#milk parlour

[scotianostra]

November 26th 1908 saw the birth of Charles Carmine Forte in Casalattico, Italy

This has a wee connection with my home town, Loanhead, it was Baron Forte, as he was to become, worked in his relative,  Alfonso Forte, Italian cafe, from a young age after emigrating from Italy.

His father’s distant cousin Pacifico Forte had moved to Scotland and according to family legend, this cousin met a Scotsman who was believed to be a grocer. However, he did not own just one grocer’s shop but many.

The family always believed that this was Sir Thomas Lipton. He said to Pacifico ‘if you ever come to Scotland come to see me and I will help you.’ but truth be told we will never know if it was Lipton.

He opened up what was known as a hole in the wall shop in Kincardine in Fife. There he sold chocolate, lemonade and cigarettes.

He went on to open an ice cream shop in Dundee and with the business expanding, he persuaded some of the family to move to Scotland. In 1911 Rocco Forte arrived in the country.

During that year Mr Forte found a job in a small shop in Loanhead near Edinburgh. Three years later he wrote home and asked his wife and their family to join him, and they arrived at Waverley Station in 1913.

They then left Edinburgh bound for Alloa. Here Forte established the Savoy Cafe.

It sold lemonade and coffee and soon became popular with locals. It was situated on Mill Street and could seat between 50 and 60 people.

As time went on, they employed two or three assistants to serve ice cream, cakes and sandwiches.

Charles was beginning to speak English but with a Scottish accent. He attended Alloa Academy but was teased by the other boys, which is what happens in schools.  At the time, the nickname for an Italian was tally wally and they used to taunt him with this.

Soon though he was accepted because he was friendly and good at sport.

While there he wrote an essay for his teacher Miss Hunter. She showed it to the headmaster as she was so taken with his grasp of English.

ONE of the things Charles Forte remembered about The Great War was the arrival of the Black Watch in Alloa.

He also recalled seeing Lloyd George standing on a box in a doorway, speaking to the crowd of around 100 people.

When Forte was 12, he attended Saint Joseph's College in Dumfries. While there he got into fights nearly every day, and he loathed the place.

After a week he wrote to his father saying: ‘unless you come and fetch me, I am going to run away’. A few days later he arrived at the school and took him home.

He was then enrolled in one of Italy's most prestigious schools in Rome and during his time there, he only returned to Alloa for the summer holidays.

When he was 17, Forte decided to follow in his father's footsteps. Rocco arranged for him to work in a cafe in Weston-Super-Mare in Somerset.

It had been formed in partnership with two cousins and was one of the first of a string of cafes and ice cream parlours which members of the family opened all along the English coastline.

The caveat was that he was to remain in Scotland for six months to study book-keeping and accountancy.

When he was 26, he opened his first milk bar in Regent Street London. From there his business went from strength to strength, opening many more cafes.

During World War II, he was interred on the Isle of Man, but was released three months later. In 1943, he married Irene Chierico and the couple went on to have five girls and a boy.

By the late 1940s he was head of Forte Holdings Limited and in the 1950s had branched out into catering at Heathrow Airport.

He also opened the first motorway service station at Newport Pagnell in 1959. By 1970, following mergers, he was at the helm of Trusthouse Forte which owned the likes of Little Chef and Travelodge. It was now a multi-billion pound empire.

In 1970, Forte was knighted by the Queen Mother and in 1982 became Baron Forte of Ripley in Surrey. He was also appointed Knight of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta.

In 1992, he retired and handed over the reins of the business to his son Rocco. A hostile takeover bid by Granada was successful and the business fell out of family hands.

Charles Forte died in his sleep in his London home on February 28th, 2007. His wife died in 2010 and was buried beside her husband in West Hampstead Cemetery.

Charles’ son Rocco has built his own hotel “empire”  Rocco Forte Hotels might be modest compared to what his father owned, but the 14 hotels “ From London to Rome, Sicily to Florence, Berlin to Edinburgh each Rocco Forte Hotel is as Unique and Special as the Place it Calls Home.”  The Fortes own The beautiful Balmoral Hotel at number 1 Princes Street Edinburgh.

The first four pics are of Charles, the rest are some of the businesses across Scotland, in order they are Charles at Horsemarket in Kelso., Loanhead,  Friars Street in Stirling, Girvan, Biggar, and Galashiels

[hedgehog-moss]

Today felt like the last day of summer... I spent a long time following a little stream, looking for the spot where I'd found wild currants last year. They had clearly moved to a different spot, or maybe I'm just bad at finding things again because the only landmarks my brain finds worth remembering are stuff like "there were two baby cows to the left" or "there was a majestic hawk perched on a fencepost." I did know the currants grew near a waterfall that's near a little hamlet, and (unlike the baby cows) both were still here one year later.

Half an hour into our quest Pandolf had decided we must be looking for water, so he stopped like "Here!!" every time he found a noteworthy watery spot, it was very sweet.

Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to find my favourite berries this year, and I went back to the road—and found raspberries instead! The last ones of the summer...

I was like "I accept this consolation prize, world, thank you" and had started picking raspberries when I heard soft dainty footsteps on the road behind me. On reflex I said "Bonjour !" as I was turning around and then realised I'd just said bonjour to this lady:

She walked up to me like she was about to ask me for directions, but then went right past me and walked on with the same purposeful air.

She stopped to admire the view above the waterfall like an old lady on her routine evening walk, then she was on her way.

Pandolf and I went in the opposite direction, to go home, and we soon found another pony who was clearly the first one's pasture mate. This one was in her pasture and she looked sad and abandoned (and/or outraged). She kept pacing and then stopping behind the fence and whinnying.

After we crossed the hamlet we saw a guy on his tractor on the road—he was on his way to a pasture where you could see a little herd of cows who had formed an orderly queue in front of their milking parlour. It was evening milking time and the ladies knew it.

Cows queue like British citizens, I mean very politely and patiently, but still I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hesitated to stop the guy to tell him about the fugitive. I chose the compromise of trotting besides his tractor to give him the news, and the tractor was very loud so he couldn't hear me well and I had to sort of convey the concept of escaped ponyhood with hand gestures. The guy looked in the direction I was indicating and then nodded and moved his arms in a philosophical gesture of total acceptance, like, "Such is life." Or maybe it was "Not my pony, not my problem."

I on the other hand feel a deep sense of community with people who have escape artist animals, so I ended up turning back to see if I could at least orient the pony in the vague direction of her pasture. I found her at a crossroads, wondering where tonight's walk would take her.

When I tried to go around her and shoo her back in the right direction, she went off the road and down by the stream, which wasn't the plan, and Pandolf happily followed her then barked at me like "hey!! water!!" Our search for water had ended but I followed them to humour him—and! I found some wild currants! down by the little bridge that the pony was waiting for me to notice like some mystical guide.

There were no actual berries to be found, I'm a bit too late for that, but I got some cuttings to transplant near my house and since I thought I was going to go home empty-handed it made me feel successful anyway.

So maybe the pony saw me meandering near her pasture looking for currants and decided to escape so she could help me out. A criminal with a heart of gold. If I'd walked by the bridge I might have seen the currants without her help because, guess what, last year's hawk, Guardian of the Gooseberries, was still there on his fencepost nearby. What a good landmark! But I wouldn't have walked by the bridge without the pony's prompting as I had already given up on my search, so she did escape for a good cause.

I tried to use the currants as bait to attract the pony (let's call her Mrs Berry) towards her pasture, but after I pulled the leaves out of her reach for the third time I lost her trust and she stopped paying attention to me. So I had to go back to the good old method to make shetland ponies move, i.e. walk behind her and occasionally pretend-kick in the direction of her bum, the way you'd shepherd a reticent pigeon.

Her friend looked pretty indifferent upon seeing her again, so I think she wasn't whinnying out of worry but because she's a Pirlouit (a snitch).

I opened the pasture gate but Mrs Berry had absolutely no intention of going home so early. She went in the opposite direction, for a little stroll around her hamlet. (Look at Pandolf merrily leading the way! He loves escape artist animals, he thinks they're so much more fun than everybody else.)

Nobody was home in the house by the pasture and I decided to let Mrs Berry stroll, now that she was no longer on the road walking away towards the distant horizon. I figured she must be a Pampérigouste, a known local personage who goes out for an adventure every now and then. We let her have her harmless fun in the two and a half streets of her little village, and since we had lost some time following this pony round, the sun was now quite low and Pan was all prettily backlit as he frolicked on the way home <3

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his maid. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his maid. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

[blufox234isadumbname]

what if minecraft mod/plugin/command block youtubers were cafe baristas? (because java joke haha)

fundy was my very first test of the concept a long while ago and hes kinda already perfect to design around because white streaked brown hari already got latte vibes, i made him more furry than i normally do though without long snoot so he kinda has miles tails prower if he was lanky energy (and tbf i want him to be like steampunky engineer design so ths kinda fits). the most prominentschanges is jsut to keep more inline with his skin and add drippy milk (latte compared to cappucino has more milk with little foam) i think my gooper influence is showing here but i digress

doctor4t was my actual second time designing for this concept, cappucino fit him very nice witht eh dress shape. he kinda has that maid cafe inspo behind it which fits. i kinda want to add more patters with hsi dress to be more fancy late table cloth like but this pass is so good and solid in terms of color adn shape

knarfy is my new one and i chose affogato for him, part of me want to give it to mysti instead because cat pun but i chose against cause i think the round shape kinda fits with knarfy's teddy bear thing. hsi outfit is mostly based on old timery ice parlour outfits with teh striped vest and hat, i mostly focused on drizzles and marbleing for that. also spoons, too much spoon dear god

also if youre wondering: mysti is instant coffee or coffee powder kinda based on american diner waitresses with the roller skates, systemzee will be tiramisu animal farmer (pitchfork included), unsure abt eightsidedsquare, MAYBE something like a cold brew idk what kind

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 6

History

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: Relic

Word count: ~4.0k Warning: None [not enough editing/formatting]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. This is a fuck-it version as my brain doesn't seem to be working right now.

Since Nyx was born, House of Wind lay empty most days and nights. Azriel preferred his old room still, for the familiar privacy, for only the skies, the winds, and the moon to keep him company. But at times like these, when the laughter of his family filled the house and his brothers pretended to be better than an infant, he didn’t mind the city after all. 

Despite the constant ruckus, he welcomed this distraction, especially after what he had done two nights prior. Ayla, for some reason, had trusted him and he ruined the first chance he had with her. She had offered him her kindness and in return, he proved her he was deserving of everything vile and cruel in the world. Every blessed moment they shared, Azriel tainted it by forcing himself onto her.

He had hoped Ayla would ask him to stay, or at the very worst, threaten him again. Instead, she stared at him. She stared at him like her entire being wasn’t consumed with desire as his, like it was one of those meaningless kisses she granted other men she took to her bed. How the light in her eyes flickered out, he couldn’t erase it from his mind. Nor the taste of her lips, or how his own tingled hours after he returned home. 

Guilty as he was, Azriel was more ashamed for not regretting the kiss he stole from her. 

‘I know how to hold my son,’ hissed Rhys. He walked back and forth, cradling his child in his arms, round the sofa for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. 

Nyx loved to torment his father whose perpetual cockiness crumbled under the pressures of parenthood, and Azriel loved him for it. He leaned against the window frame and kept out of the way, for offering advice only made Rhys lose his mind. 

But Cass was oblivious to this sentiment. He reached to take Nyx into his embrace. When his calloused fingers scraped against the tender wings, Azriel winced. Add it to their natural sensitivity and they had a crying babe in their arms. Literally. The tiny wings posed a greater hindrance with their involuntary flexing than the three brothers imagined them to be. Though they understood the plight as Illyrians, they were equally pathetic when it came to a suitable remedy.

Cass backed a step, his hands in the air. It wasn’t his first ordeal facing the wrath of the new parents, yet his biggest challenge was the fervour of their outbursts. Some days, Feyre threw everyone out of the room, and on the others—well, once Nyx’s talon clawed into the wood of the cradle, and Rhys bawled while all his child did was stir in his sleep.

A tendril of shadow tickled the babe’s nose before rising to whirl above his head. Fragile silence settled in the room as Nyx watched, his blue eyes wide and filled with wonder.

‘You can’t keep doing that,’ said Cass through his teeth.

Azriel grinned. ‘It’s not my fault he likes me better.’

‘If I did parlour tricks, he’d like me too.’

His tricks include getting piss drunk and fucking Nesta, said Rhys in his mind and Azriel snickered.

Cass looked between them. ‘What did he say?’ He asked Azriel before grunting at Rhys, ‘Tell it to my face, you coward.’

‘You’re making him antsy,’ warned Azriel quietly.

It was too late. Nyx’s lips trembled on cue as though he knew to milk their predicament to his advantage. Rhys’s spawn indeed. With a nervous smile, Cass took a step towards him wagging his finger in the air. But the wails grew louder. 

Shadows rushed back seeking the quiet around Azriel.

When the doors flung open, Cass took three steps back. But Feyre’s eyes were only on her child—one touch from her and Nyx babbled like a portrait of innocence tugging at her shirt. Nesta walked in with a smirk on her lips, knowing well the cause of distress, and with Mor in her tow.

Slumping into the chair next to the fireplace, Rhys draped an arm over his eyes. ‘I’m learning to respect my mother more. No wonder she bit our heads off as much as she did.’

‘I swear,’ grumbled Cass as he sat across him, ‘if you’re making him do it—’

Rhys peeked over his arm, anger darkening his eyes. ‘Why would I make my son cry?’

As the two bickered, Nyx laughed at his accomplishment, convincing Azriel he might have inherited more than his father’s theatrics.

Feyre chuckled and rocked her babe in her arms. ‘You lasted an hour. You’re making progress.’

Rhys shot a glare at Cass. ‘I would’ve lasted longer if not for a moron.’

‘I’m sure she was talking to Nyx,’ said Azriel.

