?

Ed: It was definitely a combination of a few things. Workload and time allotment being the main influencing factors. My attention span when it comes to writing tends to be a bit all or nothing. I can have periods where I can churn out one thousand words in an hour and then go like two weeks without writing anything at all 😂 And then on top of it, with the new game coming out I was sorta trying to factor in how that would affect my ability to stick to a schedule. Drawing is a lot easier for me to sort of one and done over a weekend so I figured it might be better to start there for my first Bang.

Dema: Oh this is your first Big Bang! I don't think I knew that 😂

Ed: YUP LOL

Dema: When you do a collaboration like this, that isn't a commission but is based on another person's work, how do you navigate that process?

Ed: Well, from a starting standpoint, I really like to have a lot of communication with the person I am partnered with. I love collaboration work and really strive to capture the energy of whatever source material I'm working from. So getting the author’s opinions on their own story beats is a huge help. But aside from that, the element of choice in this sort of project definitely played a part. I got to choose a prompt that fascinated me, and then from there, I read through the material the author currently had and chose a few scenes that really struck me with a strong mental image. Something that when I read it, I immediately thought "Oh that would be neat to see in a picture!" From there, it’s back to touching base with the author and making sure that what ideas I have sorta line up with their vision. I want to make sure its respectful of the work its being based on, while still sorta playing to my own interests as an artist and a fan :3

Dema: You're a very prolific artist, how do you keep all these ideas organized? Do they behave themselves up there in your brain?

Ed: HAH! I would like to say that there's some sort of rhyme and reason to my creative process, but if I were being honest, they mostly tumble about in my brain. When I get stuck on an idea, I tend to fixate on it and continue to develop it in my head the more I think on it. With this prompt specifically, I was immediately hit with this idea of a vibe I wanted to get across in my art from the moment I read it. And then that continued to build and build, until I was left with these pretty complete ideas, accompanied by atmosphere and layout, that I became stuck on. After that, I just laid them out on paper. (The bounty of inspiration certainly didn't help to make the decision easy XD)

Dema: Are you drawing inspiration from anywhere besides the source material for this piece?

Ed: I AM! There were several pieces my mind immediately went to when I was reading through the source material. Lord of the Rings (specifically the cinematic scenery of the Mines of Moria) and The Song Of The Sea were both big ones that I drew immediate parallels to. The huge scale and vast landscapes as well as the beautiful pattern work and 2D story book style typical of Cartoon Saloon’s work were both things I immediately latched onto for this. But more abstractly, having just read [REDACTED], I was already in the mindset of [REDACTED] when I got assigned to this prompt. Since this one is also leaning into the [REDACTED] genre, it sorta pushed me towards these concepts of strong lighting contrast— stark shadows played against bright light. Bold silhouettes. I was even considering playing with a black and white inked style with colored accents and a heavy focus on crosshatching to get that sort of [REDACTED] look at one point.

Dema: Mmmmmmm how much of that am I gunna have to redact 😂[narrator voice: it was a lot]

Ed: You can totally just delete the second half if that helps XD

Dema: I don't want to DELETE it I'm just gunna redact it haha. IT'S FINE. Also I love that. Sin City vibes.

Ed: YEAH!

Dema: How did you develop your personal style?

Ed: Many years of frustrated grunting at my own artwork kjdhfhjsgvfd LOL no but actually, what I consider to be most typical of 'my style' (and for this question, I'm going with the main illustrative style I typically use for projects like this, since I definitely have multiple) came about pretty much by accident for the most part. I basically stumbled upon it. I had spent many MANY years developing my skills from, like, middle school up through college, first with pencil and paper and then with a very large desk mounted display tablet, and was sort of trying to get to a point where I was satisfied with the look of my own work. It was a slow process, and I hadn't really been satisfied with my progress and where I was. In an attempt to sort of switch back to the more familiar feeling of pencil and paper, I had gotten an ipad to draw on since it was of a more similar size. I had been playing around with it, and was struggling with the pressure settings on my pen for making line art specifically, so I sorta just threw my hands up in the air and said "Y'know what?! I'm gonna try lineless cause why not!" I made this small, lineless doodle of my Dungeons & Dragons character at the time, and suddenly it all just sorta clicked into place! I've been basically drawing like that ever since, but with the aforementioned handful of stylistic exceptions XD

Dema: What do you feel like you are striving for in your body of work? Or I guess, is there a theme or a feeling or a "spirit" in your work you're hoping to convey?

Ed: HMMMMMMMMMMM THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION! I wouldn't really say I'm striving for any single theme all throughout my work (part of the reason why I have multiple distinct styles is so that I can really draw out the desired vibes I'm aiming for in each individual piece). But from a general sense, I think I tend to focus a lot on capturing emotion and atmosphere, especially in the lighting and color I use. As for the spirit I often capture— I don't think it's super intentional on my part, but for my lineless artwork specifically, I definitely get that there is this sort of adventurous, almost whimsical spirit to a lot of what I draw. Rather than dark dramatic pieces, with lots of sharp lines and dynamic movement, there's this sort of softness and quietness to a lot of my work, like capturing a peaceful moment between all the big dramatic stuff. Even for the tonally and visually 'dark' pieces. Which— honestly— I think speaks a lot more to my own personality and preferences than I maybe intend 🤣

Dema: I love that a lot. Thank you for such thoughtful answers, and for taking the time to be interviewed today! I can't wait to see the final piece.

#fandom big bang #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #2024 interviews #Artist interviews

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pale-opal · 3 months ago

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Heya! How long have you been writing for? And also, what inspired you to do so? Also any tips for new writers?

Hello! I would say that I have been writing since... well, since always, really. But I only started getting serious about it in middle school. I was inspired by a lot of the books that I read, and as I got older and started becoming aware of the processes authors used to write their stories, and I noticed that some of them didn't really use outlines: they just started with whatever idea they came up with in their head. And at some point I must've thought to myself: "Hey, I come up with stories in my head all the time! I could totally write a book!" (I did try doing that at one point - I never finished it. But I'm kind of glad I didn't. The story I wrote was a hot mess.) I do have a few tips for new writers: 1. If you have an idea, write it down - Ideas are all well and good, but that's all they are: ideas. They can't do anything until they get out of your brain.

2. Take breaks frequently - Ironically enough, taking breaks is just as important as writing whenever you can. Breaks are key for preventing burnout (which is the death of manuscripts and fanfictions everywhere), and for keeping up with your health and preventing conditions like carpal tunnel. Not only that, but if you're having difficulty with something you've been working on for a while, stepping away from it and coming back after a few hours can give you "fresh eyes", and let you examine your work with a new perspective (this works for just about any creative pursuit, really. I've personally found it helpful when doing art (walking away for an hour or two has saved so many drawings from being scrapped)).

3. Use prompts to practice - If you want to write, but don't know what to write about, prompts are a good way to get started or to warm up! I've found that writing-based bingo boards are a good way to find a lot of interesting prompts in one go.

4. Read as much as you can - Reading can be really helpful in learning about new subject matter and expanding your vocabulary. Not only that, but what you read influences your creative voice. If you like the way a certain writer writes their characters, settings, prose, etc. and you want your work to be more like theirs, try reading more of their work if you can. There's nothing wrong with wanting your work to reflect what inspires you.

5. Experiment with other genres - What genre a story is in can have a large impact on how characters behave and what the setting looks like. For example, a person is going to act a lot differently in a zombie apocalypse than they would in a coffee shop AU. If you want to get a good grip on how a character acts and what their personality is like, try throwing them into a different genre.

6. Write from experience and personal knowledge - The saying "Write what you know" can apply to both one's life experiences and what they are aware of from an academic standpoint, and doing so can help make what you write seem more believable. For instance, if I knew a lot about plants, that information might come in handy for doing something like coming up with a plant-based metaphor, or if I wanted to write a character that was a botanist. On the other hand, if I knew what it was like to be left at the altar, I might use that to write that same event as part of a character's backstory. However, if there is something that you've experienced that was hard to process, think carefully before writing about it. It's like method acting: it can be really effective and even therapeutic, but it can also cause you harm if you're not careful. 7. Don't be afraid to look up synonyms - If you find yourself using the same word over and over, see if that word has any applicable synonyms. Google is honestly so very useful in this regard. It's been of so much assistance to me that it's gotten to the point where I am starting to wonder if the Oxford English Dictionary (which is where Google pulls definitions from) has ever saved a life. But try to keep connotations in mind. "Small", "little", and "itty-bitty" all mean the same thing, but they read differently, and that difference can become highly apparent in different contexts. For example, "Joel was little" has its own vibe in comparison to "Joel was itty-bitty."

8. Show your writing to others - This is something that I struggled with for a while, and still have issues with sometimes. However, something that I have found to be helpful is showing my work to someone who I'm close with. What might be considered a harsh criticism from someone else feels a lot less intimidating when it's coming from someone who you've known for a while. Not only that, but there is a good chance that they'll catch a mistake you made that you didn't notice while working on it, or even if you check over your work yourself (that's just the sad truth of looking at something for a long time, even if you take breaks - things start to blend together). That's about it. I didn't think that my answers to your questions would make for such a long post, but I hope that you found this helpful!

#questions #writing advice #long post #opal speaks #may God bless you all

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

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chaosheadspace's addition....fucking supreme. I am going feral. Furthermore, my brain has once again been taken over by this au.

For some reason I am convinced Alex just "has to go" (cough cough) on some important business trip with Paul towards the end of Dream's pregnancies. The first time everyone could write it off as unlucky timing buy the third time it happens everyone knows it's deliberate.

Alex and Dream might behave at social events but to everyone who works at the manor it is obvious the two don't exactly like spending more time together than strictly necessary for keeping up appearances.

Everyone can agree it's a dick move for Alex to not be there for the birth of "his" children (the staff are 99% sure that Dream/Hob and Alex/Paul is what is happening here) but both Dream and Alex ignore it. The idea of Alex having to care for Dream close to & during labor makes both of them break out in hives, no thank you. Hob can take care of that.

Maybe Alex promotes Hob to Dream's personal assistant or something to keep up appearances. He is being such a good husband by making sure Dream has someone there for him when he himself is unfortunately indisposed (Lucienne is Dream's p.a. in a business sense here).

While Alex is off to France or something (where he is definitely not having an insane amount of sex with Paul while they wait for news of the baby's arrival), Hob and Dream get to be together.

Dream might not have had someone there to comfort him through the morning sickness but at least he gets to have someone there to dote on him and massage his aching back for those final weeks when Hob's pup is big and heavy.