Sensing the attention slipping from his pudgy fingers, Nyx spewed more gibberish. Mor let out a gasp and leaned over him, matching him with her own nonsense. But, he reached for Nesta instead.

Mor placed her hands on her hips and turned to her cousin. Her blond hair whipped dangerously in the air. ‘How does he not find me adorable?’

Rhys grinned. ‘Clearly, my son has standards.’

Nyx snuggled against Nesta’s chest and grasped at the wisps of shadows that deigned safe to approach him again. Mor smirked, ‘Well, clearly. He prefers Az over you.’

A dark power enveloped the corners of the room swallowing the light and warmth from the hearth.

‘Not funny now, are we?’ 

When Mor made a grab for Nyx’s hand in the air, he squirmed away. Amusement replaced the jealousy in Rhys’s eyes. ‘If only you could hear what he thinks of you.’

‘He thinks of me already! He likes me.’

While the rest of his family flocked wherever the babe was, Azriel always found a corner for himself. And Feyre seemed to notice. ‘He really likes his Uncle Az.’

‘More like Uncle Ass,’ grumbled Cass, still sore from the rejection, earning a glare from both parents.

‘You still won’t hold him?’ Feyre asked with a softness that bordered on pity.

In the beginning, it was easy to make excuses blaming it on the care needed from a mother, or on his tender body. With months passed and everyone grown comfortable with handling a babe, it became clearer that Azriel stayed away the most. And somehow, Nyx was fascinated by him the more he distanced himself. It couldn’t be his shadows for Rhys was the night sky incarnate, or perhaps Nyx sensed a familiar darkness in them.

‘I did when Rhys—I did,’ he sighed offering a smile, however strained it was. 

Mischief lurked in Feyre’s eyes as she walked over, ‘You better begin your training now,’ and looped a hand through his arm, ‘You might not have time to prepare.’

Azriel choked. Him with a babe? He had hardly spent minutes with Ayla. Besides, he forbade himself from indulging in such fantasies. He did once and suffered the consequences for centuries. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With Ayla, it would be different. It had to be different.

The sisters’ laughter worsened the heat rising up his neck. His eyes shifted, darting to look anywhere but their faces, and he caught the glance shared between Mor and Rhys.

Cass swivelled in the chair, ‘What about us? Nes and I are still ahead of him.’

Nesta went rigid. Feyre looked to her mate for help who merely grinned instead. Fortunately for her, Nyx yawned and she rushed to him. ‘I should take him to bed.’ 

Mor stomped over to the couch, ‘You owe me a night, Feyre.’ She pulled Cass to his feet and held onto his hand. ‘You all do. I’m leaving at dawn again and who knows when I’ll be back.’

Right, Vallahan teased her for months with the prospects of a successful alliance, only to test her patience.

‘I’ll stay with him,’ Nesta said quietly, tearing her eyes away from her mate. Cass only shook his head with a dramatic sigh but he didn’t argue or pull away from Mor.

Feyre and Rhys were silent for a while staring at each other, Azriel assumed, arguing over who got the honour to care for their son. Finally, she said, ‘Elain said something about pruning before sunrise. She won’t mind watching him.’ 

It was then Azriel realised the third sister hadn’t joined them since dinner.

.

.

.

Mor slowed as she took in her surroundings, a frown tugging her lips. ‘I thought we were going to Rita’s.’

‘After last time,’ Rhys shared a secret smile with Cass, ‘they’ll appreciate not seeing us for a while.’

Azriel didn’t know what trouble his brothers had stirred this time, but he resisted his words as he followed them down the cobblestone path he knew all too well. Without sparing even a courteous look at him, his family entered Pharus and went to his usual table as though it hadn’t been their plan all along, as though his mate wasn’t sitting on the dais right in front of him.

Ayla was alone that night. She strummed a tune on her lute, and at the first sound from her lips, every conversation died in the room, every patron straining to listen to her instead. 

Pretty things that did pretty things.

Azriel was convinced he had learnt everything about her from his secret visits. But every time he met her, Ayla surprised him. What else could she do? Who was she beneath the stories he had gathered those months? He couldn’t tell if they were careless gossip from his server or curated tales from her loyal friend anymore. 

Her fingers fluttered along the strings, light and nimble, every note a perfection. With each delicate stroke, her body moved with the music like she couldn’t hold back, and as she did, her hair swayed too, teasing the corner of her smile. 

One day, Azriel imagined, he would take her in his arms and brush those treacherous strands away. His heart tightened at the vision—the intimacy of being so close to her, to touch her so gently, to reveal her beautiful face to him inch by inch.

If only he had used his mind for once instead of acting like a lustful prick.

Ayla had laughed for him. She had shown him a side of her that only a few were privileged to witness. She had extended a ray of hope with her truths, and he snuffed it out with one kiss.

When the fog of guilt and shame cleared later that night, Azriel realised he had failed once again. For each of his questions resolved, plenty more arose. How did she end up in Velaris? What of her family? With Hamra safe and away, was Ayla safe from the mystery woman too? If he had another chance, he might coax some answers from her without her games. But she wouldn’t let him close to her again, let alone trust him.

In a twisted way, he wasn’t surprised. When had he ever made right when it came to love?

Azriel almost laughed. He was mated to Ayla. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was. His half-brothers had ripped his heart away when he was a boy, long before he learnt what the word meant. All his life, he only ever ‘loved’ one woman and she rejected him. She chose his brother over him for she saw what lurked under the surface, recognised what he was—a shroud disguising the darkness within.

Now his mate, would she reject him too if she knew the true scars deep under his skin?

Ayla took a breath between verses, and he shuddered. Her voice reeled him out of his fears. The weight in his chest loosened its grip with her every word, yet Azriel held onto the ache. What was he without his burdens? What could he be without this longing?

Slowly, as her song came to an end, his swirling thoughts settled too. For long minutes, not one spoke. Silence embraced the void her voice left behind.

Feyre and Cass looked away first, then Mor. When a gasp escaped Nesta, everyone turned to her, except Rhys. Silver sparkled in her eyes beneath the unshed tears as she clutched her chest. Cass spoke her name but her eyes remained on Ayla who padded down the steps. It was only when he placed a hand on her thigh, that she met his gaze with a smile.

His shadows awoke from their trance too. They slithered up his neck and chanted Ayla’s name in his ears. But Azriel’s attention was elsewhere. As conversations came alive and servers went around the room, Rhys watched Ayla. When she stopped in front of her office and talked to a female among a band of four, his violet eyes shone bright.

‘Rhys.’ Azriel called, interrupting him had he chosen to invade his mate’s mind again. Still, his brother didn’t tear his eyes away from her.

A frown creased between his brows before Rhys blinked. He turned to Feyre first—it had been she who pulled him out of his reverie—and then, Azriel. Neither of them spoke, aloud or in their minds. But a tension lingered in their stares. Feyre ran her palm down his arm and it brought a smile to his lips. He looked away first.

With the risk of other courts seeking someone from Velaris, Rhys was bound to get involved sooner or later. With the fae gone, he would have nothing to focus on except Ayla. And so, Azriel kept Hamra’s whereabouts to himself. As far as his brother was concerned, she was hiding somewhere in the city.

The faerie bowed her head and apologised, holding Ayla’s hand in hers, her cheeks flushing red, while her companions set up on the podium. Ayla nodded with a gentle smile—ever so gracious. She blinked and her eyes pinned on Azriel as though she’d expected to find him there, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Once the faerie left, she went to the bar.

‘Come with me.’ Nesta dragged him along before he had the chance to protest, and he swore his shadows aided her. She perched on a stool at one end of the counter, close to the office, making it impossible for Ayla to leave the room without walking past.

It was Raya who approached them though. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Could she serve us?’ Nesta glanced at Ayla. ‘She made me a drink last time and it was delicious, but I can’t remember its name. We were hoping she’d make it for us again.’ With her smile so earnest even Azriel found himself convinced.

Raya cut him a glare but spoke to Nesta, ‘Tell me how it looked. I’ll make it for you.’

‘I’ll take care of them,’ said Ayla softly, not looking up from the drinks she stacked on a tray. While Raya began to protest, Uri urged her with his eyes, then picked up the tray and waded through the crowded tables.

Watching the defeated bartender shuffle to the other end, Nesta remarked. ‘I thought they liked you here.’

‘Not anymore.’ He ignored her expecting gaze and sat beside her. 

No one was privy to what had transpired between him and Ayla, and he preferred it that way. When his family meddled, she seemed to slip away from him.

Minutes passed. She catered to every patron at the counter, ignoring him and Nesta, including the ones who came after them. Azriel glimpsed over his shoulder and found the glasses empty at their table. Cass hollered to Uri, yet the server turned around and talked to a couple who sneaked wary peeks at the ridiculous male waving his arm in the air. 

Azriel smiled at his mate. Keeping liquor from his family was one, and very efficient, way to encourage them to leave the bar.

At last, with no one else left to tend to, Ayla turned their way though she refused to meet his gaze. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘You have a beautiful voice,’ said Nesta, her words whispered with a touch of awe.

‘Thank you,’ smiled Ayla. She stared for a moment and then blinked twice. ‘You sound good too.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Compliments weren't meant for her. Everything she did was expected and never deemed worthy of praise. As though remembering her manners, she dipped her chin in a graceful nod.

‘How often do you sing?’ She inhaled sharply, ‘I mean, if I wish to listen to you again, when is it likely for it to happen, again?’

‘You can request to my bartender or the servers. If I’m here, they shall let me know.’

So, Azriel hadn’t been special. Yet, seeing her offer kindness to his friend without hesitation was endearing. Nesta pursed her lips as Cass came to stand beside him. The scent of citrus smothered him before Mor wedged herself between the two and wrapped an arm around him. ‘What are we having?’

Shadows scattered back to his wings. Azriel shifted in his seat, the hold on his shoulder growing unbearably heavy with each passing second. He peeked at Ayla but her focus remained on the glasses she was readying for them.

‘Not the one from the other night,’ Mor leaned over the counter and spied the ingredients she mixed. ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for that.’

Ayla offered the first drink to Nesta. ‘I don’t remember apologising. But, alright.’

Azriel shook with silent laughter and his shadows skittered down his arms. Mother, how had he gone two whole days apart from her?

‘Don’t worry about her. It’s easy to get into her good graces.’ Cass snorted, earning a vicious glare from Mor, but she soon smiled brightly when Ayla served her. ‘Just don’t take her wine from her.’

‘And why would I want to be in your graces?’

A laugh escaped Azriel. When he looked up, none of his friends were laughing with him, they only watched.

‘So,’ drawled Mor, ‘what do you think of our Az?’ Her arm tightened over his shoulder as she pressed closer.

Azriel glared at his brother silently cursing him for unleashing their disaster of a friend. 

The next drink was for Cass. Ayla poured another four and began setting them on a tray, ‘I don’t know enough about your Az to make a judgement.’ 

His name rolled off her tongue in a smooth caress. Blood rushed to his face, and between his legs.

‘Would you like to know enough?’ 

Azriel whirled to his other side where Nesta sat wearing a smirk. Why did they leave Rhys and Feyre behind? Why didn't they bring the whole entourage and embarrass him in front of his mate? 

But then, Ayla said, ‘He can ask that himself.’

Ask, his shadows urged. Ask. The words merged and weaved until all he heard were incoherent whispers. Ask.

Azriel was never at a loss for words, he simply chose not to say them aloud. But with her, he often found himself speechless. Nesta nudged him with her knee, a reminder that he still hadn’t spoken. He cleared his throat, and his friends had the decency to scramble. Cass ruffled his hair, making him hiss under his breath, before he and Mor wandered back to their table.

Nesta made to leave as well, watching them for a breath before staring into her drink. Almost a year had passed since she accepted them as family, yet she felt no less an outsider.

Ayla noticed Nesta’s hesitation and watched the two once they joined Rhys and Feyre. Laughter erupted, drinks flowed, and their eyes often drifted to Azriel.

‘You should dance,’ said Ayla. Nesta’s eyes snapped to her as she watched the ones swaying in front of the dais with a smile. ‘The band loves when people do.’ Right then, Uri appeared behind them with his usual smile and she nodded at him, ‘If you’re shy.’ 

How she knew about his friend or the server materialised at that very moment was a mystery.

While Nesta sat contemplating the offer, Ayla set a drink for him. ‘You two have a history.’ 

She was looking past him, where his family was, and Azriel knew who she meant.

A glass shattered across the bar, and Raya darted to the kitchen mumbling about needing a broom, although the smirk on her face was unmistakable.

Nesta choked on her drink. She quickly got to her feet and patted him on the back, ‘Don’t ruin it,’ as walked away with Uri.

Alone at long last, free from prying patrons and his meddlesome family and her vigilant friends. Yet, Azriel felt no relief. His shadows retreated behind him, barely peeking over his shoulders. Now that he was in a bind, they were silent as the dead.

‘Do you regret it?’ she asked quietly.

All night, Ayla wouldn’t meet his gaze, and now it dawned on him—she believed he regretted the kiss he’d dreamed of for months, his one true glimpse of boundless happiness in ages. And with Mor acting like Mor. . .Azriel couldn’t breathe.

‘I don’t.’ Her words nearly drowned in the chaos around them as she fussed with empty glasses on the counter. ‘Although I’d prefer you didn’t run away next time.’

His shadows fluttered around him, emboldened by her admission. Azriel let out a shuddering breath, the need to explain the past tightened in his chest. ‘It’s not how you think,’ he began. What were he and Mor if they were barely friends in name? What remained to say when nothing had existed between them? Instead, he settled on, ‘It was a long time ago.’

Her face was bare and calm. ‘How many long times ago are there?’ 

When he thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. It wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have with his mate in a bar, with his family undoubtedly listening in on them.

‘Two.’ His shadows hissed in his ears and sank behind him again.

Ayla took a slow breath. ‘And not long times ago?’

She pressed her lips together and they quivered. 

Azriel was a fool—an absolute, blind fool.