When Dream goes into labor, Hob is there to take care of him and the kids, juggling holding Dream's hand and playing with the kids and reading them stories before bed. Afterwards, when Dream is tired and sore, Hob will be there to take care of him and the newborn, as well as to keep the older children occupied so their dad and little sibling can rest.

[ for someone who loves angst I sure am a sucker for the comfort part of it ]

- 🍃

Ahshdhfjgm yes perfect! Another lovely anon had a similar idea of Hob becoming the go-to guy when Dream is labour because the Burgesses aren't there/dont care, and I think its wonderful!

It's fantastic news for Hob because he gets quality time with Dream in those precious final weeks before the new arrival, and he actually gets to be one of the first to hold the baby! It almost makes up for all the time they have to spend apart. He absolutely dotes on Dream, and soaks up all the time he can get snuggled up with the older children plus the newest little one. Side by side or in his lap it's impossible not to notice that they're his kids, every single one of them. And honestly he'd love them just the same if they weren't his, because they came from Dream. The most beautiful, precious person he's ever met. How could Hob fail to love him and his babies?

#🍃 anon #dreamling #the sandman #cw mpreg #cw cheating

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baratiddyappreciator · 11 months ago

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Hey again 😭, can you write about the Baki men and their reaction to their s/o squirting?

Oh I can do that lmao, that is a no problemo situation! Added in a bonus Motobe because I see you. Sorry it took me so long, I'm going longer-form with this one. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG I'm on vacation and the internet at my villa isn't the best. Clearly NSFW, Minors fuck off kthx. Continued under the cut, very tempted to do short-stories with these ones, but I'm restraining myself and behaving.

Baki:

Confused, surprised, and for about a second he thinks he made you pee yourself and he feels really bad about it. He's deadass about to appologise profusely until he notices the incredibly satisfied look on your face, then it clicks.

He doesn't do it on purpose, he didn't really know how to, if he's being honest, and after the first time he does it, he has no idea how to replicate it, but he will absolutely try to given your permission. He swears he'll clean up the mess.

He won't do it all the time, of course, but he'll definitely save it for when you have a rough day and need some care, because he knows that that's a powerful ass orgasm and you might appreciate it.

Both genders can apparently squirt, so regardless of what parts you may have, you can also get Baki to squirt. It's a mess and he winds up having to just Take a Minute after, but it's worth it.

Hanayama:

He's proud of himself. Surprised? No not really, he's got a lot to work with, so he'd be more surprised if he doesn't. He's still proud of himself though.

Does he know what he did to make you squirt? Nope. Will he try and replicate it? Not really, he doesn't really have to, because he'll do it again at some point in time. It takes you squirting like 4 or 5 times for him to realise what it is he's doing that makes you squirt.

Once he figures out how to make you squirt, unless you tell him not to, he'll make you squirt every time you guys have sex. He enjoys knowing that he's making you cum really good.

You can try and make him squirt, but it doesn't really happen. You might get it to happen maybe once or twice, but it's not a super common thing for him, and he doesn't appreciate making a mess.

Chiharu:

Ecstatic. He watches it happen with wide eyes and a smile brighter than the sun. He'll fuck you through it just to see if he can make you cum harder. He wants to make your legs shake and your eyes roll back.

Oh he knows exactly what he did and how he did it. He'll do the exact same thing again only seconds later to test that theory, and it'll probably wind up making you cum again. Use the authority you have over him, because unless you tell him not to, he'll make you squirt your brains out.

Given the chance and the permission he'll wear you out. He'll spend the entire time pleasuring you, either by oral or by using his fingers or cock. At that point, he's getting off on the idea that he's making you cum.

When you actually sit down and give basic effort, he is shockingly easy to make squirt. He trusts you completely when it comes to the bedroom, so if you ask him to do something, he'll do it. Getting to cum is just a bonus.

Katsumi:

You come down from your orgasm and look at Katsumi only to see his eyes are the size of dinner plates. He had no idea that you could do that, and he had no idea that he'd done the right thing to get you to do that. Shocked and amazed.

He knows how he did it, the moment is playing in his head over and over. He'll try it again with your permission, or sometimes while you two are fucking he'll just start doing something he knows will make you squirt.

Having a bad day? Let him run you a bath, but could you come here and point out the bubble bath you want to use. Oh, looks like he's fucking you on the edge of the tub, getting you to squirt all over the floor. Whoops!

He's harder to get to squirt, if only because he's not as sensitive, but it's possible. Get him worked up, get him tied down, and go to town on him.

Jack:

He's not going to stop fucking you while you squirt. As a matter of fact, it's one of the few moments where he's openly dominant and domineering. He'll grab you by the throat and talk filthy to you while he makes you cum.

He knows the exact thing that had you squirting, and he can replicate it perfectly. He knows all sorts of little things that make you cum, and he will use them.

He knows when making you squirt is appropriate, but that being said, sometimes he just needs the confidence boost of making you cum that hard, so he'll do it and ask for forgiveness after. Don't worry about the mess, he'll clean it up.

SHOCKINGLY easy to make squirt in practice, but getting him to actually do anything to make him squirt takes a lot of convincing. With him, saying that you want to try something new is fine enough, he'll let you do so, but saying that you want to make him squirt makes him avoid you a little bit.

Kosho:

Stunned silence. He's stopped doing anything, his mouth is open and will not close, he's staring at you, stunned. He's not overly pleased by having to clean up the mess, but he very much likes seeing you cum like that.

He doesn't know what he did, and he's kinda scared to try again in case he does something wrong or actually succeeds and gets a mess all over.

Sometimes though, he's going to go feral whenever he notices that you're having a bad day. The whole concept of "oh no a mess" goes out the window, and he's going to make you nut so hard you'll pass out. Squirt or no, he'll show you a good time.

He's borderline impossible to make squirt. He just isn't really capable of doing so, you'd have to work on him for literal hours, which, while fun, is incredibly overstimulating, or you'd have to get really lucky.

Kureha:

He's not surprised. It's like everyday business for him, though he'll lean into the dirty talk. Not to the same degree as Jack, but it's still some good dirty talk. He's a little surprised if you squirt out of nowhere for the first time without previously doing so, but still, not overly shocked.

He knows everything that happened perfectly. He knows the anatomy, he knows what to do to make it happen. He knows. It takes minimal effort from him.

Sometimes he likes to make you feel small and stupid, because he'll walk up, pin you on a table and then boom, you've made a mess, but other times he'll drag you to the shower, pin you against the wall and look you dead in the eyes as he makes you cum, just so he can look at you while you do it.

He can squirt, doesn't do it very often or in very large amounts, but he is able to. If you're struggling, he outright tells you what to do to make him squirt. He's a bitch, but he's not evil.

Retsu:

Shocked and apologetic. He actually does think he made you piss yourself and he is very sorry. He doesn't listen for the first little bit because he's busy apologizing and cleaning up, all while still hard and cleaning up.

He has no idea what he did or how he did it, but you apparently really liked it so if you want he'll try. The second time he makes you squirt is very awkward for him, but he gets it done. But the third time, it's like he's on a mission. It's a complete 180 in personality and it's great.

He doesn't mind cleaning, he usually cleans up after you two have sex anyways. He wants his precious to sleep in clean sheets and pajamas, and you can't really do that if there's cum everywhere.

Honestly, not hard at all. Get him turned on enough and then give him a handjob and you start to notice that that's not just precum he's leaking. Get him to properly squirt and he'll lose the ability to think for a solid three hours.

Doppo:

Smug bastard will lock eyes with you, your squirt all over his chest and face and he'll just smirk. He's proud of himself, and he'll make subtle little remarks that call back to it out in public just to watch you blush and squirm.

He knows what he did, how he did it and when it's appropriate to make you squirt again. He'll make you forget how to exist for a minute the next time he makes you squirt, and he'll tease you about it, but that's what he was going for.

He'll do it whenever. Some coworker got on your nerves? He'll bend you over the kitchen counter and get to work. Did he get dragged out to speak with Yujiro and the ogre pissed him off? He'll take you where you stand.

He's harder to get to squirt. He'll do everything he can to get around it, he'll even try flipping it on you, but even then, he's much less sensitive than the others, and will take a bit of work to get gushing.

Shibukawa:

Proud, smug, and he will tease you about it, about how hard you were cumming because of him, your expression, even the sound you made. However, it's a fond teasing, and he'll make it clear that it's only playful teasing.

He has no clue how he did it, despite what he might say. You ask him to do that again and he just chuckles and teases you, but it's so he can wrack his brain trying to remember exactly what he was doing to you before you came. He'll figure it out eventually though, he's clever.

He likes to make you squirt at the most inconvenient times. Are guests coming over in ten minutes? He's made you squirt all over the floor and now you have to clean that up and completely hide the evidence with only three minutes left.

He's almost as easy to make squirt as Jack is. You play around with him for a little and boom, there it goes. He's got nothing to say other than more playful teasing, but it's fine, just make him cum again and he'll shut up.

Motobe:

Smug, teasing and cocky. He's get your cum all over his chest and stomach, and all you'll see when you come back down from cumming is him smirking at you smugly. Brace yourself, is all I have to say.

He'll make you do it again and again until either he is satisfied or until you beg him to give you a break, and even then, he'll still keep shallowly fucking you with only his tip, it'll drive you insane.

You squirt whenever he wants. Sometimes he doesn't want to clean, and other times he's in a Fuck It mood and will make you cum all over his sheets. He'll wash them anyways, but still, just the thought of your cum staining them drives him insane.

It takes a bit of work to get him to squirt, but it is possible. He's like a hard medium difficulty. It's difficult, but not impossible, and he'll absolutely play it down. He'll be clawing at the sheets, cumming, rolling his eyes back and making noises, but the second he comes down he's like "Well that didn't suck. Was that all?"

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki dou #grappler baki #baki headcanons #baki hanma #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #shibukawa gouki #motobe izou

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circle--of--confusion · 3 months ago

Text

This Love is in Retrograde - Part 2

Chapter summary: Taking place after the ending of "The cardinal and the seamstress." Amelia is over Terzo's blatant flirting with siblings in front of her and confronts him about it. He asks to try again at being together and the question is, can Amelia allow herself the chance on herself again? Amelia ends up getting advice from a ghoul to help her see the light. Amelia is so stubborn, wow! lol

Author's note: Love confessions! More closet antics! Alex and Sarah from my other fic are here! cute Copia/Sarah moments! Ghouls! I attempted to write smut, It's my first time [hehe] so go easy on me. My song inspiration for this chapter was another Starset song "Earthrise" along with "Manifest" like part 1.