‘Well?’ She finally looked at him. The light in her eyes returned, brighter than ever. ‘That many, huh? How about in the past century?’

Azriel held in his smile.

Her eyes widened as Ayla faked a gasp. ‘How about the last fourteen months?’

Fourteen months ago, Azriel walked into Pharus for the first time, he saw his mate for the first time, he saw her smile for the first time. While he tortured himself with the misery of being invisible to her, she had remembered him.

Even the ones he called his friends didn’t know this part of him. And Ayla was unravelling him in mere seconds. A voice in his mind warned him to stop, to think, to run away. But he saw the grin on her face at his unease, the unbridled amusement on her face. 

‘Eight,’ he said and waited for an insult but none came. ‘What about you?’ 

‘One.’

Azriel’s brows rose. He knew there were more—more than eight—male and female, none she invited again. His shadows had whispered so during his secret trysts, and that was before the bond snapped for him.

His mind refused to believe her, yet his craving heart did. For a sweet moment, he tasted relief, then she ruined it.

‘Doesn’t sound fair, does it? Perhaps, we should get even.’

Next Chapter: Sinner

[howyouloveyourdragon]

Pearls

pairing: sugar mommy rhaenyra x reader x alicent age warning: 18+ only! interactions alternate universe: modern au, sugar mommy au summary: Three women, two purses and one whirlwind affair behind your best friend's back. It was never supposed to go past your uni accommodation but suddenly a set of pearls look very appealing...will you bite the bait? warnings & kinks: edging, mommy kink, cunnilingus, light bondage, strap-on pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab parts: 1, 2, 3 /? dividers by: cafekitsune wordcount: 3,354

A/N: okay i know this is probably a lot later than you expected but it's here! i feel kinda nervous about posting again since it's been quite a long while since i posted a finished one-shot so interaction is very welcome and i hope you enjoy 😭 ♡ okay also the feather won't entirely make sense unless you have seen what it is based on which is this

do not interact if you are under 18

It’s not anxiety that twists in her gut as Rhaenyra Targaryen sits in the parlour. She sighs and swishes the deep red wine in her mouth. It runs over her tongue like the embodiment of wet desire. She relishes the slight bitterness but anticipation is stirring in her gut. She pouts childishly at the crystal glass cup while she listens (barely) to Alicent rearranging her cupboards in the kitchen. “–it blatantly does not make sense for your mugs to be in the same place as Joffrey’s cereal. We do not want to give him another excuse to try his coffee versus milk experiment. I don’t even want to comprehend where Daemon has put hi–” “She’s not here yet.” Rhaenyra interrupts with a whine and tosses her head back. Alicent rolls her eyes and checks her watch. 18:45 pm. She scoffs at her jittery lover. “It isn’t even seven yet. What university students do you know that are on-time? Certainly not Jacaerys and definitely not Aegon! I’m lucky that Daeron is taking an apprenticeship.” “But she is always early, it’s one of the things I like about her.” Alicent raises her brows. “That she is early?” “Yes!” Alicent’s hands rest on her hips and she sighs. “Because she is early, you want to drag those little screams out of her?” Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, which is the moment her girlfriend begins to pounce. Alicent leans closer to the aristocrat, the run of her cleavage following her. “Because she is early, your fingers slither up her thighs?” “Yes!” Rhaenyra’s eyes make contact with Alicent’s bosom as she exclaims her answer. Silence pitters before a snort escapes the woman with chestnut hair and Rhaenyra begins to smirk in amusement. Alicent slowly cups her lover’s face, tilting it upward. A teasing grin tilts Rhaenyra’s lips. “I love you.” She says slowly. “I love you too.” The Targaryen returns the sentiment with a lilt before Alicent dips down to kiss her pink lips. Alicent’s long nails glide up Rhaenyra’s jaw. “Good.” She breathes into her mouth, tongue preparing to slip past the seam of her lips but then just as she is teetering the edge, a familiar bell sounds. Instead of lessening the tension, it encourages it. The grin transfers. “I believe we have a guest.” She then sighs, rubbing a slow circle on Rhaenyra’s jaw as her silver haired companion slides a palm up her waist. “I believe we do.” She agrees. 

You stand outside the large building, eyes scanning up, scaling the walls and anticipating the tension. You were reluctant to wear the clothes delivered to your apartment just four days prior; the pink dress pressing against your body like a second skin, a white fur jacket and kitten heels because in truth you hadn’t expected your relationship with the CEO of Iron Throne Industries, your best friend’s mother, to progress so far. For her to begin utterly spoiling you. This made the ‘your mama’ jokes from first year so much worse. You shake your head at the thought and swallow, digging your opal teeth into your lower lip. Then the door swings open and your head snaps to it. Your eyes are wide as you take in the sight. Rhaenyra is smiling that sly grin, her palm perched on the long doorway, the other cupping a wine glass while her body is wrapped in scarlet and coal. The dark and rouge velvet of her blazer washes over her shoulders like gushing water and you bite down harder. Sharp pain shoots through the flesh beneath your teeth but you don’t care because your stomach is twisting in ribbons of lust. The outline of her crimson lipstick sticks to her glass. “Good evening.” She greets, eyes carnivorous and tempting through thin slits. Your sights track along her ruby nails then blink the distraction away to stutter back. “Good evening, mommy.” You near-gulp as tingles shoot across your flesh. She tilts her head, all too aware of the effect she wields over you as skilled as a swordsman. “Why don’t you come inside?” She suggests, letting her tongue run over her lips as she tempts you with glistening eyes. Hesitation grapples your weak ankles for a moment but you both know you are far too deep to stop now and why would you want to? The fun is only beginning… 

Alicent is slung across a plush black armchair, her legs winding at the arm of it. Your eyes instantly widen and you step back in surprise, your back hitting your girlfriend’s chest. She slowly creeps her hands onto your hips. “Miss Hightower!” You exclaim but she only chuckles at you while Rhaenyra hangs your coat. She has a long, shining pearl necklace that dips between her breasts. “Hello, dear.” Alicent’s sultry voice slithers off her tongue. “I was hoping you would be joining us tonight, one of us was starting to get a little impatient.” Her eyes cut to Rhaenyra as her lips twitch up into a winding smirk. Your face washes in rouge. “Well who could blame me?” She retorts, gravel in her throat as the intensity grows. The chestnut vixen raises her brows, amusement smooth across her expression. A pink hue washes over your face, it feels as though you are a sliver of fabric between them. Alicent stands, gracefully as ever, and approaches with a long smirk. Her cinnamon eyes flicker over your face, her hand also rising to cup your cheek. She turns it in her grasp. “My love was right, you are definitely the prettiest of Jacaerys’ friends.” You swallow at the mention of him, tensing. “Don’t worry.” She coos, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You would much rather one of us take care of you, wouldn’t you?” Her sweet, lilting voice almost distracts you from Rhaenyra’s hand which is sliding up your thigh. Her nails catch on the soft pink fabric of your short dress. “Is this the one that I bought for you?” She asks, grinning as her breath teases deliciously at your ear. Her words are mere whispers but they send a tremble over your flesh. “I told you that she was a good girl, didn’t I?” Alicent hums in agreement, on her palms laying to rest atop your hip. She squeezes it gently. “You like that do you?” Alicent tests with a purr, her wicked grin extending across her face. “Being our good girl? Our sweet, gorgeous girl? Gonna be so good for us?” You can’t speak, the breath catching in your throat so you just nod, eyes falling shut as easily as an autumn leaf. “Oh you like that do you?” Rhaenyra chuckles, stopping her hand cruelly just short of your core. 

A gentle whine passes your lips petulantly as Rhaenyra’s fingers rub slow teasing circles and Alicent begins playing with the skin-tight fabric at your side. “Do you like Paris?” ALicent asks, delighting in the mewl you emit. “Be a good girl for us and we’ll take you there. We have a work trip coming up, don’t we, dearest?” Rhaenyra nods, nibbling at your neck and finally driving her fingers up to swirl over the thin pad of underwear beneath your cunt. A mewl of approval drips from your tongue. “You can be a good girl, can’t you?” Another nod tips your head but this time, Alicent’ hand reaches up into your hair and tugs it back. A gasp hitches from you and a pleasant tingle runs up your neck as Rhaenyra presses wet lips to the soft flesh. She sucks a deep maroon mark while your hands fumble at thin air for support. Alicent moves her hand away from your side to grasp one of yours, she squeezes it with a chuckle rumbling through her throat. “We could visit the Louvre,” Alicent coos, brushing back your hair and playing with the strands. “Have breakfast outside the Eiffel Tower, perhaps attend our events in the evening–” “Though you might struggle to escape me.” Rhaenyra purrs. “There is nothing I’d like better than to bend you over some pretty little railing looking out at the stars.” Alicent chuckles at the shiver that runs down your spine. “I knew you would like that idea.” Alicent pulls away only briefly but it flutters your eyes open all the same. 

When you see her approach again, a familiar glass stamped with crimson lipstick is greeting you with the temptation of a sly snake. “Drink.” She demands, Rhaenyra taking it between her fingers to dip it between your plush lips. Alicent slowly slithers her hand up your thigh. “And to think this almost went to waste.” Rhaenyra tuts, watching as your throat bobs. There is something else that she would much rather you drink. She strokes your cheek and it isn’t long until your back is being pressed into the winding sofa, The soft velvet runs goosebumps along your warm skin, Rhaenyra’s hands squeeze your thighs, parting them with ease while Alicent kisses up your neck, your jaw, your cheek–anything she can reach. Her hot breath flows over you, tingles shoot up your spine. Lips kiss up your thigh and suddenly a chuckle bursts from your lover’s lips. “I knew you would be wet for me.” She purrs, tongue dipping out to glide over the slick greeting her. When she sees it invading your thin black thong, her index flicks under the fabric. She pulls it down, licking her lips at the sight of your mound. Alicent moves down to straddle your stomach, hands framing your face as Rhaenyra plays with you. A gasp parts your lips, her fingers are slightly cold from the glass and it tickles up your skin. Alicent chuckles and leans down to press your lips together. Just as your fingers are itching to line up her waits, a mewl slips from you. Rhaenyra tongue treads up your core. 

Alicent tuts slowly. “I thought you were our good girl but you’re being so loud.” A smirk creeps over her face. “Here, sweet girl, we wouldn’t want to get you in trouble…” She removes her hand to unwind the pearl necklace from her neck, dipping her finger between her breasts to fish it out. It swings in the air with the gentleness of a breeze but she doesn't give it much time before letting it fall in a line into your mouth. Your breath hitches as your teeth latch onto them. “We simply must get you more of these.” Alicent chuckles before diving back to lay her lips against your neck, the pink marks blossoming. Rhaenyra’s patience wears thin and so her hands are quick to snatch either side of your dress and roll it up–just past your hips. Her fingers snap the opposing fabric of your thong and discard it with the ease of tossing old garbage. She supposes you will not be needing such things anymore anyway. Her lips lock around your clit, suck at the pearl but her tongue manages to slip inside your throbbing cunt. It teases with gentle ease, much like testing the limits of a new toy. 

Your fists clench at the fabric of Alicent’s silk dress, your brows furrow as your lover plays with you and you feel. Your back arches, A needy whine rips through your lips, Alicent chuckling at your neediness. The pearls jangle as your teeth bite down harder on the connecting chain. Slowly Alicent begins to rock her hips back and forth, a pearl of her own rubbing against your stomach with unkempt eagerness. “Keep making those sounds and a punishment will be in order.” She warns, smirking, but the words barely shoot through your ears. Your nipples pebble in sensitivity, almost resembling the sharp jewels that your girlfriend adorns so commonly along her fingers. Rhaenyra’s tongue and Alicent’s hips move in tandem. Pink lips continue to kiss up your neck, a trail of wetness in the marks she leaves behind. Her palms glide up your middle until they can trace up your arms. Tingles shoot along your skin as her nails trip on your goosebumps. Eventually her hands come up to clasp your hands above your head, she locks them and kisses along your jaw. Rhaenyra’s tongue tickles up your slit slowly, becoming gentle when she hears Alicent’s mewls begin to stutter. A whine threads through your mouth. “Don’t be greedy, pet.” She chastises with a chuckle. Alicent’s lips stop on your jaw to let out a high preening moan against your lips. Her intense russet eyes meet your own half-lidded sights which only pulls her higher up to her peak. Her teeth clamp down on her lower lip but she releases a yelp as a short resounding smack echoes around you. Rhaenyra tuts as she moves away from your heat and soothes Alicent’s backside with slow strokes of her palm. “That’s better.” She sings and kisses up the length of your new lover’s back until finally turning her neck in her hand to kiss against her lips with rough care. Slowly Alicent peels off your body and is followed by Rhaenya, their lips beginning to clash for dominance. 

Rhaenyra’s palms lock hard on Alicent’s hips and Alicent’s tangle like beasts into the river of Rhaenyra’s silver streaming hair. Your dazed gaze lands on them as their tongues dance in eagerness to argue despite no words. Instead, their lips smack and their teeth clash like swords…but when a soft whine leaves your lips, their shields come down. Their battle ceases long enough for their eyes to turn on you. Rhaenyra’s sharp eyes snap to you with an uncontrolled grace while Alicent’s glance over your face like a kitten exploring the jungle of her ancestors. “Don’t worry, pet.” She utters, a deep rumbling of gravel in her throat. “We haven’t forgotten about you just yet.” Rhaenyra’s body twists, her shoulders dropping and head tilting down so that her sights are almost predatory as they flit over your rumpled form. Your dress is hitched up and exposing the sensitivity between your legs, your lipstick is smeared and what once was matte is now wet and waiting. “And I hope you haven’t forgotten about this either.” You gasp as a long feather teases at your opening. Alicent chuckles and retorts. “How much was this again, sweetheart?” You tuck the lower of your lip between your teeth, the pearls begin to dribble down your form. She licks a stripe along her own as they do. “£110.” Rhaenyra answers smoothly, running the tickle up and down your tender flesh. A laugh escapes. “For that?” Alicent asks, almost aghast. “She claimed it ‘brightens the room’, almost refused to leave without it, my bratty girl.” Rhaenyra tuts and runs it down your body. “It might as well do something.” 

Like a tiger she creeps forward, Alicent wandering to the side, her hands plant on either side of the sofa and peel your legs back apart. A whimper leaves you but she doesn’t react, instead she slowly pries the pearls from your plump lips and skips them down from your cleavage to your core until they hit at your clit. A gasp hitches your breath and your thighs flinch. She leans forward to look at the dripping mess you have become and runs the necklace along it. “Do you know how long I was waiting for you and this pretty pussy?” She purrs as she toys with you, teasing up your slick slit. She lifts her other hand to slap it. You yelp with a start but she is quick to soothe the hit with her tongue. Her eye contact never strays–she knows your body better than you do. Then out of the corner of your eye you can see a familiar Rhaenyra turns her head with a devilish smirk and when your eyes follow her direction you almost gasp. In her hands is a long and thick crimson strap-on within her hands. She grins with temptation. Rhaenyra’s hand glides to take it from her and lower to strap it around herself. Alicent’s movements are slow and smooth as she wraps around you from behind. Her hands dip to reclaim the pearls but this time instead of pushing them into your mouth, she takes your wrists and latches them together. You swallow. “You gonna be good for mommy?” Rhaenyra asks with high brows but you can see the tinge of apprehension. You had done everything with her but not this and it was safe to say that rarely does Rhaenyra start small. And yet, much like how this affair started, you surprise yourself. It isn’t hesitation that tenses your body, it’s excitement. You nod, you nod with eager eyes and even more eager lust. Her eyes darken again and a smirk lifts her lips. “I knew you were my good girl.” She praises while Alicent’s lips descend onto your neck. 

Slowly, she plunges inside, the head of her cock running through your folds and tickling at your insides. Overwhelming fullness clenches your cunt and drinks the plastic in. A high moan is quickly swallowed as Alicent cranes your neck to slam her warm lips on yours. Her kiss is the opposite of delicate as her tongue pokes your mouth but there is a gentleness in her hand as it cups your face. Your legs ache as Rhaenyra pushes them further apart to give her access. She thrusts with animalistic fervour, as if in heat and desperate to probe even deeper. Alicent’s thumb lowers to rub at your pleading bud and delights in the breath that drives your lips into that beautiful shape. “Good girl,” Alicent coos as Rhaenyra pushes you closer and closer…Your head tosses behind you as intensity begs at you. Your bound hands lead your squirming to increase but when Alicent releases your face, she clutches at the side of your dress. It curls in her grasp as she squeezes the fabric. Rhaenyra’s hips rock back and forth, letting euphoria churn desperately. It is as though she is tying a knot in your lower stomach, tugging at every thrust but willing it to snap. To splinter, to break, to release. She wants to be the one who pushes you into your peak. The wet slapping of your cunt swallowing her in, doesn’t cease even as your slick splatters across your thighs. You can feel your binds even tighter on your skin. You can feel your resolve to keep quiet beginning to fracture. 

Finally the hold is too tight to deny and Rhaenyra grins down at you, her fingers hiking your knee up to fall over her shoulder. She presses forward to kiss along your collarbone. It is an understatement to say that you are stained in their lipstick kisses and claimant marks. “Release for me.” She breathes into your ear and finally it snaps. The tie breaks in time with the pearls which scatter across the floor with the sounds of loose change. Your arms fly apart as a tornado of euphoria sweeps you inside. “That’s it.” Alicent purrs as you tremble against her body. “That’s it.” Pleasure wraps around you as tight as a vine but it isn’t constricting; instead it carries the same comfort of her arms which sweep around you as Rhaenyra gently glides out of your glistening core. Your head turns as pleasurable shivers overwhelm your body. Your sights travel over the scattered pearls while Rhaenyra winds you between herself and Alicent, sandwiching you. Alicent squirms so that she can wrap her arms around your waist as if you are a teddy bear. “Oh sweet one, I hope you don’t think this was only a one time thing...” She coos. Her breath flutters over your collarbone which only reminds you of your endeavours. Her fingers carefully slink into yours and she squeezes your hand lightly. She finds a pearl strewn in the space between your fingers. She tuts. “We’ll have to get you some of your own, pet.” Your eyes don’t have the willpower to stay open as you nestle back into Alicent’s warm arms. With the scent of Chanel and Byredo thick in your nose, you finally rest. 

any and all interaction such as reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡♡♡

[shaw-ni]

Steadyhands AU, post Edizzy divorce where after some therapy, an intervention from their friends and a break from each other which lasted a few weeks, Ed and Izzy’s relationships is firmly in the “ it’s complicated” option on Facebook (Izzy is a Facebook mum and does post pointed passive aggressive rants on his page daily). Ed starts bringing Izzy coffee during their lunch break, a large haf-caf cappuccino with coconut milk and one sugar (haf-caf because he needs some caffeine to keep himself awake but not enough to keep him trapped to the toilet seat). Ed has a new concoction every day, always with 7 pumps of what ever syrup they have on option, and coconut milk as well (which he gets to let Izzy have a taste, and even though it tastes like a headache and the cream is never dairy free, Izzy always tries at least one sip, he’s trying too, okay?). Thing is, the coffee might just be the best coffee he’s ever tasted, the first time Izzy tasted it (trying not to look into Ed’s big brown hopeful eyes) he almost moaned in bliss, but settled for a slight nod and a muttered “it’s good”, which might as well have been a Hollywood handshake coming from Izzy.

The coffee cups are damn adorable too, with little illustrated pirate ships and the ocean filled with sea creatures on the sides (and some weird swirly writing as well, probably the barista writing the order? Not sure what the hearts are about, who cares, cursive is beyond him). The coffee shop is called ‘the revenge’ which seems an odd name, but their Tattoo parlour is called ‘Queen Annie’, so who is he to judge (said Izzy never). There’s only one problem, however, every time Ed comes back from the coffee shop, he practically skips into the studio, smile dimpling his cheeks like he just ate something sugary sweet. And Izzy knows that smile, even though it’s been years since it’s been aimed at him, it’s almost enough to put him off his coffee (almost, it’s fucking good coffee, right!).

Anywho, this goes on for a couple of weeks, with Izzy gritting his teeth every time Ed prances through the Parlour doors, until one day Ed’s not here to give him his daily coffee fix ( he told Ed going clubbing with Jack was a bad idea, but what’s does he know? He’s only been on the wrong end of Jacks generous pours since before he was legally allowed to drink, but whatever). Beforehand, Izzy would of just used their shop owned coffee machine in the kitchen, but perhaps he’s been a tiny but spoiled these past few weeks because their Nespresso coffee capsule doesn’t sounds appealing at all (that, and he’s not sure when it was last cleaned). He eventually decides, fuck it, and grabs his coat to head out side. It doesn’t take him long to find ‘the Revenge’, the place has a distinctly 16th century feel to it, in that it looks like it’s came right of the set of a period drama. The outside of the shop resembling the front of a ship, equipped with a unicorn figurehead, intricate wood carvings and what appears to be several hand made flags (including the trans flag, which, fuck yeah).

Inside, the place is bustling with customers and live music, the pirate theme seems to continue with the interior and there is a relaxing low light illuminating the shop. The live music, a tall but awkward man playing sea shanties on stage, seems to be the reason for the large number of people in the shop, and fortunately the line behind the counter seems to be relatively short. He makes a beeline for the line and repeats his coffee order in his head (it pays to be prepared). After five minutes, the line has annoyingly, not budged an inch; at this rate he’ll end up late for his next appointment. Izzy stretches his head to peer over the few heads in front of him and notices a tall, blonde twat babbling away to the frazzled barista. Fucking twat.

“Oye, quit holding up the line, some of us have places to be,” Izzy yells over to said twat. Startled, the man turns towards Izzy, and oh shit, assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be pretty, Jesus Christ. Shit. The asshole looks directly at Izzy, his eyes seem to drift and then linger on his chest, before moving slowly back to his face. Shit. He must be feeling the effects of a caffeine withdrawal, the only explanation to why he suddenly feels so flushed.

“One moment, sir. We’re quite in the middle of something.” With that the twat turns back to the barista, picking up their conversation.

Never mind, the only thing he’s feeling now is pissed.

“Mate, I doubt this guy wants to listen to your sad attempt at flirting, just order your damn coffee and go.”

The blonde asshole splutters angrily? Embarrassedly? And turns his full body towards Izzy (Jesus, those shoulders don’t deserve this guy, not fucking fair).

“My attempts at flirting are not sad! You angry little man! And I’m not flirting, that would be unprofessional, considering I am attempting to converse with my own staff!” The man speaks in a way that emphasises the unspoken exclamation points in his speech without actually increasing the volume of his voice, his accent is familiar in the way a 5 year old might play Mary had a little lamb on the piano. And wait… did he just say his staff?

He scoffs. “ Your staff?.”

The asshole raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Mine.”

Izzy raises his own bushy eyebrow. “Well if I was you, I’d—”

“Oh, hey Izzy, didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Izzy turns too see his ex husband turned current best friend and forever love of his life weaving quickly through the crowd, suspiciously springy for someone who was supposed to be ‘too sick to work’ hungover.

Ed finally makes it through the cluster of people, and swings an arm around Izzy’s shoulder. He grins at Izzy and then weirdly enough at the blonde asshole Izzy was in the middle of arguing with. “I see you’ve met Stede!” He cups his hand to his mouth and mock whispers to the blonde twat, of course he’d have a pretentious name like Stede. “Man, Izzy here loves your cappuccinos, won’t drink it from anywhere else, he even said they were ‘not shit’ which coming from Izzy, is a five star review!”

Wait, what?

“He makes the cof—”

“He drinks the cappuccino?!?”

Izzy looks to the blonde prick, who seems to be turning an amusing shade of pink and oh… suddenly the hearts on the coffee cups make a lot more sense. Shit. Well isn’t this fucking fantastic.

[mediumgayitalian]

You asked for interaction so here I am interactioning

What do you think Nico and Will's favorite ice cream flavors would be?

oooooou okay thank you for asking.

will, i think, just likes ice cream and is down for pretty much anything (you live in texas and you take whatever heat relief you can get) but he’s fond of vanilla i think.

whenever he’s teased about it he goes on a twenty minute long rant about just how not basic vanilla is (you have to HAND PICK the pods INDIVIDUALLY from CULTURED ORCHIDS in ONE PLACE IN THE WORLD and LEAVE THEM IN BRANDY for like a whole ass YEAR to make vanilla extract and you wanna call that shit BASIC???????) until people are sorry they asked.

he’s also partial to sorbet. especially watermelon.

nico, on the other hand, is a Snob. he scoffs when people call american ice milk “ice cream”. he will literally only eat gelato or granita.

his fave gelato flavour is hazelnut, literally entirely because it makes him think of hazel. it is p good tho. when the seven were in rome he quietly bought her a cup of it (from an old italian lady who gave him a massive discount bc he smiled at her and talked in italian lol) and told her it was his favourite. she thinks about it whenever she gets insecure about being bianca’s replacement.

his fave granita flavour is lemon tho bc everyone’s fave granita flavour is lemon.

when he and will go on a date for the first time will takes him to a regular ice cream parlour bc he thinks he’s funny. nico, bc he is whipped, eats some even tho he complains the whole time.

[hedgehog-moss]

I found a nice plant in a bog last year, like a reed with a tuft of very soft cotton at the top (bless you English, I just looked up "plant that grows in a bog and looks like cotton" and the English language replied "bog cotton, duh") (in French it's called linaigrette, which should be a small bird), and I was very charmed by the look of it and decided to try to pirate it so I would have some on my land. I plucked one fluffy reed and kept it on my windowsill so I wouldn't forget to return.

Of course, when I returned a few days later with a shovel and a bucket, I couldn't find the bog cotton again. Or the bog. It was a small swamp-y area in a very vast plateau with few landmarks, so it's possible I got turned around, but also, things tend to disappear around here sometimes, like the footpath that leads to the stream, only to reappear a few weeks later. I very much felt like I was in the correct location and the bog wasn't, but okay. Since I didn't trust myself to tell the normal reeds from the cotton-y ones in other seasons, I decided I'd come back around the same time next year.

I've had the linaigrette in my egg spiral in the kitchen this whole time as a memento, and I finally resumed my quest today. I left my car in the exact same spot where I'd left it the previous two times, just before the road gets squiggly for no apparent reason:

I climbed the hill and behind it were just miles and miles of estives (summer cow pastures) with sometimes a barn here and there with a mobile milking parlour. My plan was to follow every rivulet I came across, since I was looking for a watery area.

I picked a barn as a landmark to find my car again, and off we went.

Finding reeds wasn't difficult, but none of them had cotton tufts...

Pandolf was extremely aware that we were looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Here he is digging in the mud with his paw, looking invested in this treasure hunt.

Sometimes he would stop with one paw poised in the air and his whole body pointed forwards like an English setter who just smelled a pheasant in a Heywood Hardy painting and it was always for cow herds. If I squinted and squinted I could be sure to find a cow on the horizon, the size of an ant—I think Pan was a bit disappointed when he realised I never followed up on the cows he smelled, and it probably wasn't cows we were looking for.

(zoom x400 in case you can't see this cow standing apart from her herd like a sentinel)

I tried to amuse him by giving him little challenges here and there, like climbing on big rocks because he likes rocks. He likes being congratulated even more, though, and if I didn't insist that he actually climb on the rock he would just sort of run towards it and push himself off of it like a swimmer doing a flip turn at the wall to run back to me even faster (for pats). (Had to turn off the sound in the video because the wind was loud, so I subtitled our dialogue)

Some challenges he politely declined to do. I like how despite being very eager to please he sometimes gives me very clear "no thank you"s when I tell him to do something that sounds absurd to him. We found a little waterfall that went down a slope like a mud toboggan and I said "down!" to tell him to slide down that thing and he was like

Our strategy of following water paid off, because look what we found eventually!!