Paring: Terzo | Papa Emeritus III x OC Amelia

Chapter 2: AFTER

Words: 10.1k

Read on AO3

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

MASTERLIST

Tags: Explicit/MDNI; Angst; closet confessions; Terzo is a menace; love confessions; emotional sex; fluff; smut [vaginal fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex]; google translated itallian

banner creds to @gothdaddyissues

It’s been another night of mental betrayal. Her brain keeps conjuring up memories of Terzo. The good, the bad, and the sexy. She walks like a zombie down the hallways, a giant thermos of black coffee in her hand as “breakfast”. Does Amelia like black coffee? No, she hates it. Copia’s suits are finished and now it’s time to measure the new ghouls he’s summoned. By the time she’s made it to the sewing studio, Sarah and Alex have already arrived. Copia must’ve walked with Sarah because he’s there and hasn’t left her yet.

She nods in their direction as she passes them after entering through the door but her greeting is ignored. They’re a picturesque portrayal of two sickeningly sweet lovebirds off in their own little world. Copia and Sarah barely have any space between them as they hold each other and whisper sweet-nothings.

Amelia thinks her eyes might fall out at the intense eye-roll she makes. She begins to ready her sewing area for the day once she’s at her desk.

Sarah giggles. “Copia, my love, I need to get to work.” Her hand travels up to the side of his face and her thumb stokes lovingly on his cheek.

“Sarah, dolcezza mia, amore mio. I will be desperately counting the minutes until I can be in your glorious, bewitching presence again.” He leans down for one final kiss but when Copia pulls back, Sarah pulls him back forward for another one.

Alex walks over to Amelia as she observes them from across the room. “Wow! They’re really uh, locked in.”

She nods. “Yep. Young love.” Amelia waves her hand in the air and then waves her finger. “But If I hear one more lovesick pet name, I’m stabbing someone with my knitting needles.” She aggressively points over to the couple.

Alex sighs. He notices the thermos. “This is going to be a long day.”

She looks over to Sarah and Copia. “I’m goin’ in.” Amelia walks up to them and she claps her hands. The two separate, startled. “Dracule. Please allow my assistant to assist me. Don’t you have work to do?”

Copia looks annoyed and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I have a meeting with il piccolo stronzo.”

Amelia’s eyebrows knit together. “What does Terzo need to talk to you about?”

“Music stuff. He wants to give me tour advice, I think.” Sarah frowns. He tisks and grabs Sarah’s hands. “Oh, that won’t be for a while, amore.”

Sarah nods her head. “I know, I know. Though I feel like I just got you. I don’t want to see you go off for months at a time and leave me all alone.”

Amelia feels like she’s having an out of body experience. “Yeah, starting a relationship at the beginning of an album cycle isn’t a wise decision.” she responds flatly.

Alex snorts obscenely loud. Amelia whips her head around and Alex sobers up. “Uh.” he coughs. “Yeah. Poor timing.”

“Okie-dokie. Well, I hope you have a wonderful day, dolcezza mia.” Copia kisses Sarah’s hairline. “And I hope my ghouls behave enough. My new multi-ghoul can be a bit feral.” He laughs nervously.

“Don’t worry, Vladdy, I’ll keep him in line if anything happens.” Amelia assures him.

Sarah bats her hand in the air. “We have your suits ready to go. I think I’ve managed to get out of The Gauntlet unscathed.”

Amelia chuckles lowly. “Sarah, if you think his suits were the entirety of The Gauntlet, you have a bigger storm coming.” Amelia laughs and Sarah yelps.

Shortly after Copia leaves the studio do the ghouls arrive. Six new ghouls and one returning. Dewdrop. But now with a different element. Wonder what the story is there. He stares at Amelia; his eyes are the only thing she can see behind the chrome that covers the rest of his face. His head tilts. He could probably say the same for me.

“OK!” she grabs the tape measure. “In order to make this morning go by as smoothly as possible, I will measure you each, one at a time. My assistant Sarah,” she points in her direction “Will be taking my notes.”

One of the ghouls pipes up, Swiss, she thinks? “What does he do?” His thumb points over to Alex.

“I’m the eye candy.” he smiles waves his fingers. Amelia grumbles at him and Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m the every-man. I repair, mend, sew, find shit we might need. I can do it all! I have some mending requests for the siblings that I’m working on today.”

The ghouls nod their head. A couple of them give a thumbs up. “Hey! You’re like me. The multi-ghoul.” Swiss smiles.

“Dew, I will assume nothing’s been altered? I doubt changing elements modified your body that drastically.” She walks over to the next ghoul. Amelia has to nod her head further back. Mountain. She calls to Sarah.“Sarah, get me the longer tape measure, please?”

The ghoul shrugs his shoulders.

“What’s the plan with the costumes? Are they the same as the previous era?” Rain asks while she measures them. “We were able to talk with the other Papa’s ghouls.”

Amelia shakes her head. “No, these will look different. I plan to have them look similar to Copia’s suits but with a few changes.”

“Could Copia ever help give input on the costumes?” Sarah asks.

“No.” Amelia tersely replies. The room falls silent. She tries to defend the reaction. “It would turn into a thing. Also, it’s one less item for him to worry about! It’s a win! And if he really, actually hated it, I would make changes.”

One by one, each ghoul is measured and documented. Once Amelia was done with a ghoul, they either stood on the side or went to chat with Alex; she saw a few phone numbers being swapped. The morning gets away from them and the afternoon is filled with the sounds of paper rustling and being cut to form the pattern pieces that will become their costumes.

Every now and then a sister or brother will visit to pick up the article of clothing that was dropped off to be fixed by Alex. On their way out, a couple siblings looked over to Amelia as she watched them come and go. They gave a knowing smile to her and instantly her memories of the past shove their way back to the front of her mind. The last sister to give her that look is long gone by now but Amelia’s brain has left the station for the day. 4:14pm. Stick a fork in me, I’m done!

“I don’t think I can do any more tracing and cutting. How about we all call it a day?” she stands up from her table and stretches. “Sarah.” she yawns. “Alex and I have a clergy meeting tomorrow. You’ll be on your own for the first couple hours.”

She nods. “Okay! That’s no problem. I’m almost done with these pieces and then I can start on cutting mockups.”

Amelia claps her hands together and then sits down. “Great! You two can go, I’ll lock up. I have a couple things to clean.”

Alex and Sarah file out to get dinner, Amelia stays for a moment in her chair. The room is totally silent, save for the hum of the fan in the corner. Even now, nearly two years after Amelia left Terzo do the siblings feel the need to remind her of it. The noise in her head is deafening and she leans over the table with her head in her hands. After all the time that’s passed, she’s reached past the point of tears. She’s now angry. He’s being more obvious about it. Why?

“Fuck this!” she stands, grabs her now empty thermos, and heads out to grab dinner before it’s too late.

There are two people talking down the hall, around the corner. Who could still be here at this time? She rounds the corner to find-

“Oh, Papa!” a sister giggles. They lean against the wall, her back to Amelia’s direction. Terzo on the opposite end faces towards her. He leans towards the sibling. His suit that she made looks immaculate on him, of course. A few strands hang loosely in front of his face and his skull paint doesn’t even look smudged at this point of the day. He’s as perfect as ever and it torments Amelia every time. It’s too late she thinks. Terzo doesn’t seem like he would want to talk to me now about how we left things. How I left things.

He could do with less blatant flirting in her vicinity, though. Amelia rolls her eyes dramatically. Oh papa! She mimes and theatrically moves her hands to her chest, rolling her eyes while she passes by the two.

Terzo’s eyes flick up to see her walking by before he looks back to the sister. His mouth turns up into a smirk. “And what time will your Papa need to come by tonight?”

Amelia schools her face to not react until she’s passed. Her hands ball into fists and she grits her jaw once they can’t see her anymore. il piccolo stronzo indeed.

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning her and Alex pile into the meeting room with a few others; Papa Nihil, Sister Imperator, and Cardinal Copia included.

“Where is he?” Sister Imperator asks. “The meeting should’ve started thirty minutes ago!”

As if on cue, Terzo enters the room with a dramatic flourish. “Mi dispiace.” his face paint looks like it was applied in a rush. “My alarm didn’t go off on time.” He walks to his seat and sits down.

Sister Imperator stands. “Well, now that everyone is here, let’s begin.”

Sister drones on for most of the meeting about various clergy topics. She asks Copia about his songs and progress with the new ghouls. Amelia is asked on her costume plans. Sister then asks Terzo what he plans to do about the upcoming Black Mass and he takes a moment to respond. Because he’s asleep.

“Papa!” she slaps the table and his head falls forward before jerking up.

“Hu- what?” he blinks rapidly.

“The. Black. Mass. What are your plans?”

Amelia snorts to herself, badly concealing it. “Long night?” she condescends.

Terzo squints at her. “Thank you for the concern, Amelia.”

“Amelia…” Sister Imperator cuts in.

“It’s just,” Amelia continues “,so irresponsible! The rest of us were here on time. You showed up late. And now you fall asleep at the table?”

“Amelia!” she flinches. “You are dismissed.”

Her eyes go wide. “But Sister!” she defends. “I was trying to…”

“You failed. Now leave us.” Sister ordered. “You too, Alex. I have no need for the both of you two anymore.”

Amelia gets up with her tail between her legs. She walks out, Alex following closely behind her. “I’m so sorry.” he starts. “Amelia is just… on her period.” He cringes immediately, closing his eyes after he gets the door to the room closed behind him.

“Alex, what the fuck?” Amelia whisper-yells.

They walk down the hall to the sewing studio. “I should be asking the same.” he retorts. “You’ve never done that, ever.”

She sighs. “The siblings keep mocking me.” Alex raises an eyebrow. “They won, remember? In the fight between them and I for Terzo’s attention.”

“That doesn’t explain what just happened.” he shakes his head. “That was also two years ago and technically you surrendered.”

“No need to remind me.” she grumbles. Amelia takes a deep breath. “I was walking home last night after locking up and, well, I saw him and a sister talking.” Alex nods. “She was cute and giggly and I may have… mocked her as I was walking by.” She lowers her voice at the last bit.

“Amelia. How old are you again?” He scolds.

“I won’t justify that question with an answer.”

He sighs. “Well, you’re at least old enough to know better.”

“He was way worse! He said ‘when does Papa need to be there tonight?’ to her when he realized I was watching.” She huffs. “Prick.”

Alex groans. “I will admit, that is pretty prickish.”

Once they make it back to the studio, Sarah ambushes them at the door. Her phone is in her hands showing a recent text message, no doubt from Copia giving her the meeting info. “What happened?”

“More than I can possibly explain.” Amelia sighs.