I had a very hard time digging up one clump of reeds with some roots; the bog was holding on to its cotton for dear life. Every time I opened a hole in the mud with my shovel with a horrible sucking noise, the bog would immediately close on itself again with an even stronger vacuum. It also tried to eat my boots, repeatedly. When I moved around the reeds I was trying to steal I had to take my foot out of my boot, stand on one leg like a heron and put the tip of my shovel under the sole of the boot to pry it up. But after maybe 20min of effort, the bog finally let go of one muddy clump of reeds in a loud, dejected SLURP and I was able to put it in my bucket. It was about 10x heavier than I expected so the walk back to my car was slow!

(One thing to keep in mind if you're going to wrestle a swamp for half an hour, is that you're going to end up looking and smelling like a swamp creature. I had to stop at the post office to send a parcel and I really regretted not doing it earlier. It's funny because the post office lady is always like "no, don't worry, come in!! <3" when you show up on rainy days apologising for your muddy shoes, but when I arrived today and asked her from the entrance if I should just throw my parcel at her rather than go in, with my socks making a pitiful plop-plop sound in my boots as I walked, and mud freckles all over my face from aggressive shovelling, and overall looking like a gravedigger, she took one look at me and went "... yes, throw it.")

The good news is, I didn't get lost returning from the swamp to my car, and had no trouble finding my barn-landmark again, and there were new animals there, a nice mule with a retinue of small ponies.

She was friendly at first but then soured on me when I refused to let her sniff and maybe taste the reeds I'd had so much trouble digging up, and then she wouldn't let me approach her ponies.

One of the ponies approached Pandolf, and I told him to stand still—we've been working on "reste là !" (stay there) for a while and it's hard because he's so friendly and exuberant, so I was very proud of him when he stood there frozen as a marble statue, waiting for the pony to come closer. The pony ended up stopping at a prudent distance and stretching his neck out to try and sniff Pandolf, it was very cute.

That's the end of the quest for bog cotton! Here it is now, transplanted to the swamp-y part of my pasture, I hope it'll like it here.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEM VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his cleaner. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his cleaner. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

[gard3nias]

16| «It's Daphne»

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wc: 11.30k

date: 19/10/2024

mdi // masterlist // playlist

—Now playing: Maniac - from “Flashdance” by Michael Sembello ✫

As the bikes were placed aside, their bodies lit up with warm colours reflecting the lights peaking through the house's windows.

Once Asher had chained his bicycle properly, Cleo linked her arm with Daphne’s and they all proceeded to the open front door a few feet away. Nick and James were commenting on the looks of the building—wasn’t their first time there but one could never help it. Asher agreed with their opinions just as Cleo simply listened. Daphne wasn’t doing either of them. Whenever she indulged in an activity like this, she never could muster enough energy or have enough time or concentration to formulate a coherent sentence. Her eyes were as greedy as her brain and they wanted to see more just as her brain wanted to know more, store as many pictures as possible.

The bright complexion of the house reflected against her brown leather jacket. The glitters on Cleo’s eyelids copied the brilliance of the glimmer in Daphne’s milk-chocolate eyes.

The further they went, the heavier the music resounded and the faster their eardrums vibrated. No one was at the entrance like there was at the gate. 

The wooden door leading inside was broadly open, giving way into the hallway. On each side were slim and tall windows and flower pots. A few steps led up to the entry and soon Daphne was within the walls of the enormous building. 

If anyone were to negatively judge her for moving from the city to the countryside considering it a downgrade, she would’ve full-heartedly laughed in their face. Downgrade? She’d never seen something like this there or, at least, if she did, it was most likely a museum or a tourist attraction. Funny.

They came a quarter to seven, just a little before everyone would head outside to the backyard for dinner. They didn’t think they were late but were proven wrong when they walked in and noticed how many people were present.

“Holy shit, man. Jungkook never fails to deliver.” Nick chuckled after moments of silence—Daphne surely wasn’t the only one stunned. Before the boy could turn around to comment further with his friends, a voice, or better, two voices, interrupted him.

“Welcome!” they sang in unison. The five friends looked to their right and found Jimin and Jungkook approaching them. With a smile from all, they replied and shook hands, compliments flying left and right. When Jungkook moved to shake hands with Daphne, it seemed like he wanted it to linger as if he was shaking hands with a sneaky rival he had to examine and be wary of. His warm hands held hers just as his eyes stayed on hers. She didn’t suspect a thing though. She smiled, shaking her head a little to get some hair out of her face. 

Before their handshake came to an end, Jungkook thought to himself that her looks that night would certainly snap some necks out of place and he made a mental note to be ready to help Taehyung get his neck back in place when that would happen.

His little exchange with Daphne was the polar opposite of the one with Cleo who he almost lifted off the ground as they hugged, gaining a little side glance from Jimin, another subject in his life that believed he saw Cleo as more than a friend.

After telling them where they could keep their belongings, notifying them of when dinner would be and welcoming them one last time, the two friends took their leave.

“I’m really liking this,” James chuckled as they proceeded to the living room. They didn’t know he wasn’t referring to the general vibe of the party but to the three girls that walked past them. 

Just like it was at Margot’s sixteenth birthday, the heart of the party was in the parlour. The attendees weren’t overdressed or underdressed and the five friends blended in perfectly. Daphne recognised only a handful of the students from her walks in the hallways at school and she mentally complimented their fits, briefly staring if they looked extra gorgeous.

Without wasting any time, Nick advised they’d have a little drink before dinner and, meeting no one’s objection, he led the way to the little bar on the living room’s right. As they did so, they caught the attention of a few students among which was Taehyung. He’d recognised the group immediately but before he could check if Daphne was present, Avyanna called for him to quickly help her outside. Mentally sighing and rolling his eyes, he obliged and rushed behind her, easily catching up despite how fast she tried to be in heels.

The fifteen minutes before dinner time flew by between words in conversations and lyrics. With a little announcement from Jungkook, the front door was closed and the back doors were opened, welcoming the guests to the long table in the backyard by the well-lit pool. Some of the guests focused on admiring the view before their eyes, others appreciated the effort put into the preparations while others like Cleo rushed to take their spot at the table.

 With her hand clasped around Nick’s and Daphne’s, the five friends sat approximately close to the centre. James sat next to Nick and Asher next to Daphne. It was a matter of seconds before the people around them settled down too.

Daphne placed her phone next to her plate on the table and chuckled when she saw Cleo adjusting her skirt, looking a bit frustrated but she froze when, lifting her head, she saw, aligned with James and in front of her, Taehyung settling down on his chair. In order, next to him, and in front of her, were Jimin, Jungkook, Avyanna and, at last, Adrielle. 

All of a sudden, she didn’t know where to place her focus, whether on the person making her heart migrate from her chest to her ears or his stunning friends serving looks instead of food. She eventually decided to check herself one last time with her phone, wanting to look good at least. Taehyung noticed that when he saw her look into her cellphone and adjust her hair. 

She might have seen that as a refinement process, but he believed it was unnecessary. Can you perfect what’s already perfect? Gold can’t get any more gold, can it? If she could read his mind, her cheeks would’ve become darker than the warm light from the mansion behind her, complementary to the shade of the sky above their heads.

Once everyone was well put, Adrielle got up to begin her speech. Only at that moment did Taehyung’s attention leave Daphne: he wanted to listen to his friend and see how she would perform since he knew all the work behind composing the speech—he was always there when she was working on it asking him for tips.

“Good evening everyone,” she began. “First of all, I want to thank all of you for coming. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here in a moment like this… dressed like this and behaving like this,” she gestured to her friends with a smile spread across her face. 

Before proceeding, she took a deep breath and all her friends saw through that. Avyanna acted upon it and rubbed her leg from underneath the table to ease the nerves. From the other side of the table, Daphne smiled at her, mentally complimenting the girl for her guts because, knowing how anxious she gets, she herself would never be able to be in the same position and perform as well.

She didn’t notice that her subtle smile remained throughout the full speech. Didn’t know that it broke Taehyung’s attention from his friend right at the moment he decided to glance in her direction. The smile was so little but he was enchanted, bewitched by her beauty. Many thoughts ran through his mind as he admired her. Her eyes were glowing, the waves in her hair shined with the light around her and whenever the smile widened and swelled her cheeks, his heart would grow in his chest and skip a beat.

She was fucking unreal. Her beauty was mystical, eloped reality. To him, no Greek god or goddess could stand a match. She’d make the next Aphrodite. Maybe the first. The original. The doer. She’d be Daphne but instead of turning into a plant, she’d be an angelic flower, an exceptional type, with myths and legends surrounding it: whoever has it in their garden or stumbles across it will reach a stage of enlightenment and they’d discover the real beauty which would lead them to see the world from a different light, a brighter one. Nothing on Earth would be able to come close to her comeliness, not even a thousand light-years away. She was out of this world. A planet from a universe of its own and his dream would be reaching it.

He almost jumped on his seat when everyone started clapping as the speech came to an end and he had to blink wondering how everything happened so fast.

“Again, thank you all and we hope you’ll enjoy the dinner. Bon Appetit.”

—Now playing: Miss Independent by Ne-Yo ✫

She couldn’t see it nor hear it but Daphne felt like there was someone if not her clone, standing right next to her patting her shoulder and complimenting her for making the right choice. Daphne decided that Margot’s sixteenth birthday party would not scar her ideas of parties forever and her clone—or whatever—was glad about that. Glad that the seventeen-year-old wavy-haired girl eating at the long table came to the party in the first place and allowed herself to have a good time breaking free the shackles of anxiety at least for the night.

Next to her, her curly-headed friend couldn’t keep her mouth busy on one thing at a time, bouncing back and forth between eating, laughing and talking. 

She’d dared Daphne to act all fancy so they would see who would nail it the most at the end of the dinner but she was already slacking: whenever Nick or Jungkook would make a joke, she’d happily laugh, no thoughts in her head, not even a little reminder that food was in her mouth. She’d realise it only a split second later and slap her mouth closed. 

Daphne believed she was doing this to sabotage her because it was tough for her not to burst into a guffaw for the genuine fear in her friend’s eyes.

Cleo had serious trouble with having thoughts in her mind. Liked to live life for the moment and as it presented itself. What could occupy her mind came from the present—or the past—but never the future—unless she was at a volleyball match. 

Daphne was her polar opposite. Having to deal with anxiety, she was very familiar with the unfunny activity of overthinking. If anyone were to ask her when the last time she pondered too much on something was, she probably wouldn’t be able to answer. The first response that could pop into her mind would be “physics” but she feared it would be wrong because there’s a high chance she’d thought too much about something after that—something smaller but surely something.

Soon, Cleo’s mind was clouded with James, Jungkook and Nick’s jokes which got better with each spoonful of food she put in her mouth. A joke would come from one of the boys and she’d be struggling between laughing because of it, because of how goofy her friends look or sound when they laugh—especially the dramatic Jungkook sitting across from her—and because she was very close to choking on her food.

On the other end, Daphne’s mind welcomed different thoughts. The little dare was nowhere to be found nor was physics or anything she could have spent more than two minutes thinking about that day. The boy sitting on the other side of the table occupied each and every thought in her head and watched her as if she were an Oscar-winning movie. Worse of it all, she couldn’t whole-heartedly make such a conclusion because she didn’t know if he was looking at her and wondering why she was looking at him but she tried to push the scary thought to the back of her mind and, hopefully, make it leave completely.

Their eyes had met multiple times, too many times for Daphne’s liking. She compared it to that one moment you shared too much eye contact with one random kid in class. 

She’d move her eyes on the plate, carefully watch as she cut herself a piece of meat, took it with her fork and brought it into her mouth. Occasionally, whenever she swallowed, she would grab her glass of water and stare into nothingness as she drank from it. The same pattern was followed when she’d grab the napkin to clean her mouth. Everything was done while trying to come off as unbothered and not awkward.

At that moment what she needed, who she needed—and she didn’t know—wasn’t her clone anymore but more like Taehyung’s, a voice that would tell her to calm down, would let her know that there was nothing for her to be worried about and that she shouldn’t let Anxiety in despite the insisting knocks.

It seemed to Daphne that they were sharing too many glances but that was possible only because he was the one instigating everything. 

He would look in her direction, admire and let all the little details that brought her to life revive his bored and sleepy mind. He would play a thousand different scenarios in his head about all the ways he could approach her that night and, when she’d look in his direction, he’d look at her more intently as if trying to send the message. 

He’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip beats—yes, multiple ones—whenever she looked at him for more than a second and a half.

Obviously, she wasn’t getting the message, probably due to connection problems or simple errors because he could see in her eyes all the stages of panic she walked through whenever she abruptly interrupted the eye contact. He’d have to call for some maintenance work to be done to the connection and his device because nowhere in heaven, earth and even hell would he go on having obstacles keeping him away from someone he likes this much.

He still hasn’t got the chance to look at her outfit yet. Had seen her face—marvelled at it basically—and her makeup. She didn’t look nice. More. She looked like a painting, a sculpture representing a Greek goddess. He believed she’d found the colours that compliment her the best. Brown was her go-to every day but a part of him was sure she’d nail red and green as well, but he was happy with the warm glow brightening his eyes because he couldn’t look elsewhere but at her. 

Her hair was on point, as always, and he loved it. They looked soft, bouncy and the waves followed a smooth path similar to a spatula running on some paint.They continued onto her shoulders and down to her back but he couldn’t see them nor her shoulders since she had her jacket on.

When he looked at her, he was convinced she was the definition of art, multiple drawings combined together to make the final result—impressionism to another level: her hair resembles the wavy markings of hills in valleys; her eyes collected every single existing galaxy, discovered and undiscovered; multiple paint brushes would bring her skin to life and her surroundings would lack any type of detail and structure, losing every single meaning around her outstanding presence and overshadowing glow. She’d be painted with the pursuit of perfection of renaissance artists and the attention to the light of impressionist artists—everything to try and recreate the glimmer radiating from her and the faultlessness of her essence.