◊◊◊◊◊

About half of the mockups are ready to be fit on the ghouls now. Alex, Sarah, and Amelia have all been wired in, focused on getting the mockups done in time. Throughout the two weeks of sewing, Amelia would mumble “Why did Copia have to summon so many ghouls?” while shaking her head and grumbling at the machine. For a handful of nights, the three of them would stay late into the evening to stay on track. Copia makes sure to pick Sarah up on their late nights. He dotes on his amore and asks if she needs anything and Amelia grumbles that it’s his fault they have to stay so late.

Mountain, Swiss, and Dew arrive one day to get fitted and it’s going well enough. Mountain’s pants need to be taken in slightly and she’s pinning in a couple areas when Sarah chuckles.

“What?” Amelia asks while she focuses on placing a pin.

“Oh, I remembered when you were fitting Copia’s suit and Papa Terzo walked in, complaining that you wouldn’t make his pants tighter.” she spoke. “And now it feels like you’re doing this to everyone else on purpose.”

There’s a knock on the studio door and in walks Terzo. “Hello?”

“Speak of the Devil.” She rolls her eyes.

He laughs dryly. “You flatter me, Amelia.”

“Oh my God.” She scoffs.

Terzo balks. “Lets not bring him into this.”

“Were you just waiting for your cue?” he holds up his hands in surrender. “Why are you here? We are a bit busy.”

“I need to talk to Alex about my shirt.” He defends.

Amelia is impatient. “Make it quick.”

The ghouls along with Alex and Sarah can sense the energy shift and the room is ominously silent for the rest of the session with the ghouls. Terzo speaks softly to Alex about getting a button on his cuff more secure and it’s fixed in a few minutes. Once he leaves, Amelia sighs with finality. Swiss, for the rest of the session has a curious look in his eyes. He whispers with Dew about something and Amelia can’t be bothered to eavesdrop.

Another afternoon goes buy for the sewists once the ghouls leave and at the end of the day, Alex and Sarah depart together for food while Amelia decides to finish a couple more seams and pattern adjustments. She finds a stopping point and locks up the studio to head home. Amelia turns down the hall and is met with the frustratingly handsome view of Terzo’s back; he’s leaning against the wall on his shoulder while he schmoozes to yet another sibling. A newly initiated brother of the clergy is hanging on Terzo’s every word. This is the last straw. The brother is caught off guard when his eyes land on Amelia’s vengeful expression while she grabs Terzo by the arm and walks, more like drags, him down the hall.

“Che diavolo stai facendo?”

Amelia pulls up to the all too familiar hall closet of the past and opens the door, gesturing to it. “Inside. Now.” She demands.

He looks at her with an unreadable expression, his paint not helping at all to give any hints, and walks in to the cramped space. Amelia follows in after him. She closes the door and turns on the light.

“What is your fucking problem?” She seethes.

Terzo is confused. He blinks and shakes his head. “My problem?” he spits out a chuckle and crosses his arms. “You are unbelievable.”

“Must you do that in my presence?” she gestures with her hand to the door.

“Are you shocked, jealous even that I’m using my free time on siblings and not on you?” he teases and tilts his head. “Did you think I was going to take up a vow of chastity when you left?” Terzo goads her.

“You never used to flaunt it in front of me until now.” her voice falters at the end. “It feels like you’re doing it on purpose.”

Terzo drops his arms and steps closer to Amelia. He points at her. “You left me, remember? I’ve been waiting and I may have begun to get a bit impatient in the recent weeks.”

It’s her turn to be confused now. “Waiting? Waiting for what?”

“For you to change your mind! For you to realize the incredibly foolish error you made when you left me that night!” He huffs.

Amelia puts her hands on her hips. “Because I’m a fucking idiot? I had my reasons, Papa.”

Terzo slaps his hands onto the shelves behind her, caging her in between his arms. Amelia flinches, her eyes flick to his and they’re on fire. She could swear his white eye was glowing. “No.” he growls. "I only ever wish to be Terzo to you, even if you’re mad at me. Please grant me at least this one request.” He asks, softly.

She nods her head rapidly and Terzo steps back to give her some space. “I had reasons for leaving that night and if I’d waited any longer, I would’ve been delaying the inevitable.” she replies softly. “Seeing how the siblings act smug around me, how I watch you indulge and flirt with the others… it confirms my fears. My reasons.”

“I understand your reasons, Amelia. I just also think at the time that they were silly.” she lets out a sarcastic laugh. His hands move to hold her face and he looks determinedly into her eyes. “When we were together, you were all I ever thought about. Because I love-“

“Please don’t finish that.” She interrupts. She’s getting choked up and he removes his hands from her face. “I’m not sure I can believe that it’s genuine when I hear them swoon about their mind-blowing nights with you.”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Tales of my sexual history the past couple years have been greatly exaggerated, Amelia.” He sounds annoyed.

“You haven’t done anything with them?” She asks.

“Well, no.” Amelia frowns. “But when I do, I keep it at arms’ length. I keep the paint on if I spend an evening with anyone. They get a night with Papa, no one else.” He says plainly.

“You’ve never…?”

He slowly raises his hand to cup her cheek. “I can’t bring myself to see anyone, to have anyone in the same way that we were. I would be wracked with guilt. To make love with someone, to lay myself bare in that way would feel like crossing a line.” Terzo once again holds Amelia’s face in his hands.

She can feel her eyes well with tears and his thumbs are ready to wipe any that fall. Amelia’s hands rise to hold his wrists in place and she closes her eyes. It’s not exactly what she’s wanted to hear, but it’s comforting in its own way. They stand like that for a moment, still and quiet. The sounds of their breaths fill the tiny closet as the seconds pass. They’ve released two years of pent-up frustration and now the adrenaline is gone.

“I’d like for us to begin anew.” he whispers. “The Cardinal is leading the band now and it’s only a matter of time before he is the next Papa of the Ministry. I will pass on the Papacy to him and then retire completely and I wish to spend the rest of my time with you by my side.” His thumb rubs softly on Amelia’s cheek.

“Terzo…” She finally says his name. Her voice cracks as she gets it out and her eyes open. He’s looking down at her with immense adoration and hope.

Terzo smiles wide. “Amelia.” he scans her face to figure out what she might say. His eyes linger on her down on her lips and on reflex, he leans forward.

The closet door opens to reveal a very confused and surprised ghoul. He’s one of Copia’s.

“Oh this isn’t the bathroom!” Swiss exclaims.

Terzo quickly removes himself from Amelia and steps back. One of his arms moves to sit behind his back and the other touches the back of his neck, his fingers brushing through the strands awkwardly.

“It’s uh. Down the hall after turning the corner. There should be a sign.” Amelia coughs out.

“Great. Thanks!” Swiss smiles wide enough his teeth show. He pats the doorknob. “You should probably lock it next time.” He laughs and closes the door to leave them alone.

Terzo and Amelia stare at each other in bewilderment. Their faces crack into smiles and laughter fills the small room.

“Copia’s ghoul has excellent timing.” He remarks.

“Yep.” She emphasizes the P sound.

Terzo moves to stand closer in front of Amelia and he grabs her hands to hold in his. “What I said earlier, you don’t have to answer it right now. Only when you’re ready, please let me know.”

Amelia nods. “I will. I promise.”

“Good.” He nods back and brings her hands up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

◊◊◊◊◊

Amelia was so drained after the confrontation with Terzo that after taking something to-go from the dining hall, she fell asleep easily and slept like the dead. The pressure in the past two years was released and her chest doesn’t feel so tight. Her shoulders feel a bit lighter the following morning and the alarm sounding off doesn’t feel as dreadful. On her way to the studio after getting breakfast, she’s decided on coffee with cream and sugar. She decided to treat herself and chose a hazelnut flavoring. Terzo’s almost confession of love replays and his proposal to start again sits in her mind.

“Good morning, everyone!” she calls to the studio. Her voice is cheery; Sarah and Alex glance to each other and squint their eyes towards Amelia. She sits at her desk and begins writing her to-do list, listing the items she needs to complete for the day. Her phone chimes.

--------

[Do Not Pick Up] 8:00 am

Did you know there is a missing Stanley Cup game winning puck? In 2010, the NHL team that won the trophy in a thrilling game 6 was not able to find the puck that secured the victory. Even the FBI got involved but it still hasn’t been found.

[Do Not Pick Up] 8:02 am

I don’t want it to be radio silence between us anymore, not after yesterday. So here, have a mystery of the day.

--------

I should probably change Terzo’s contact in my phone now Amelia thinks.

--------

Amelia 8:03 am

How do I unsubscribe from these? ;)

--------

Terzo 8:04 am

I’m afraid that’s not an option, tesoro.

--------

She laughs and it makes her feel giddy.

“You seem… chipper this morning.” Alex calls to Amelia. “What are you smiling at?”

“I have uh, downloaded an app that gives a mystery of the day!” She lies, hoping her blush is concealed enough.

“Uh huh.” Alex nods. “Because I thought, well, I read something interesting from Swiss yesterday when he texted me and-“

“Since when are you on texting terms with the ghouls?” Amelia interrogates.

He sits up straighter in his seat. “I only text with Swiss from time to time!”

“Well you can tell your ghoulfriend that-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! He’s not my ghoulfriend. He is a ghoul… that I know.” Alex defends.

“What did he say?” Sarah interjects.

“He said that on his way to look for the bathroom - some of the halls are still a bit confusing for him - he opened a door to find Terzo and Amelia in a closet in a very intimate position.” Alex reveals.

She gasps and covers her mouth with her hands. “No!”

“We didn’t do anything! We were just talking and well…” Amelia doesn’t know how to end the sentence. We did almost kiss.

Sarah looks over to her. “Oh, and FYI, it’s not a good idea to fuck in that closet. The shelves aren’t great back support.” Sarah scrunches up her nose.

“We weren’t fu- wait, what?” Amelia looks taken aback. She and Alex stare at Sarah.

Sarah blushes and looks up at the ceiling. “Remember a few weeks ago when I was complaining about my lower back hurting and I said it was because of my period?”

Amelia and Alex let out an affirmative “Ooooh” sound. An awkward silence falls over the room, then, and the three them wordlessly return back to their work.

◊◊◊◊◊

--------

Terzo 8:45 am

In 2015 there was a high profile cheese slicer theft. The world’s most valuable slicer was stolen from the Amsterdam Cheese Museum. Worth $28,000, covered in diamonds, it was snatched from the basement archives. A reward of a fancy cheese basket and fondue set was presented to anyone who could come forward with substantial tips.

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Terzo 8:36 am

In mid-winter, 1931, a Swedish ship the “SS Baychimo” became trapped at sea from the ice along the Alaskan coast. The crew abandoned ship to find shelter nearby and when they went to return to the ship, it was gone. 38 years later the vessel was spotted 50 miles from where it was originally abandoned and by the time a crew could be gathered to bring it to shore, it disappeared again. To this day, no recovery has ever been made of the ghost ship.

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Terzo 8:27 am

For nearly 300 years, the Pine Barrens of New Jersey have been called the home of the New Jersey Devil. It’s described as a long-necked, two-legged creature with hooves and wings. Its alleged origins begin in 1735 when a local woman was pregnant with her 13th child and right before it was born, she proclaimed “Let this one be the Devil!” and once it was born it sprouted wings, hooves, and a tail. To this day no one has been able to provide concrete proof of its existence.

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Terzo 8:53 am

Shakespeare’s works will always remain a mystery, specifically in the lost play “Love’s Labor’s Won”, the long-held belief that it is the sequel to “Love’s Labor’s Lost.” It was first referenced by writer Sir Frances Meres as he wrote about the playwright’s works. Some believe it was an alternative title to “Love’s Labor’s Lost” but other believe it was a play in its own right. No evidence of the show has ever been found other than second-hand references.

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Amelia 8:56 am

Where are getting these? I’ve been wondering about it for the past week.

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Terzo 8:57 am

Primo’s idea. I was gifted a desk calendar of daily mysteries a year ago but never used it. I’ve been skipping around since there’s no point following the order.

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Amelia 9:00 am

Yeah that sounds like him.

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◊◊◊◊◊

One evening after dinner, Amelia walks to the library to check out their hobbies section. She heard from a sister who works there that they recently acquired knitting reference books. Library hours have been recently extended and many siblings have taken advantage to study ancient texts or chat quietly. Tonight, the space is buzzing with activity; siblings look through the shelves or lounge on the comfy couches. The new knitting book selections were fruitful and she found one on circle yoke sweaters that piqued her interest along with a book of Japanese knitting patterns. She passes by the sitting area on the way out and has to do a double-take.

She finds Terzo sitting in a plush chair with a book in his hands. He has one leg crossed over his other knee and he’s changed out of his regular suit but still he wears dark purple dress pants and a black button up. The top two buttons are undone and he is wearing his reading glasses. She’s never seen him in the Papal paint with the glasses on and it’s all a sight for her eyes. It’s almost too much for her. His eyes however haven’t noticed Amelia yet. He’s been preoccupied with a brother of sin who can’t tell that Terzo really just wants to get on with his book.

She can’t conceal her giggle in time and Terzo looks up, following the familiar sound. He locks eyes with her across the room and winks her. She blushes and hides the book in front of her face then brings it back down a few seconds later. He hasn’t looked away and Amelia can sense something deep in her heart once again. The long-lost sensation of fluttering butterflies up to her chest. She smiles to Terzo and walks off to check out her books. She can somehow feel his eyes on her and she’s testing all of her will power to not look back.

◊◊◊◊◊

Today the three sewists have finally met their threshold. Even Amelia cannot keep up with The Gauntlet and on a sunny Thursday Sarah, Alex, and Amelia take the day to rest and recharge.

She decides to walk in the courtyard for a bit to think. Their non-stop sewing marathon for the ghouls has prevented her from fully giving Terzo’s proposition a proper consideration and she wonders if fresh air will help to clear her mind. She talks to herself, gesturing wildly down a path and some siblings walk by her will funny looks. Yeah, that’s probably fair she thinks. Amelia finds a quieter, less populated section and sits down so she can think out loud in private.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s fully moved on.” she says to herself. “But would he really take another chance on me?”

“Would you?” a voice cuts in from further down the pathway.

“Dew? Am I interrupting something? Should I move?” Amelia calls out. He walks closer and sits down next to her on the bench.

“Not at all. Did I interrupt something?” Dew responds with a playful lilt in his voice. She can’t see his face due to the chrome mask but she can tell he’s smirking.

“I’m just thinking out loud about something.” She sighs.

“I could tell.” he nods. “Well, don’t let me get in the way.” Dew leans back on the bench, threading his fingers together and leaning his head back in his hands. “So, Would you?”

“Would I what?” she asks.

“Would you take another chance on yourself?” He nods his head towards her.

She’s silent for a moment. “I’d like to say ‘yes’ but I’m not sure.”

“I don’t know what you two were for each other, but when you left, Terzo was a wreck for a long time.”

Amelia turns to look fully at Dew while he continues to look forward. “I didn’t know that.” she looks down at her hands in her lap. “He always seemed so put-together.”

Dew sighs through his nose. “Only for the clergy, never around us. Going on tour was one of the few ways he could feel normal even if he was playing a version of himself at times. When Terzo didn’t have any obligations, he became a recluse.”

Amelia breathes a deep sigh. “I’m an asshole.” She drops her head into her hands.

“No, you’re not.” Dew sits up straight and moves his head to face Amelia. His left hand pats her knee. “Humans are terrible with emotions. What is it you all like to use as an excuse? Fight or Flight?”

“I flew, I know, I know! But when he came home that night I… The paint on his mouth was smudged and he had kiss marks on his clothes!” she waves one of her hands in the air.

“He kept pushing the sister away but she was very persistent with Papa. One of us had to escort her out once she got to his neck.” he tilts his head to the side. “And if I remember correctly, his face paint was smudged from kissing foreheads all night. He kept professing that the only lips that would touch his from now on were yours.”

The entire night comes crashing down in Amelia’s mind. Her eyes feel misty and she sniffles. A tear sits dangerously close to falling down her cheek. “I didn’t know.” Amelia wipes at her eyes. “He said the kiss marks meant nothing to him and I didn’t even let him explain his mouth.”

“So, you accused him of infidelity and then didn’t let him defend himself?” he said incredulously. “You ghosted a man who looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky.”

“I couldn’t allow myself to believe that he could completely… love… me.” She almost cringes.

Dew chuckles and she swats at him. “Do you really think you are so awful? Terzo is flirty, sure, but he likes making people happy as Papa. Your happiness meant the world to him above all else.”

“I just didn’t see what was so special about me.” she looks down and picks at her fingernails. “I knew he cared about me like I cared about him but there was always a nagging thought in the back of my mind that he would meet someone so in awe of him and he’d forget about me.”

Dew chuckles. “Yeah, you’re not an asshole. You’re an idiot.” Amelia shoves him. “Hey!”

“I’m happy to hear that my inner turmoil is hilarious to you.” She deadpans.

He stands up and placed his hands behind his back. He tilts his head down to look at her and Amelia tilts her head to look up at him. “You need to tell him these things. I can’t tell you why he loved you so much but I know he did and it broke his heart every day when you were gone.”Amelia nods with determination and Dew turns to leave.

--------

Amelia: 5:45 pm

I’m ready to give you my answer.

--------

◊◊◊◊◊

The following evening Amelia takes careful, tentative steps to Terzo’s apartment. He’d asked for her to come have dinner with him while they talk. With shaky hands she takes a deep breath and then knocks on his door. After a few seconds, it opens to reveal him and he’s wearing a pair of black pants and a comfy dark green sweater; Terzo’s face is bare, free from any paint he’d worn that day. Her mind flashes back to the last time she’d seen his face that way. It was earlier in the night before it all went to hell two years ago.

“Ciao, Amelia.” He nearly whispers his hello. It feels like if he speaks any louder, she might run off.

“Hello.” She smiles. Terzo steps back to let her in and closes the door once she’s inside.

“Thank you for coming.” he glances at her outfit. He chose simple black jeans and a red button up blouse with bishop sleeves. She blushed slightly under his watchful eye. “You look beautiful as always.”

“Thank you.” She whispers. “You…too.”

Terzo gestures to the table he has set up. He guides Amelia to take a seat while he walks over to plate their meal for the night. “Fettuccine al Pomodoro. The tomatoes are fresh from Primo’s garden.” He smirks. “I got permission this time.”

Amelia laughs and he smiles wide at her reaction. “I’m sure he was happy you’d asked.”

He brings over their plates and then sits down across from her while they begin to eat their meal. The pair eat in silence, only occasional hums of approval or fork scratching sounds float into the room. He eats a few bites off of his plate but mostly watches Amelia as she savors hers. When they’re finished, he takes their plates and silverware to the sink and clears the table. Amelia gingerly rests her palms on the table, Terzo puts his elbow on the table to and rests his head in his hand. He looks at her expectantly.

Is he waiting for me to start? she thinks. “So, I came here tonight to give you my answer, Terzo.”

He nods his head softly. “And… what do you say?” He watches Amelia, almost pleading.

She lets out a deep breath. “I say yes.” He sits up straight in his chair. “Yes, I want to be with you. To try this again.”

“A-Amelia I am delighted to hear it.” Terzo scoots his chair to sit closer to Amelia. His knees bump into hers in his enthusiasm to be nearer to her.

“We need to talk first, though. I have some things I need to say.” She looks down at her lap.

He takes her hands into hers. “Whatever you have to say, please say it.”

“First, I want to say I’m sorry. I’ll say it as many times as I need to-” Terzo lightly squeezes her hands and it cuts off her train of thought.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“But I do. I acted out of fear. I didn’t let you defend yourself. I thought a sibling was finally able to woo you enough to convince you of my irrelevancy. I didn’t let you explain and I jumped to conclusions and left.” her voice shakes. She feels her eyes becoming misty. “I t-thought you’d finally found someone who was s-so amazed by who you were and that they’d become more interesting than me-” Amelia sniffles and a tear falls down her cheek. Terzo brings her in to his chest while his arms wrap around her back in a snug embrace.

“Amelia I wouldn’t, couldn’t ever think someone was more important than you.” His right hand moves up to stroke through her hair a few times. Amelia’s hands tentatively wrap around his waist and pulls him closer.

She sniffles again. “I couldn’t understand at the time, I still don’t really understand now, why you think I’m so special.”

He moves back to look at Amelia. “Can I tell you?” His thumbs softly wipe at the tears around her eyes. She nods. “Of everyone I’ve ever known in this ministry, you were like my one constant. My family, the Emeritus legacy, makes people treat me differently. Siblings think of me as this tantalizing higher power and the other Bishops and Cardinals try to suck up to me so when I became Papa, I don’t randomly fire them or relocate them.” he smiles. “Throughout the couple decades I’ve known you, every time I spoke with you, I was always some stronzo named ‘Terzo’ and I admired your consistency even when I technically should’ve corrected you at times. I can’t help but be attracted to how you didn’t give a shit about my title.”

“I don’t like putting people on pedestals.” Amelia squeak out. “Also, I’m pretty sure Sister Imperator would have the final say in any relocations anyway.”

“Probably.” he lifts her chin up. “Do you understand, now?” Terzo searches her eyes.