She would be the number one model for every single artistic era. Intriguing and fascinating to study and, again, try to replicate on paper, a way to encapsulate her presence in time so the coming generations would know that such a masterpiece existed and walked the earth. It would remind everyone that such glamour never dies—it could kill the spectator but never itself. For now, he was the number one fan sitting in the centre of the front row so he could catch everything from any and every existent corner. Would he die? He didn’t know but if he would, he’d be glad to have died because of her.

“What’s in store for the rest of the night? Like what have you prepared for the party?” Cleo’s plate was already empty just as the ones of many since the first half of the night was rolling closer to its end. Jungkook’s plate had been emptied multiple times: first, it contained his share, then some leftovers from Adrielle, Avyanna and Daphne who he didn’t know ate little  because she was drinking water nonstop to ease the overbearing heat bubbling within her guts. The butterflies were causing too much movement and movement caused heat. Her stomach was like a boiling pot.

“Fun.” He simply stated, emptying another glass of water. “Fun?” and he nodded, reconfirming his words.

“Can’t spoil anything, sorry,” A smirk altered his facial expression before he got up. Cleo looked at Daphne and her eyebrows wiggled. “You ready?” her eyes were speaking to Daphne’s and the girl smiled, emptying her glass of water. They lingered on Cleo for a bit long before moving to Nick and James for no reason, apparently. The real motive was the stunning human being who, after spending his time looking at her more than at his food, had got up to catch up with his friend. Unbothered was what Daphne tried to come off as—“I ain’t looking at you… totally”— but he didn’t know nor care—she could be sleeping or doing the most straining activity on earth and he’d still look at her as if she was a model on the runway or a highly-anticipated movie at its premiere.

Her little act had to abruptly come to an end when menservants came to start collecting the plates and clearing the table. Her eyebrows retreated from her eyes as she watched. When Avyanna described the party on the community blog, she didn’t know it’d be this serious. 

A little smile rose on her face as she commented about it in a whisper to Asher’s ear who’d been sitting next to her without uttering a word throughout the dinner—he probably did but she would never know since she could barely pay attention to herself.

As the servants did their thing, Jungkook came back outside and announced the beginning of the night and, like a flock of pigeons going after pieces of bread, the guests headed inside. 

The noise rose, excited voices heard from left to right but soon music shot through the speakers and overshadowed them.

—Now playing: 1-800-hot-n-fun by LE SSERAFIM ✫

Among these now hidden voices was Cleo’s who called for Daphne to follow her after telling the boys where they were going. Daphne didn’t hear her but, as they made their way through the already thick crowd inside, she came in closer and explained .

“We’ve got to drop our bags and jackets else we won’t be able to have fun!” Cleo’s smile shone as bright as her eyes in the warm lighting of the rustic house. As explained to them before, they could keep their things in a room on the right on the ground floor, a room Daphne obviously didn’t know her way to but Cleo seemed to be familiar with the place so she simply followed her lead.

When they got there, they found company. Other girls were changing their shoes from heels to comfier ones, some were adjusting their makeup in the mirror hanging on the left wall while others were keeping their stuff just as Daphne and Cleo. Daphne didn’t bring any extra pair of shoes because the boots she had were very comfortable while, on the other end, Cleo shuffled out of her heels and slipped into a pair of black All-Stars. Since her skirt was long, her feet were barely ever in view so she didn’t give fucks.

While her friend handled her things, Daphne checked herself in the mirror. She didn’t move up close but remained at the door and shyly posed from afar and behind the figure of a girl adjusting her makeup. Now that she looked at herself, her cheeks warmed up for the umpteenth time that evening. Her face was crowned by the wavy pattern of her curtain bangs and her hair proceeded down to mid her back working as a cover to the backless top she had on. As for the bottoms, she wore the same low-rise pants Cleo had bought her the other day and she couldn’t say she wasn’t looking good. She just hoped it looked good enough to have a certain pair of eyes transfixed on her. Oh if only she knew.

“Okay, let’s go— Wait— How do I look?” Cleo adjusted her hair quickly and, with one hand on her waist and the other hitting the peace sign, she posed waiting for her friend’s reply which didn’t come late, “Stunning, darling.” After a smile and giggles, the two girls were out of there and heading back to the living room where the music was banging louder than before.

Daphne’s hand was clasped in Cleo’s as they walked back. On their way there, they walked past Adrielle and Avyanna who were giggling and rushing upstairs. The two girls didn’t notice Daphne and Cleo, too engrossed in their laughter and trying not to trip and fall in the visibly uncomfortable pair of heels they both wore. Daphne’s eyes marvelled at them, at their looks. Adrielle’s hair appeared golden thanks to the reflection of the lights and she discovered that Avyanna’s was actually dark brown and not purely black. 

While the brunette was dressed in a black and white dress similar to one Daphne had seen a celebrity rock at the Met Gala, Adrielle’s outfit was composed of more things: a low-waisted pleated grey skirt for bottoms and an off-shoulder black long-sleeve as a top, giving way for the necklace sitting around her neck; her hair was held back out of her face by a white hair band and her feet were first in white socks and then in a pair of pointy black heels. She looked straight out of Gossip Girl. Formal and still fabulous.

Her looks seemed to have set Daphne in a little state of trance that she didn’t notice when they’d made it back to their friends who returned to drinking, having fun reading the names of the cocktails and guessing which one would taste the best.

Daphne’s head looked up to the blackboard hung above the counter filled with different names and cute little doodles here and there. She too wondered what each of them would taste like since the names barely said anything about the ingredients but soon her friends decided that their goal for the night was getting wasted so why not drink every single one and widen their horizons?

They all ordered the same thing so they’d actually drink every single one listed. Its name was funny, too difficult for Daphne to try and pronounce, but the taste was the opposite. As long as Daphne was concerned she’d pass on it any day. Asher’s face mirrored her thoughts.

“Not the best, is it?” Cleo asked face scrunched a bit at the taste as she looked for answers in Daphne’s eyes. Her friend shook her head bringing the drink in front of her face to look at the possible ingredients it was made with. Nick’s face showed pure disgust as he pushed the glass away from him.

“Nah, man. What the fuck is this? It’s so strong and tastes horrible on top of it. Not even the worst of break-ups could have me drinking something like this.” Cleo chuckled before bringing the glass back to her lips.

“You still drinking it?” Daphne asked, surprised painted in her orbits. Cleo nodded, refusing to let anything go to waste and as she drank it, James watched her with his face contorting the more she went on.

“You can’t waste it.” The power of the drink outweighed Cleo’s voice as she spoke and cleared her voice.

“It’s deleting her voice, it can’t be good,” was the only reply she got from James. Asher laughed before starting to sip on his, having the same idea as Cleo.

—Now playing: The Way I Are by Timbaland, Keri Hilson, D.O.E. ✫

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nick and James spoke in unison when Daphne joined the train of self-harming people. “This shit’s horrible—”

“But you can’t let it go to waste. Come on,” Asher hissed before going back to drinking, head bopping to the beat of the new song playing from the speakers. Cleo was soon moving as well, expressing happiness one moment and then disgust the next whenever she’d sip on the drink.

“What’s its name again?” Nick squinted his eyes and read the blackboard, “Who chose this shit?” he asked another question.

“Aren’t we following the order? It’s the first on the list.”

“I think we should take turns choosing a random one,” he suggested before taking the tiniest sip from the drink and cringing at the pungent taste hitting his tongue.

“Nope, absolutely not. You’re just looking for someone to blame if the next drink taste like shit again,” Cleo objected before downing the last drops of the drink and urging her friends to do the same. “Come on, guys. This is fun—”

“Fun?!”

“You mean ‘disgusting’.”

“Come on. All in one go,” she urged more, nodding at Daphne whose glass was already half empty since she was impatient to get rid of it as soon as possible.

Nick and James sulked around like grumpy kids before complying and after Cleo counted to three, they all downed the drinks. Daphne and Asher in one go while Nick and James had to swallow a couple of times to empty their cups. Once they were done, their heads dropped back down and their faces contorted in the most genuine display of dislike and disgust, James’s face the most as he looked like he’d drank a squash of fresh lemons.

Daphne laughed and after the boys recollected themselves, they went back to the counter and ordered the next on the list. This one again had an incomprehensible name but, since Daphne wasn’t used to drinking, she didn’t know if already that single glass of whatever the fuck was getting to her brain. Besides, it was pretty strong and drinking didn’t need to be a habit for one to claim such.

Unlike their first, this one was sweeter, too sweet according to Asher and perfect for the remaining four. It seemed to have fueled their energy to the max, especially Cleo’s who emptied her cup in milliseconds and dragged Daphne to the dance floor. The boys immediately finished theirs and joined them.

—Now playing: Pon De Replay by Rihanna ✫

Before they even made it there, Cleo’s body was already moving to the music along the ones of the numerous people on the dancefloor. The oldest people in the house, outside from the servants and the guards, were probably nineteen and the youngest could be sixteen-year-olds waiting for their seventeenth birthday to hit, being born in autumn or winter, so the dances weren’t too extraordinary—depending on the person. Some couples were already going at it, acting like they were the only ones in the room. Some simply jumped at the beat while little groups of friends, such as Daphne’s, happily and carefreely danced to the music, arms in the air and hips snapping left to right.

Once she’d reached the centre of the floor, Cleo finally turned around, raised her hands and started dancing. Her lack of awkwardness and shyness gradually pushed Daphne to ease her nerves and join her in the groove. The moves started lowkey, moving from subtle to bolder movements and soon her arms were in the air too. Head, turning left and right with her hair following along.

Earlier that evening when she was getting dressed, she feared the backless top would cause her to feel too cold considering the season and the weather but, without her knowledge, the room had got so hot that the top felt too much, as thick as a wool sweater.

“Hey everybody!” a loud voice spoke through a microphone and the speakers and the dancers momentarily interrupted their groove to look in the direction of the DJ where they found a boy, probably their age if not slightly older, with headphones around his neck and his set in front of him which he was already operating.

“I hope you’re all having a great time!” he yelled, arm in the air as he spoke. “I’ll play some club classics and I want whoever knows the lyrics to sing along. Hey, y’all drinking there, come have some fun!” The instructions were clear and, in a few moments, the dancefloor got a bit tighter as more people joined.

—Now playing: Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child ✫

As soon as the beat dropped, the crowd screamed in joy. Arms in the air and voices loud and clear as they all sang along, distorted and out of tone when the notes went higher. Daphne noticed, her true facial expression slipping through before she even realized it. Cleo mirrored her as they laughed and went back to singing along. 

In a matter of seconds, they felt like they were back in Cleo’s living room dancing and singing to ABBA, giving each other lines, trying as if to impress each other and sometimes moving in sync as well. Their little bubble burst when Nick and James started dancing in sync next to them. Their moves were satisfying to watch and soon more people joined in and copied them, Daphne, Cleo, Asher and the guests, giving the DJ a very nice view to observe.

“Eh! Eh! Eh!” The crowd exclaimed in unison as it moved, the beat of the music replaced the one of their hearts and the flow, the one in their veins.

The DJ was soon bopping to everything, not bothering to hide the wide smile on his face. He placed a hand on his headphones while the other rushed to mix a few things because the song was soon coming to an end and he had to connect the next one right after. As he did all this, Avyanna climbed up the steps to meet him on the platform. Her outfit was completely different: she wore a space blue lacy tank top that revealed her black bra underneath and, as bottoms, she had a low-waisted mini jean skirt. The heel of her boots clicked on the platform as she took a spot next to the DJ, a microphone soon in her hand.

This was her unofficial role at parties: if she wasn’t shoving her tongue down someone’s throat or shoving drink down hers, she’d be up on the platform next to whoever was the DJ hyping up the crowd. She’d lost count of how many DJs—girls or boys—that she’d made out with or had a one-time thing with. The boy with the headphones next to her wasn’t a stranger but a regular at Jungkook’s parties. Through his parties, the two had become not just employer and employee but close friends. He went by the name Nathan and, sadly for her, he wasn’t looking in her direction.

He obviously knew her and knew what she wanted, but he wasn't interested in casual encounters, even though he seemed to lead her on. This made her realize that he wasn't looking for just a one-time thing but it didn't bother her because she wanted more as well. If only he didn't live in a town away, she would have flirted with him even outside of this context, which could send the wrong message. That night, she wanted to clear up any misunderstandings and finally shoot her shot and hit the centre.

He didn’t budge when she got up and next to him because she was just as good as she looked at entertaining. Work-wise, they made a great team.

“Next song coming up!” he yelled at her through the loud music. She briefly looked at him, smiled, got the message and went into character.

This song was a most at every party Nathan went to because it was one of Avyanna’s favourites and the fuel necessary to fill her tank and have her going crazy. Just as it happens every time, she would start singing along to the lyrics with her movements matching the climaxing flow of the first verse.

On the dance floor, Cleo and Daphne were in their element, acting as if they were in "High School Musical" or on opposing cheerleading teams. Avyanna was dancing with Nathan, and just as the beat dropped, they started jumping along with the crowd. Their energy spread to the people on the dance floor, creating a scene reminiscent of the finale of "Mamma Mia!" when the floor bursts open and water sprays everywhere. 

—Now playing: Dangerous by Kardinal Offishall, Akon ✫

The party was in full swing. Within thirty minutes of the second half of the night, the guests were scattered all over the place. Some were on the dancefloor like Daphne and her friends, some were making out in the various corners of the room, and others were outside in the backyard. 

Taehyung and Adrielle were at the bar, enjoying their drinks. Avyanna, the other only female in her friend group, was very close with the blondie. They had known each other, along with Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung, since before kindergarten. The little circle remained her only friend group, as she had no real friends outside of it. 