She nods. “I think so.” Amelia leans her forehead against Terzo’s and closes her eyes.

“When you left me that night,” Terzo begins, softly. “,it felt like a part of me left with you.” He pulls back from her forehead. “You are one of few people who know me this intimately. I was hurt, Amelia, that you would think of me so poorly.” It’s Terzo this time to look down at his hands.

She grabs his hands into her own, rubbing small circles on his palms. “I think… I just got caught up in everything, mentally. You always reassured me, and when we were around each other I was fine. I could feel your love even if we never spoke it. But then you had more obligations, more events that would take you from me.” she lets out a shaky breath. Terzo squeezes Amelia’s hands as a small reassurance. “And then there were the looks from the siblings. It’s like they were angry, Terzo. They acted like I took something from them.”

“It pains me to hear that they felt so entitled of me in that way. I had my moments of intense devotion from the siblings so to speak, but I wasn’t aware of the extent of their spite towards you.”

Her emotions get the best of her and she feels tears welling in her eyes again. “I tried to hide how it felt as much as I could. You genuinely care for the congregation and the funny thing is, in a way, I don’t blame them. I’d hear the stories of siblings spending a night with you after I left and below all of the gloating and bravado,” deep breath “,I could tell that it was still special for them. You are Papa and that means something in this ministry.”

He huffs. “I feel guilty now for my flaunting earlier and my rendezvous. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “No, please don’t! I thought I was setting you free. I should be sorry that I couldn’t block out the noise and not let it get to me.” A small tear falls down her cheek. Amelia takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Terzo coos softly and wipes the wet streak from her cheek. “Oh, please no more tears, amore? We’ve shed enough of those for a lifetime.”

We? She looks into Terzo’s eyes and sitting this close, looking at him without the paint, she notices just how exhausted he looks. How many sleepless nights had she unknowingly given him? Amelia’s hand rises up to cup his face. Her thumb brushes lightly on his cheek and his eyes flutter shut. She grazes her thumb down to softly brush along his lower lip. Amelia tries to remember what Terzo’s lips felt like on hers but it feels like a faint memory at this point. He gasps lightly when he feels her remove her hand from his face.

“Amelia.” he whispers.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He all but begs her.

Amelia nods her head and Terzo’s hands hold her face firmly. He kisses her like he hasn’t kissed anyone in a century. She’s almost overwhelmed at the way he pours his affection into her and Amelia’s hands go to rest on his shoulders for stability. Tired of leaning awkwardly, she lifts from her chair without breaking their kiss to straddle his lap. One of her hands slide up to thread her fingers in his hair. In her enthusiasm, she tugs lightly on the strands and he hums deep in his chest. Terzo smiles and Amelia can feel the way his lips perk up against hers.

Terzo’s hand starts a path from her waist down to Amelia’s lower back and he pulls her further into his lap. The passionate assault on each other’s mouths continues and now their tongues battle for dominance. Amelia’s arms around his head pull his face even closer to hers and she shifts in his lap to feel flush with his body. A matching set of satisfied hums are exchanged.

His hand moves once again, further down her body to grab at the curve of her bottom to give a light squeeze. His hips shift under her slightly and she begins to notice the growing bulge below in Terzo’s lap. The feeling stirs up a forgotten tingling sensation back in her lower stomach. She swivels her hips, grinding down lightly as a test and Terzo leans back, ending the kiss with a groan and breathy laugh. His eyes open and he smiles at Amelia who’s looking back with the same expression. She begins to look down and frown and he angles her chin to look back up at him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” he asks. Terzo’s hands rest on either side of her hips. “What’s going on inside your head?”

“I’m not sure if it’s wise to take things further tonight.” Her eyes dart around the room and she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his palms rub softly on her side. “If you would like to stop, we can.”

“Here’s the thing: I don’t want to stop.” She admits, looking down sheepishly.

“Then we won’t.” Terzo smiles.

She nods and then they lean in for another round of kisses. After a moment, his restless hand slides under her shirt to move up and palm her chest and his mouth starts to kiss down her jaw to end on up on her neck. He squeezes lightly at her chest and Amelia whimpers into the air, pressing down on his lap which in turn earns a groan from Terzo. They’ve started grinding against each other at a slow, lazy pace while he bites at her neck, no doubt leaving a bruise for tomorrow. She can’t stand the teasing anymore after a while.

“Terzo.” She breathes.

He plants one last pronounced kiss to her neck before pulling back to at her. “Yes?” Terzo asks with half-lidded eyes and a smirk.

“Take me to bed.”

He smiles wide. They stand up from the chair and he takes her hand, placing a small kiss to her knuckles before leading the familiar path to his bedroom. The two stand on the side of his bed, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. Amelia nods quickly at Terzo and he raises his hands to begin unbuttoning her blouse. She watches him while his focus is trained on the small buttons and once the last one is released from its buttonhole, she helps to shrug the shirt off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor beside her. Amelia’s hands grab at the hem of his sweater.

“Your turn.” She chuckles. He smiles and raises his arms for her to lift the garment away. She runs a hand down his soft chest hair and rests it on his hips. Her other hand’s fingers brush themselves through his hair, fixing it after it became disheveled when he took off his sweater. She pulls him in for a small kiss and Terzo’s hands rest on her shoulders.

He tugs on her bra strap and whispers into her lips. “We forgot something.” He smirks.

Amelia rolls her eyes and unclasp her bra before pulling it off, to follow the path her blouse took to sit on the floor. Now free of its confines, Terzo’s hands slide to fondle her chest. His thumb runs over one of her pebbling nipples and she gasps at the sensation. In retaliation, Amelia’s hand lowers to caress the prominent bulge poking at her hip. Terzo groans and he lets out a sigh. With a sudden urgency, her hands rush to the button on Terzo’s slacks and she expertly unbuttons them. Pulling the zipper down she pushes the pants down his legs and it gives some relief to Terzo’s sensitive, aching cock in his briefs. He loudly sighs into the room. Her pants are next to go and together they remove their underwear to end up fully exposed for each other now.

He leads her backwards to the edge of the bed and whispers in her ear for her to lay down against the pillows. Terzo is facing Amelia, lying beside her on his right side and he leans down to kiss her lips softly. His fingertips trace an invisible trail from her collar bone, down through her chest to her stomach. “Please, let me show you what you mean to me?” His fingers ghost down her stomach to her slightly spread open legs. He grabs at the soft flesh on the inside of her thigh and his thumb rubs small soothing circles.

Amelia nods her head. “Yes, please.” She breathes out. Her eyes close and his hand slides up her leg. She instinctively opens her legs wider to give Terzo better access and his fingers tentatively run along the enticingly slick lips between her legs; they both gasp in unison at the feeling. Terzo smiles, happy he can elicit such a reaction from her. Amelia is already sensitive from their kissing and grinding earlier and now just a feather-light swipe from his fingers is enough to have her squirming. He continues, slowly grazing his fingers from her lips to her clit, pressing down ever so slightly before moving back down. Amelia can’t help but fidget in her spot, gifting Terzo with small whimpers and mewls signaling her pleasure. She’s so wet, his fingers slide with barely any resistance.

She gasps when Terzo slowly inserts a finger at her entrance. She can feel the tight fluttering below becoming more intense and she’s close to falling over under his spell. After a short while, he pushes a second finger in, curling the digits and it’s all so much. Between his thumb slowly rubbing on her clit and the two fingers inside, she nearly yells to him. “Terzo I’m so,” she huffs “,close-“

“Please, amore, come for me.” He begs and she can’t help but comply.

One final curl from Terzo’s fingers cause Amelia to fall into her orgasm, sighing out ‘Terzo’s with a smile. He softly rubs her clit a few times as she rides out the high before slowly removing his hands from her pussy and licks her release from his fingers. She watches him as he closes his eyes and hums and savors the taste of her on his fingers. When she looks down, she realizes he hasn’t given himself any attention and his cock looking beautifully red and flushed, leaking at the tip. It’s standing at attention against his stomach, aching for some relief.

She leans her head up lock eyes with Terzo and he leans down to kiss her. She can taste some of the lingering essence of herself on Terzo’s tongue when they deepen the kiss. She pulls back slightly. “You look like you could use some help.” Amelia smirks.

Her hands move slowly to his tip, spreading some of his pre come with her thumb and he hisses, his head falling back. Terzo releases a soft whimper when she removes her hand for a moment to spit in it and then lowers it back down to wrap her hand around him. Using his own slick and her spit now, she gives small tugs, letting him savor the sensation. He’s rested his forehead against hers, moaning as she continues to pump his cock. More pre come starts to leak out and she collects it to give a better glide down his shaft. He rushes to stop Amelia before he can get too worked up.

“I won’t last very long if you keep going, Amelia.” He smiles awkwardly.

“I want you to feel good, too. That’s the point, Terzo.” She smiles.

He lifts his forehead away from hers. Terzo moves from his position on the bed beside her to leans his body over hers, settling between her legs. His hand rests on the side of her face. “Not if I plan to give you another orgasm with my cock.” He leans down to steal the gasp from her lips. Her hands fly to the back of his head, pulling him closer. He lines himself up with her entrance and slowly, he leans in, taking his time for them to get familiar with the stretch of her around him. He groans into her neck “You torture me, amore.”

She feels him push a little further more inside. “I can say - ah - the same about you right now.” The both let out a breathy chuckle. He leans up to kiss her fully while he pushes the last of his cock inside, buried to the hilt. He swallows her gasp and he lets Amelia settle into the feeling of being so full of him after being so long a part. Her hand moves to stroke his cheek and she nods slightly. “You can move now, Terzo.”

He shifts his hips, thrusting in and out at a slow pace. She soon starts to feel a familiar fluttery feeling deep below and Terzo smiles down at her. Her hips move with him to help form a steady rhythm. “Are you ready to come again so quickly, amore?”

“You feel so good.” She rolls her eyes when he gives a particularly deep thrust in that moment. “It’s hard to resi – oh just like that” She pants.

“I’m reaching my limit, Amelia. Are you almost there?” He asks, panting against her face.

She nods furiously. “Mhm. I’m close.” Her hand moves to rub over her clit while Terzo continues to thrust in and out in and out at a hurried pace. Terzo’s lips on hers, the delicious stretch from the feeling of him inside inside her and her fingers on her clit are all too overwhelming and it’s enough to have Amelia toppling over into her second orgasm of the night; it feels like all of her nerves are being stimulated at once. The convulsions of her inner walls around Terzo’s cock give enough for him to come soon after Amelia, filling her with his own release. They mouth at each other’s moans as the two ride out their highs before Terzo’s arms give out, his body settling onto her chest. He mouths a few kisses to her breast, over her heart. Amelia cards her fingers though his hair while they lay there, content, letting their breaths even out

Terzo slips out a short while later after he’s softened and he gets up to bring a wet washcloth over to clean Amelia and himself up. The two cuddle in silence for some time, his arm wraps around Amelia and she feels at peace, finally. Overcome with affection, she turns her body to look at Terzo, her hand comes to rest on the side of his face.