Besides Avyanna, Taehyung was her closest friend whom she could rely on. The sight of the brunette dancing and grinding against the DJ on the platform was sometimes too much for her, especially at that moment. Avyanna's twin brother in spirit was Jungkook, as they got along very well and had many things in common. Jimin was similar to Taehyung in a way, although he leaned closer to Avyanna and Jungkook's madness.

The black-haired boy sitting next to her was the only person left who matched her vibe and didn’t make her seem a boring person but, while she was busy looking at how Avyanna was trying to shoot her shot again with Nathan, Taehyung’s eyes searched in vain for Daphne amidst the crowd. He thought it was funny how desperate he was to talk to her that night because no matter how much time one could give him to think about it, he’d still not come up with the perfect way to approach her.

His third glass of the night hit the counter as he licked his lips and stretched out a bit on the chair. Adrielle had finished just one and was sipping on her second which he could predict she’d never finish. To fill up the void of silence between them, he commented on Avyanna who was basically put up a full show for them… again that year.

“Will she ever understand that he doesn’t look at her the way she looks at him?” he spoke. Since the bar was a bit away from the dancefloor, he didn’t have to scream at the top of his lungs for her to hear him. Adrielle chuckled, sipped from her drink a little and replied with a strong “Nope”.

“She wants to take him out literally,”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. She doesn’t like the fact that they get to see each other only at parties when she’s basically her worst. She’s had only one drink so far so if you find her downing more later and getting drunk, just know that things didn’t go as planned.” The two chuckled as they continued watching. Adrielle thought about her friend while Taehyung hoped that wouldn’t happen to him instead.

—Now playing: It’s ok I’m ok by Tate McRae ✫

Daphne and Cleo had lost track of time or of how many songs they’d danced and sang along to. The only thing they were sure to know was that the room had gone very hot despite the back door being left wide open. As they exited and went to the backyard, they felt like it was summer all over again and they’d just been hit with the fresh air of air conditioners in the shopping mall after escaping the sky-scraping temperatures outside.

Daphne took a huge breath in and her body thanked her for it. Cleo did the same before they burst into laughs and commented on how they were basically cooking themselves inside so they decided to have a little walk around the pool to go back to having a normal body temperature. When their bodies got used to the chilly weather of a late October night, they ran back inside—wool sweater where!

Their pace was regular as they headed towards the dance floor but they were called back by their friends who were hanging out in the kitchen, drinks in their hands. The girls joined them as Cleo asked Nick what drink he was having.

“Y’all need to go outside for a bit and take some fresh air,”

“Yeah, it’s hella hot in here and you don’t even know.”

“Nowhere in hell. I saw a lot of cute girls by the bar and once I’m done with this drink, I’m going in to shoot my shot.” James's drink was back at his lips after he spoke. This time around, Daphne was able to control her facial expression but she was internally side-eyeing firstly James and then Asher. Maybe she had wrong suspicions because, as far as she’s concerned, never would she think of, let alone say, something like that in front of who she likes more than a friend. As if reading her mind, Asher inched closer and passed her his drink, allowing them to share glances that held heavy words behind them. Daphne sipped on it and, from her body language, he could tell that they had the same thought in their head but this wasn’t noticed by the other three. Cleo was busy asking Nick about his drink while James seemed out of it, out of the group as he looked at the bar from the door opening of the kitchen.

Asher stood next to Daphne and saw as her cheeks swelled in a subtle smile at the awkwardness he felt in the room with them. She turned to face him and they communicated with their eyes before simultaneously looking at their three friends where, again, James seemed to be third-wheeling.

Moments after, James left the room with Nick tailing behind him and Daphne struggled to hide her expressions, wondering what Nick would have to do with James knowing what the latter’s intentions were. Asher cleared his throat next to her and after taking another sip from the drink, she handed the glass back to him.

“How is it going?” Cleo’s smile proved to them that she was rather unaware of everything or if she wasn’t, she was an amazing actress. The question she formulated was addressed to Asher who quickly swallowed the sip of drink he took before replying and soon they were having a nice conversation. The awkwardness from before left with the boys.

What came into the kitchen next was chaos… along with the J duo: Jungkook and Jimin, the latter was visibly tipsy if not fully drunk.

“Hello there!” Jungkook exclaimed as his arm fell around Cleo’s shoulders. Jimin, in the meantime, stretched his hand forward for a handshake but he was so messed up he almost fell while doing it.

“Damn, you really went easy with it, didn’t you?” Asher’s sarcasm struck in as he dropped his drink to hold the boy. Daphne didn’t utter a word, her face spoke for her and she stretched to take Asher’s drink which was the best one she’d tasted that night. When Asher answered her question regarding the name, Jimin seemed to have come back to his senses and talked about how the drink was amazing. Didn’t take Daphne even mere seconds to guess that it was what had him reach such a state.

Beside her, Cleo and Jungkook were having a little conversation about the party, how the dinner went and how everything was going at the moment. When Daphne’s attention caught a few words from it, she butted in asking about how long it took the boy to prepare everything. Jungkook barely had the time to finish processing his answer in his head before Jimin almost screamed that he was the one who took care of the catering, claiming credit before his friend could say anything.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and proceeded, “ I started like… maybe a week or two ago.”

“Initially I wanted to invite the whole school but we made the calculations and the house isn’t able to contain everyone. It’s already hot as it is now—”

“Shut up! That wasn’t the reason! You just didn’t want to take responsibility if some 10th graders fucked up the party by doing something stupid—”

“Which is a reasonable motive. I’m a pretty irresponsible person myself and I’m eighteen. When I was fourteen, I did crazy stuff and, honestly, it scared me to think that maybe someone as crazy as I was or even more—which would be impossible—would be out there and waiting to place responsibility for their stupidity on me. Me? Take a good look at me. I’m not fit for shit like that. I can barely stand my little brother let alone a stranger!” The dramatic side of Jungkook’s personality soon kicked in and they were all laughing, including wasted Jimin.

“Well, for being the irresponsible teenager you claim to be, you handled it well,” Daphne commented. Asher’s drink was already halfway finished in her hands.

Jimin mimicked her voice in a squeaky tone before objecting, “Don’t let his looks fool you. You don’t know half of it and besides, when it comes to hosting parties he always seems responsible. He be talking about the 10th graders as if he doesn’t act the same way at other parties himself at his current big fat age—”

“Okay, okay. We get it, you’re drunk as fuck.” As the two friends bickered, Cleo, Asher and Daphne laughed at them, especially at Jimin who tried not to slur his speech.

“Anyway, is Avyanna dating the DJ?” Cleo’s head nudged towards the culprits who were at the bar having a drink together. Jungkook looked in their direction, Jimin included but he was holding onto Asher so he wouldn’t trip and fall since he had to stretch a bit to see through the door.

“Don’t really know, honestly. She’s very interested and that’s all I know.”

It was only when Jimin asked for Jungkook to get to the bathroom that the group was separated and Daphne, Cleo and Asher went looking for their friends. Again, Cleo was leading the way and because of the music, she couldn’t hear what Asher and Daphne talked about.

“Well, I guess James doesn't like her like that,” Daphne spoke first, arms linked with the boy so she wouldn’t get lost. Asher smirked before replying, “I don’t really know. He’s weird tonight.”

“Maybe he’s sick and tired of third-wheeling or Cleo’s lack of response. I don’t know, I’m just guessing.” Another chuckle from the boy who, as he’d stated, didn’t know what everything was about. He couldn’t be hallucinating when he believed that James had something for Cleo and that was proven when, barely a month into their friendship, Daphne voiced her suspicions to him. It meant that he was not seeing wrong and James’s crush is indeed obvious but his behaviour that night threw everything in the air.

—Now playing: Genie In a Bottle by Christina Aguilera ✫

Their little gossip was interrupted when they found the two boys playing ping-pong in a corner of the living room. Nick and James are always very easy to find in a crowd: first, they are often the tallest in the room and second, they are very loud. Exactly, whenever they saw their opponent miss their shot after the ball bounced, they’d start screaming and howling. Strangers would think they were drunk and probably be right but it wouldn’t be surprising if they weren’t.

Cleo was the first to reach over and the first person she approached, not surprisingly, was Nick who was playing the ball and showing his joy by howling in Cleo’s smiling face. Asher and Daphne’s gossip, long gone by the time they were next to James. Coincidentally they’d arrived right when the match ended which explained their friends’ excessive joy.

The heat in the room had reached crazy heights for James as he shook his loose shirt to blow himself some fresh air. Daphne and Asher could see it from the hair strands sticking to his forehead.

“It’s hella hot in here,” Asher agreed at James’s unspoken comment and as if they’d read each other’s minds, they left to where Daphne supposed was the backyard. She followed them with her eyes for a little while before turning around and meeting Cleo and Nick serving their first shot against the same team that lost to him and James.

She could only watch as her friends played and celebrated each point they scored. She stood beside the ping-pong table with her arms crossed and eyes moving from left to right as though she were watching Cleo play volleyball. Whenever her friends’ scored, they would drop their rackets on the table, high-fived each other and scream in each other’s faces as if they were playing American football and had to hype each other up, all this before turning around and sipping from one of the numerous drinks James and Nick had ordered before starting their first game.

Daphne would smile, laugh sometimes, but it was a matter of time before she got bored. Cleo and Nick’s opponent had a familiar face to Daphne. She’d probably seen them at school in the hallways but she could tell that Cleo and Nick’s joy was pissing them off, especially because they were numerous points away from catching up. Exactly, proving her suspicions, when the match came to an end, they bitterly threw their rackets on the table causing a loud bang that startled her.

“Salty bitches!” Cleo exclaimed, giggling with Nick as Daphne scolded her with a glare. When her eyes landed on the friend, Daphne realised she was drunk.

“You can’t be saying shit like that,” she spoke, arms losing from their previous position. Cleo blew raspberries in her opponents’ direction before turning around to high-five Nick and drink some more.

After audibly swallowing the last drops in his glass, Nick called in for Daphne to play to which she replied with a blank stare, looking back and forth between him and the empty spot on the opposite. “I have no one to team up with,” she spoke before crossing her arms again. As if he was listening to their conversation, a third voice chirped in, offering to play with her.

The owner was behind Daphne so she couldn’t see them but when she heard Cleo pronounce a very familiar name it seemed her surroundings fell into an immense silence that muffled the sounds coming from the speakers and all the guests present.

“Hey, Taehyung!” Cleo waved at him and he winked back, taking his spot opposite her. Daphne quickly came to her senses and went to her spot opposite Nick and next to him. 

He smelled so heavenly, she thought to herself, it overshadowed the smell of sweat and alcohol that lingered in the hot air. His presence was thick and couldn’t go unnoticed, at least not to her.

“First serve goes to the losers!” Nick hit the ball into their court. “Losers? We haven’t even started.” The immense silence from before came back as if it had excused itself to the bathroom before. Now, other than overshadowing the music and the chit-chattering around her, it greatly highlighted Taehyung, especially his voice, as he replied to Nick. She glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at her but challenging Nick with eyes, a smirk across his pretty face. Daphne hoped her friends would believe the room was getting too hot when her cheeks would catch warmer shades. She totally was not blushing right now—totally.

He had kept his jacket somewhere else and didn’t have it, giving way for Daphne to check him out as sneakily as she could. Every little detail was taken care of: no wrinkles in view but rather the straight line on his pants implied they were ironed properly; a nice watch around his wrist and a few rings on his fingers; he didn’t do anything to his hair, leaving them natural just as she loved them; the button-up he wore exposed a bit of his chest  and the moccasins on his feet were the final touch needed to finish the outfit. He looked so good she felt weak in the knees because she desperately wanted to tell him, scream it at him.

Taehyung served the first shot into the game and Nick replied, sending it over to Daphne who hit back towards Cleo. Her friend was hopping on the other side of the table and vivaciously hitting the ball whenever it came in her direction. Her vivacious energy was the perfect contrast to Daphne’s who seemed poised out of free will but she was just trying to impress the beautiful boy playing beside her. The last thing she wanted was to be the reason they lost, especially against Cleo and Nick who will remind them about it forever—oh if only she knew that Taehyung wouldn’t give a fuck. The reason he was playing at all was so he could find an excuse to present himself and talk to her. The ping-pong match was just a means to an end.

A great side of her wanted to stop playing, lean on the table and look at him. Admire, admire and admire—the new hobby sitting on her list after reading, writing, daydreaming about him and happily hopping around her room with her dogs whenever she felt butterflies from the imagination.

On the other end, admiring her was his new pass time, at the top of his list and he liked to engage in it whenever he could just like he was doing seconds before asking to play with her. 

After dinner, he was finally able to find her when she walked inside from the backyard. Was he stunned? Bamboozled? Charmed? Immediately obsessed? He couldn’t choose—most likely all. She walked right past him with her friend and his eyes followed her better than a police car tailing an overspeeding one. He didn’t know that she was hiding that top under the jacket and if she looked good before, she was stunning—literally—now.

She really knew how to dress to get a certain reaction from people but, as far as he was concerned, she could dress in a goofy overall and his jaw would still be scraping the floor, her beauty blinding him from feeling any sort of pain.

Since that moment, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He sat in a corner of the room, planning all different ways to approach her, waiting for the perfect moment to say 'hi'. He observed as she chatted with her friends, when Jimin and Jungkook joined them, and when they eventually left. Then, James and Nick departed, and she went to play ping-pong. When the other players left after losing, he felt grateful for the opportunity to finally step in. And that was how he ended up playing ping-pong with the girl he had a massive crush on, even though they had never spoken before.

He hit the ball harder into the opposing court, catching the drunk opponent unaware and Nick missed his shot. Daphne looked at him as a beautiful grin grew on his face, eyes still challenging Nick’s and racket spinning in his hand. She wanted to turn the other side and scream into her hand because of how attractive she found him but before she could even think of when to do so, his attention moved to her and he complimented her, lifting a hand so they could high-five. She fought so hard through her shyness—Achilles would be jealous—and high-fived him back, struggling as well to stop thinking about the fact that their hands just met.