“I love you, Terzo.”

He leans forward to kiss her lips, lingering there for a few seconds. He pulls back with a smile. “Ti amo, Amelia.”

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning, Amelia is roused from her slumber when she feels the soft pecks on her shoulder down to her arm from the man behind her. Terzo notices her eyes are open. He tightens his arm around her and gives her a soft “Good morning, amore.” His voice is still gruff from sleep.

She sighs dramatically. “It would be if someone hadn’t woken me up.” Amelia turns around to face him.

Terzo smirks. He leans his lips down to stop at the corner of her mouth. “Mi dispiace! Would you prefer I stop?”

Amelia snorts and rolls over to her back. Terzo takes this as an opportunity to drape himself on top of her, kissing all of the newly exposed skin he couldn’t reach earlier. He kisses and nips from her mouth down to her chin. He moves further down to her collar bone, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake to the curved peak of her breast where he’s stopped for the time being. He rests his head in her chest and her fingers settle in his hair. She finds a small number of gray strands and Amelia thinks it makes him all the more beautiful.

“Making up for lost time?” She jests.

He raises onto his arm and moves back up Amelia’s body. “si, Amelia, and I fear I will not be able to let you leave this room as a result.” Terzo drapes his arm over her stomach and he plants a small kiss to the point at her shoulder.

She laughs and, in that moment, it sounds like music to Terzo’s ears. “I’m eventually going to have to go back to my job, Terzo.” She raises an eyebrow. “That includes leaving this room.”

He begins kissing down Amelia’s body once again. “I’ll have a sewing machine brought to my room.” He smiles into her stomach. His eyes flick up to hers.

Amelia can feel herself getting worked up and his watchful gaze below her isn’t helping. “I-We’ll have to eat!” She reasons. Terzo moves down to kiss the side of her hips and she squirms in her spot.

“I’ll have a ghoul bring us food when we get hungry.” He’s settled his body lower, between her legs. Terzo raises one of her thighs to pepper kisses on the inner flesh. “Because I am not going to spend another minute,” he kisses her thigh again and she sighs. “,where I’m not touching you or looking at your beautiful face.”

“How can I argue with that?” She breathes heavily from his adoration.

He laughs while he moves back up to lay down beside Amelia. “Somehow I believe you could.”

She scoffs.

They spend the rest of the morning in each other’s arms, catching up from the past two years or just simply existing with each other in silence. At some point Amelia decides she needs a shower and Terzo comes along to “help” her. After a very handsy, sudsy time in the shower, the couple emerge fresh and clean. She borrows a robe from Terzo until she can get some new clothes and lounges in the bed while he calls for a ghoul to bring him breakfast.

The ghoul arrives, Dew she thinks she hears, arriving and bringing in a package of food. She walks up to hear their conversation and catches Dew off guard.

“Well, when you said you needed me to bring food to your room, I was worried that you’d gone back into your old – Oh.” He stops when Amelia enters the room. “Ah. I see.”

Amelia blushes and looks down, crossing her arms over the robe. “Hey, Dew…”

His eyes flick between the two for a couple seconds. “Well, uh, let us know if you need more food later! I’m sure you two are famished.” Dew cackles.

Terzo shoos the fire ghoul away and closes the door behind him. He turns around and walks over to Amelia. “I have to admit, I am a bit hungry.”

◊◊◊◊◊

True to his word, Terzo didn’t let Amelia out of his sight for the entire weekend. They were holed up away in their own tender, affectionate world and come Monday morning the bubble was burst. He begrudgingly allowed Amelia to leave and go to work, lamenting how she was “so cruel to leave him all alone” as he reapplied his papal paint for his own work day.

She laughs as he clings to her body as she creeps closer to his door. Her hands grab at his waist and she leans into his ear. “Walk me to work?”

And that he does! They stride arm-in-arm from his room to the sewing studio, passing a few clergy members and siblings on the way. He gives a light squeeze to her arm at every person they pass as a small sign of reassurance and she for once doesn’t even think about anyone else in that moment besides the man lovingly holding her to him. Amelia looks over and kisses his cheek lightly once they reach the hall the studio resides.

She’s the last to arrive, Alex and Sarah having beat her to it. She figures that would be the case as Terzo nearly convinced her to play hooky but her brain decided to think rationally at the last minute.

“Well look who decided to show u-” Alex calls, stopping mid-sentence when he realizes Terzo is with Amelia. “Hello.” He says with a slightly smug expression.

Sarah and Copia, not having left yet, bow their head towards them. “Hello Papa.”

Terzo nods at them and then turns back to Amelia. He raises her hands to his lips to leave a lingering kiss to her knuckles. He leaves a black and white lip stain to her hand she giggles.

Alex dramatically rolls his eyes. “Not you too! Am I going to have to start bringing a spray bottle with me to work, now?”

“Is that how you speak to your Papa?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Amelia can tell he’s joking but with the paint on his face, it’s hard for others to tell.

“Well, I, uh. I’m so sorry your Eminence. I didn’t mean-“ Alex stumbles.

Terzo laughs and then waves a hand in the air. “I’m fucking with you. Though if you ruin my paint because of a spray bottle, we will have issues.”

“Yes. Of course.” Alex flashes an awkward smile and then turns to the work prepped on his desk.

Terzo smiles and looks back to Amelia one more time. His hand cups her cheek and he leans down to give her a deep, passionate kiss goodbye. Amelia’s hand threads her fingers through his hair and pulls him in deeper, not wanting to let him go.

“Ugh get a room, you two.” Copia pipes up. Sarah swats at his arm.

Amelia interrupts the kiss, much to Terzo’s dismay, to look pointedly at Copia. “Stones and glass houses, Copia.”

Terzo responds with a deep laugh and in that moment, Amelia thinks she wants to hear that for the rest of her life.

Also, FYI, I had a mystery of the day calendar last year and that's where I got the ones that were mentioned. lol. Thank you to all that have read, comented, liked, or kudo'd this, I appreciate it!

Translation:

- il picolo stronzo [the little asshole]

- Che diavolo stai facendo? [what the hell are you doing?]

- tesoro [treasure]

- Stronzo [asshole

- ti amo [I love you]

#terzo x oc #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x ox #terzo fanfiction #my fics #ghost fic #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #personal #i still can never figure out the tags lol #ghost

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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year ago

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Ducky hi I hope this isn’t a bother but I have an oddly specific emergency request??

I’ve been struggling with atypical anorexia for years. I keep gaslighting myself that it’s not that bad because I’m not skinny enough to look sick. I feel like it’s no big deal because it wouldn’t hurt for a fat girl like me to stop eating right? Hah sorry. Bad joke…

anyways, I saw that you write for Genshin and I was wondering if I can have Cyno and/or Tighnari comfort me? It can be separate or together but maybe can you make it that we’re classmates and he/they notice us?

thank you for even taking the time to read this and I hope you have a really good day 🥲

Oh my god anon hi

It’s like my brain was fucking cloned and copied into yours.

Fear not my liege, I’ll do both of them bc I’m infatuated with them both.

This is EXACTLY what I face on the daily.

I hope this isn’t too triggering because I really projected into these. I kinda just emptied my mind into the doc

(Oh no, Cyno’s got long)

I want you to know that you are deserving of food. No matter your size, food is fuel and you NEED to eat.

CW BELOW THE CUT: Reader has An0r3xia, Symptoms of An0r3xia, Self-hatred and Self-depreciation Ducky is essentially venting in this post

ALL REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!! THIS IS AN OLD REQUEST

𝑇𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑖

The course of your life changed long ago, and you can’t exactly remember what “inspired” you to take the path that you did. However, you’d been plagued with negative thoughts for years, and decided to take action.

What you didn’t take into account was the people that you would hurt in the process…

Tighnari wasn’t expecting you to enter his life. You were a Haravatat student, and he was an Amurta student. Your paths were not technically supposed to cross. But, somehow you both ended up in the same required arithmetic class.

The first day went as always, your professor would explain the outline of the course, you’d introduce yourself to your seat-mate, and that would be it.

Little did you know, your seat-mate would be the one to save you from yourself…

The fennec leaned over to you, and in a whispered voice said, “If he doesn’t stop talking about his cat, I might just walk out.”

You giggled a little, to his delight, replying, “Walking? Man, you’re calm. I’m ready to drop out entirely.”

You earned a snort in reply. You watched the student next to you try not to erupt into laughter. “Tighnari.” He managed through his scattered breaths.

“(Y/N).” You replied with a smile. “Need any water? You’re looking a little…”

“Mm mmnh, fine, fine. I’m fine…” He blew an exhale through his lips as he gently fanned himself with his hand. “No laughing here.”

From that moment on, the two of you became friends. Your torturous arithmetic class became your favorite part of the day, and you looked forward to seeing Tighnari every time you went.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end. Your disorder had caught up with you, and you started to behave differently.

You started to slowly deteriorate. You became more reserved, nauseous and irritable. Your daily caloric intake sunk drastically, and you did not feel good whatsoever. Every time you stood, gravity was begging for you to go back down.

Ideally, this was not what a human should face, but this is what you greatly desired deep down. The pain in your stomach, head, knees, chest, it all meant that you were doing what you thought you needed to do.

One day during arithmetic, you were completely spaced out. You couldn’t focus on anything aside from your pounding head and starving stomach. A loud growl emitted from your abdomen, but you could scarcely hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Tighnari looked upon you worriedly, noticing you gag while your professor talked about the breakfast he had. When class was dismissed, you practically jumped to your feet to leave, promptly causing you to stumble and brace yourself on him for support.

“(Y/N)-“

“I’m… I’m fine.” And with that, you quickly left the room and rushed to the top floor of the library, in a spot that only you and your best friend knew about. After climbing the stairs, you fell onto the beanbag chair, panting heavily and holding your throbbing head. What was wrong?

You didn’t have much time to focus on why you were feeling so feeble, due to hearing frantic footsteps climbing the stairs behind you.

“Please, go away,” you whimpered as you tried to calm yourself. “I don’t want anyone to see me. Please just leave me alone.”

“I’d be a fool to leave you like this.” The person sat down next to you, looking at you with sympathetic eyes.

You looked to your left to meet aquamarine colored irises, blaring holes through you. “Tighnari…” With a wobbling lip, your tears started to bubble up again.

“I’m here… I’m here… it’s okay,” he soothed, moving to kneel in front of you. “What’s going on?”

“I… I-“ you wanted nothing more to explain, but would he believe you? You didn’t look sick enough, so who were you to claim you had an eating disorder. “I’m j-just not fee-feeling well.” You lied

“(N/N), please don’t lie to me…” he begged. “I may be reaching way too far out of proportion, but-“ his face screwed into one of sympathy as he looked at your terrified eyes, securing his fears. “With everything I’ve been noticing-“ he sighed. “If… If you’re having problems eating, you can tell me.”

You froze, breath stopping completely. “I-I don’t have-“ you scoff in disbelief at him. How did he figure that out from just your symptoms? “Look at me, Tighnari. I’m too fat to have an eating disorder.”

“Anyone of any size can have an eating disorder.”

“Not someone like me.” You shook your head as pitiful laughter bubbled out of you. “Someone like me doesn’t have an eating disorder. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I never make any progress. That’s kinda how it works, and I can’t manage to make it work.”

“I’m obsessed with what I eat and how much I eat, and no one fucking believes me. Archons, it wouldn’t matter to the public if I just completely stopped eating. It would honestly be better knowing that I wasn’t stuffing my face all of the time. Maybe I’d actually drop a few pounds if I-“

“(Y/N).” The archer’s heart sank to the ground as he heard what you thought of yourself.

“What?”

“Can I please give you a hug?”

You paused, taking in his face. Tighnari looked absolutely distressed, almost as if he was about to cry. “Y-Yes please.” You whimpered.

Without further need for conversation, you slumped your head against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and another around your shoulders as his hand cradled the side of your head. His padded thumb gently stroked your cheek.

“You, (N/N),” he began. “Are absolutely beautiful.”

The words made your breath catch in your lungs.

“I think you’re stunning atop of being your size. You don’t need to be a certain weight to be beautiful, you just need to be yourself. There will never not be someone trying to get under your skin, but it’s important that you stay positive. It’s like my mother always said: not everyone will want to be your friend, and that’s okay.”

The fennec sniffled, using his thumb to wipe his eyes. “What I’m saying is: you don’t have to change yourself for someone else to think you’re worthy. You brighten my life just by being alive, please don’t try to change who you are.”

“It absolutely breaks my heart to hear what you think about yourself.” Guilt washed over you as you heard his voice start to break with sniffles and tears. “A-And I don’t know h-how I’d manage if I-I lost you… (Y/N), I can’t b-bear to have to think of burying my b-best friend.”

You closed your eyes as your lip wobbled. It wasn’t long before a sob ripped from your throat and you broke down in loud lamentations.

He held you tighter, eyes closed, hot tears running down his cheeks, as he allowed you to finally release all of the woes and feelings that you had been holding in for so long.

“I’ve got you…” he whispered. “Don’t worry about a thing…”

It took a while for you to calm down, but ultimately, you did. You laid still in Tighnari’s embrace, playing with a few locks of his hair that hung loosely in front of you. “I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble…”

“Don’t be.” He replied with a patient grin, eyes focused on the people outside. “I’m just glad that you told me. To be honest, I was missing your usual quips in arithmetic.”

You snorted in amusement. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

He cocked a brow and pursed his lips. “(N/N), my only other source of “comedy” is Cy-“

“Nevermind.” You interrupted.

The fennec snorted and burst out into boisterous laughter. You couldn’t help but mirror his action, giggling over the lack of hesitation in your answer.

As seconds passed, and the two of you laughed, the tears that were in your eyes were replaced by ones of mirth. When the laughter subsided, you laid lax against his torso, sighing in contentment.

Maybe Tighnari would be right after all…

𝐶𝑦𝑛𝑜

Cyno has always been a very detail oriented person. He’s keen at catching tiny things that others may overlook.

It was the end of the academic year and final examinations were coming around. The Kshahrewar students decided to host a huge party, and your dearest friend was begging you to go with him.

You wanted nothing more than to deny, for you knew your ED would ruin the night. You had been caught in a pretty bad relapse lately, and you dared not to tell Cyno.

Regardless, you swallowed your fears and agreed with a patient smile.

“Great.” His lips upturned into a gentle grin. “I can’t wait.”

That evening, you spent hours looking for something to wear. Every outfit had some sort of issue, and you never found yourself satisfied with what you had on.

Eventually, you decided on the outfit that you hated the least, texted Cyno to alert him of your departure, and left your dorm feeling uneasy.

When you arrived at the party, you found your best friend analyzing the refreshment table, plate in hand. You made your way over to him, taking in his simple, yet fashionable, clothing choice.

“Hey.” He smiled as he looked at you. He caught glimpse of your outfit and whistled, “You look hot, (N/N).”

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his flattery. “You’ve been waiting a while to pull that card, havent’cha?”

A simple shrug of amusement answered your question. “Im going to go say hello to Al-Haitham and Tighnari, wanna grab a plate and meet me outside?”

Your stomach dropped, but you never lost your smile. “Sure. I’ll see you out there.”

As Cyno retreated to say hello to his friends, you eyeballed the table. It was a beautiful array of food, but looking at it made you nauseous.

Your pupils flickered between sweet treats and savory snacks, the music drowning under the growing static in your ear. Your hands shook in protest as you went to grab a plate.

Having finished a, rather curt, exchange with Al Haitham, Cyno was deep in conversation with Tighnari. After a while, his eyes traveled back to the table, brows knit in confusion as he took in your demeanor. His face fell upon noticing…

You looked dazed. Your eyes absentmindedly pooled with tears as your quivering hand hovered back and forth between foods and back at your side. Eventually, you sighed in defeat and put the plate down with a loud groan, grabbing a bottle of water and retreating outside.

Words caught in his throat as he pointed to the door and attempted to stutter out an excuse to leave. Unbeknownst to him, Tighnari had seen the same thing and ushered the white-haired male after you.

When he went outside, Cyno couldn’t find you. You were nowhere to be seen in the backyard. It wasn’t until he heard gentle sniffling from above that it had dawned on him.

You were hiding out in a tiny treehouse that had been built by the Kshahrewar students as a final project. Those damn architects and their spare time…

He pushed aside his worries of cleanliness and began to scale the large tree. He carefully climbed up the ladder and silently entered the small, wooden house.

When your best friend’s eyes fell on you, his face dropped instantly. You had thrown on an oversized hoodie over your outfit, and were hugging your knees to your chest.

Cyno sat down next to you wordlessly, settling onto the dusty floor. He looked through the wooden window, eyes fixated on the twinkling stars.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, not daring to look at him. “I ruined your fun.”

The white-haired male scoffed with amusement. “The only “fun” to be had was listening to Tighnari talk about a beetle that he found today. I love the guy, but sometimes I can only smile and nod and pretend to know what’s coming out of his mouth.”

His comment got a chuckle out of you, then an uncomfortable silence followed. “You feelin’ okay?” He asked gently.

“Not really, I’m not big into parties and I’m feeling sick.” You rest your head between your knees.

“Oh dear…” he mumbled. “Do you have water with you? Anything to snack on to get your levels regulated?”

You held up the bottle you had brought with you, not daring to speak.

“Good on the water part, but you need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Your stomach suddenly cried out for food, betraying you as you managed to curl in on yourself more.

The white-haired male sighed as he turned his head to look at you. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on? Or do I have to force you?”

“Threatening me is not the way to get me to talk to you, Cyno.” You grumbled in reply, sneering a bit as you don’t move your head from its previous position.

“If that’s what it takes for you to tell me what’s wrong, I don’t care how it happens.” He said sternly. “Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s fine, I’m okay. Go have fun at the party.”

“(Y/N)-“

“I said I’m fine!”

Your head shoots up to reveal hot tears running down your cheeks, you lock eyes with Cyno and instantly feel guilty for yelling.

The white-haired male takes hold of both of your shoulders, gazing into your eyes. “You. Are. Not. Fine.” His fiery gaze is baring holes into you. “After what I saw a few minutes ago, I can’t believe you when you say that you’re fine. I just can’t-”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know the signs, (Y/N). Please, tell me I’m wrong in what I’m thinking is going on, please... I care about you way too much for you to hurt yourself like this.”

His thumb comes up to wipe your tears, but it’s all in vain as you hang your head low and start to sob. Cyno is taken aback at the sudden outburst, but doesn’t fail to turn to comfort. “Oh honey… c’mere, it’s alright… it’s alright...” He soothed as he shifted to a kneeling position, wrapping his arms around you.

Through your sobs, you explained how you had been feeling lately. You explained your relapse, your self-hatred, the things you believed were true (when in reality they were not). Your best friend listened intently to every word, giving you his undivided attention.

When you were finished, Cyno did not reply, he only hugged you for a moment longer. When you broke free to wipe your eyes, that is when he finally spoke…

“I want to preface by apologizing. I didn’t even notice, and you’re one of my dearest friends… I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.” You replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He rested his head atop of yours, bringing a hand up to gently trace shapes on the small of your back. “I can’t entirely understand what you’re going through, but I do know what you’re feeling all too well…” he murmured. “I’m so sorry that you felt that you had to resort to this. You’re an incredible person, and I’m so lucky to call you my best friend… I couldn’t care less what you look like, or what you eat. I just wish that you felt that way too.”

“I just wanna be me again,” you whimpered. “I hate all of this. I’m tired all of the time, in pain, dizzy, everything just hurts and I’m starving but I can’t bring myself to eat anything. It’s- It’s crippling.”

“I know…” he soothed. “I wish that people understood how awful it is to have a calculator running in your head constantly. They see someone who looks like me and they think “he’s sick”. They see someone who might be on the heavier side and think “they’re an inspiration.” It’s unfair, and it’s repulsive. Anyone of any size can go through this.” He rambled,

Your eyes widened when you realized what his words meant. “Someone like you…? Wait, you? You’re-“

“For years, yes. I finally managed to get it under control when I entered the Akademiya. However, sometimes I still have moments like you’re in right now.”

“How did you recover?” You asked with hope in your voice.

Cyno gently held out his hand for you to take, which, to his delight, you did. “I met Tighnari,” he answered truthfully. “He helped me learn to love who I am… every inch of me. And I want to see if he can help you too. Do you think you’d be okay with that?”

You closed your eyes with a smile as you nodded tearfully. “Yes, please do so.”

A solemn silence was left in the treehouse until Tighnari had climbed his way up. He promptly said what everyone had been thinking: “Aw man, now my pants are all dirty.”

As you and Cyno laughed at his similar fate, you thought, for the first time in a while, that things might just be okay.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

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