Nick serves the next shot, the game restarts and, after hitting back, Daphne quickly moves her hair to one side to allow some air to hit her heck and possibly help her body leave sizzling temperatures. Taehyung saw her, without knowing why she did it. He just knew she looked heavenly. He had to mentally facepalm himself when he failed to reply to Cleo’s shot, being too distracted by the living definition of beauty standing next to him.

Nick and Cleo began to shout and howl joyfully as if they hadn’t scored their first point. They were so loud that he chuckled as he fanned his shirt for some air. Anyone looking in from the outside would think the room was simply reaching elevated temperatures. He was struggling with keeping his composure next to his crush: he really wanted to drop the racket, extend his hand to present himself and confess his love to her but things don’t work like that.

Daphne laughed at her friends as they blew raspberries in their direction and let their competitive side come out as usual. This game was dumb to her. If it weren’t for the handsome subject next to her, this moment would have lasted maybe a day in her memory before vanishing.

—Now playing: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak ✫

That night, Daphne had acknowledged that Cleo wasn’t as good as Nick with alcohol and it was proven when, in the middle of the match, she called for her since she felt like throwing up.

Daphne also learned that if Taehyung was in the same room as her, a drunken Cleo was never to be around her because she’d just fuck up their chance of talking and she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want to stay back but what are friends for if not for helping each other out?

Daphne believed that Nick was most likely putting up an act back there to match Cleo’s energy because he seemed maybe tipsy when he made it to them in the bathroom with a glass filled with water and fully sobered up when he showed enough patience to keep up with Cleo’s little tantrums. Daphne was surprised, watching in a corner as he basically did everything. Seeing her like that, Nick told her she could go and that he would have taken it from there. At first, Daphne wanted to object, convinced he wasn’t in the right state to take care of Cleo but he reassured her and promised he’d phone her if he needed anything.

So, a bit reluctant, she eventually left the bathroom and went to the backyard to cool down after grabbing her jacket. It surprised her to see that the dance floor was still packed with people and she wondered how they weren’t tired. Eventually concluded that the alcohol in their system worked as fuel.

Outside, people hung around the pool, some sat at the now-empty long table while others stood in a corner smoking or using their phones. Amongst the latter, she found Taehyung.

She swung the jacket around her shoulders without properly putting it on and walked up to him. Her arms were back to being crossed to protect her body from receiving the cold breeze from the front.

“Hey.” Her voice came out tiny as she greeted him and caught his attention. Instantly the phone slipped into the pocket of his jacket and a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He greeted back with a tone of voice that perfectly contrasted hers. The grin from before was back on, one hand remained in his pocket with his phone while the other one held his smoking cigarette.

“We didn’t have the chance to present ourselves because—”

“Cleo is super drunk. Yeah, it was hilarious,” he chuckled, eyes wandering from her eyes to every other feature of her face. Was it the pool or the lights in the backyard that reflected in his eyes and had them sparkling? The stars are too far away to shine that much in his eyes. She didn’t know the answer to the question but she just knew it made him look so good she could scream and jump into the water.

“What’s even more hilarious is that Nick isn’t drunk, at least from what I deduced. He’s the one helping her right now.” A smile rose on her face and she fought very little to hide it.

“My name’s Taehyung.” His hand was now out of his pocket and put out for a shake.

“It’s Daphne.” They shook hands and smiled at each other. He didn’t know she was extremely shy at that moment just as she was unaware he was internally celebrating the moment.

“Wanna, I don’t know, take a walk around? You can trust me. I know my way around so you have nothing to worry about,” he offered, needing a bit more privacy and a way to hide from his friends because he feared they’d call for his attention right when he wanted it the least.

“Sure.” 

Taehyung led the way, proceeding on his left towards the wide garden Jungkook’s house had to offer. He was barely three steps in before he turned around to see if she was following him, with the intention of slowing down so they could walk side by side.

“You’re new here, ain’t you?” he started the conversation. She remained silent and nodded before talking about the move with a smile across her face. “I used to live in the city but now I’m neighbours with my grandparents.”

“Do you like it better here or do you miss the city?”

“Love it here. I can meet my grandparents whenever I want to, I have a marvellous garden where I can read and have natural silence to go with it. I used to come here on holidays when I was little so it also holds memories.”

“Oh, so it’s not your first time.” He watched her attentively when she spoke. Loved to see how she expressed her happiness on her pretty face. Loved to see her smile. Oh, her smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Nope. I still have the same bedroom from ten years ago and my lovely old dogs welcome me every time I step foot at home,” she chuckled as she spoke, looking up at him.

“How many dogs?”

“Two. My grandparents adopted them when I was eleven and I met them a handful of times on holidays. Now they’re basically my roommates.”

Taehyung laughed before talking about his dog to reply to her. “I have just a dog and I think it’s more than enough. Don’t take it wrongly, he’s amazingly adorable but he can be a handful sometimes especially during summer holidays when it wakes me up as soon as the tiniest ray of light makes its way in the sky.”

After leaving the backyard, they ambled along a stone path that cut through the grass. Their way was lit by the lamppost placed along the way. The compound was vast. On their left was the immense building while, on the farther right, was the garage in front of which parked cars reflected in the light.

“Still happens?”

“Yeah… and I hate it because for this party here, and for the campaign as a whole, I kept going to bed late so… you guess it.” Daphne chuckled and he didn’t know that in the little moment of silence, she was connecting all those days without him in the bus as probably related to the campaign, remembering how boring it was not having him there despite never speaking to him. it ‘s just his presence, something so simple, that could have her going in shambles.

“The party was great. I would never be able to take on such a huge responsibility. I’d fear I missed something or shit.”

Taehyung nodded multiple times as he drew a little from the cigarette and blew the smoke out. “I feared that too but, you see Jungkook, he’d mastered the task of planning and organising parties so he’s so experienced and you can’t miss a thing when you work with him.”

“Yeah, he told me about it a little before. Said he was scared of inviting 10th graders and stuff so he had to restrict the age range.” Taehyung chuckled, recalling the memory and replied, “I’d be scared too. He’s all about fun and the last thing he’d want at his celebrations is a party-pooper.”

The two teenagers walked almost in sync side by side, Daphne with her arms crossed and Taehyung with one hand in his pocket and a cigarette in the other. The little space between them was the only thing that made them seem like strangers despite the way they were orbiting closer to each other.

“Reminds me of my friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Nick and James can get wild when they want,”

“And I probably don’t even know half of it because I met them on the first day of school. The sole reason I know them at all is because of Cleo,”

“You didn’t meet Cleo on the first day of school as well?”

“No, no. We’re neighbours and I have known her since when I was a child. She’s the friend I had whenever I came here on holiday. It was very lovely to see that she was so excited to have me back for good the day I moved here.”

There was a huge sense of comfort she found in the conversation. Maybe it was Taehyung, maybe she was still tipsy or maybe it was the weather but she spoke to him as if he knew her somehow. Perhaps it was the feeling of family that the town exuded. She talked about her friends very openly because he knew them, even better than she did, and it removed a lot of barriers between them, the kind of barriers that strangers often face.

“Yeah, well, every friend group in this town has been formed since childhood. We have only one school for each type so once you meet in kindergarten, you’ll go on together till the last day of high school.” His words added to the pre-existing sense of comfort within her.

“So you know Jungkook since kindergarten?”

“My friends? I have known them since even before that. Our parents are close so…”

Daphne nodded in acknowledgement and wondered how good it must feel to know someone for such a long time. They could be considered a sibling at that point.

“You smoke?” Taehyung asked her if she wanted to take a few draws. She was not a smoker, at least not as he was. He always smoked at least a cigarette a day and it was always in the morning before catching the bus. Worse was when he was stressed but that was not to be talked about at that moment. 

Daphne, on the other hand, smokes only occasionally. She doesn’t own packs of cigarettes nor does she buy them at all. The few times she smoked were at parties to which she was dragged by Margot back in the city. Nonetheless, she agreed and took the cigarette from him to add more fire to the one burning in her stomach at the thought of smoking his cigarette.

“No, I don’t really. I did a few times but I never feel the need to. Smoke only at parties basically.”

She took a few draws from it before handing it back and, as she did so, they shared eye contact which she immediately broke to avoid blushing in his face. How would she be able to excuse that? Smoke doesn’t cause red cheeks. He simply ran his tongue on his lower lip before bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

She was feeling so shy and yet she didn’t want this to ever end and if she could have, she would’ve told her friends just that. “Go on without me. I’m living in my dreams”.

She was so lost in her crush’s galaxy-like eyes and comforting presence that she didn’t check her phone to which Asher had sent a text about their friends’ state: Cleo was very drunk, Nick was exhausted and James advised they went home. She’d read it only before tucking herself to bed later that night.

The walk was interrupted when they made it all the way to the front of the house where, by the gates, her friends were getting settled on their bikes.

“There she is!” Nick pointed at her while she remained confused. “Hurry up! We have your purse. We gotta go home because Cleo’s so wasted and has thrown up multiple times!” James exclaimed the words so Daphne could hear him since she still wasn’t at the gates.

“Oh. I guess I have to leave,” she began, properly wearing her jacket, “It was very nice talking to you.” For the first time that night, she was fully face-to-face with him, neck slightly bent backwards to look at him. His eyes peaked through the curtains of his wavy hair as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, kept eye-contact with her, inhaled and blew the smoke out on his left. Did he know or did he not? This was too much for her but she fought through and kept the eye-contact, hoping that the shy lights around them wouldn’t show her crimson red cheeks.

“Yeah, I had a good time too. I guess we’ll see each other in school.” He was smoking and yet his voice sounded like honey to her eyes. Daphne’s brain momentarily froze at his words. It wouldn’t end there, thank goodness.

With a nod, she replied, “Yeah. See ya and have a good night.” And after waving, she scurried away.

Taehyung didn't go inside just yet and remained still with both hands in his pockets and the cigarette between his lips as he watched her catch up with her friends. He chuckled at the way they quarrelled about who’d ride the bike. Proudly smiled when he saw Daphne climb a bike, a happily screaming James standing behind her, and ride out of the compound, leaving Asher, Nick and Cleo behind. The latter was so drunk that they feared she wouldn’t be able to stay still on the bike so Nick offered to give her a piggyback ride.

Once they were settled, Cleo on Nick’s back and Asher on his bike, they finally left at the same moment Taehyung discarded his cigarette.

Only when they were fully out of view did he smile before heading back to where he was, happy he’d accomplished what he wanted that night. His hands were both in his pockets as he walked. Just like that, the party wasn’t just another party he went to. It was the party and it called for celebrations.

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[betustamorla]

That quiet place in Wayne Manor

In the back of Wayne Manor, where it’s quiet –a different kind of quiet from the wide empty halls of it- and ivy covers the outer wall, showing its shy green hands into the edges of the windows there’s a room. A room in a wing that in other times, had more people residing there; but as time had passed and the previous Master and Madam had passed away, that wing had slowly but surely been emptied until only one inhabited remained. The room in itself was no fancy thing; it was an old room with a bathroom, a bath, and a small parlour –the only room to possess such an anteroom in the whole building-. The room had always belonged to the butler and head of staff of the Wayne household, as it does today, and would probably be as long as the house was in use.

The bedroom was not especially large, just enough to hold the bare necessary furniture; the bathroom was nothing but practical and efficient to clean; as for the small parlour, it was the largest of the small apartment. Yet, it remained small and simple; two high-backed cushioned chairs of a faded maroon colour –it wouldn’t be long before having to be refurbished-, a wooden table between them large enough to hold a lamp, a small plate –that might sometimes hold cookies and some others small cakes-, a teapot, and two tea cups with their respective plates. They all were facing towards a medium fireplace with an immaculate clean mantelpiece in which a set of pictures rest –most of them holding children, sulking ones, glaring ones, smiling ones, sleepy ones, confused ones-. Hanging above the mantelpiece there’s a reproduction of The Evening Angel.

To each side of the fireplace, there are paneled windows that by the late afternoon fill the small room with warm orange light in summer and autumn. A little bit to the left, there’s a wooden door with a small window in its middle that leads to the orchard part of the gardens. On the right wall of the fireplace, there are two bookcases full of books. On the left wall, there’s the door of the bedroom and to its side a table that at its top there’s an electric kettle and several tin metal boxes and flasks filled with tea and aromatic herbs, inside it, behind two glass doors a set of teacups and teapots –some white, some with delicate patterns, some chipped ones-. Behind the high back chairs, there is another bookcase –this one holds a Winchester Model 12, a Danish Butter Cookies tin can filled with sewing materials, and some other mysterious baskets and boxes-, and the door that leads to the inner narrow corridor of the service wing, not too far down from this door, there’s the door that leads to the kitchen and the service staircases that lead directly to the upper floors with the main bedrooms.

In this small room and humble room many have found refuge and comfort throughout the last years;

The brooding child who became a brooding man. He sits in silence while watching the fire –when it’s lighted-, or at The Evening Angel, and drinks black tea.

The angry child who became a smiling man. He sits while chatting and laughing sometimes, at others, he resembles a certain silent brooding man. He drinks his tea with sugar and milk.

The lost child who became a broken man. He sits quietly while reading a book and answers the questions in his own time. He drinks whatever he is given, which usually is calming and herbal.

The clever child who became a tired man. He sits talking quietly, sometimes about meaningful things or sometimes about the last development in a case. He drinks sip after sip from soft green tea.

The silent child who became a wise woman. She doesn’t sit very long, preparing the tea meticulously and in different manners according to their nature is how she spends her time. She loves pu-erh tea.

The violent child who became a caring man. He sits and draws in his sketchbook atop his crossed knee. Jazmine tea is his predilection and he refuses to take any other kind, but he never refuses the sweetmeats. 

When the tea is finished, the empty cups stand forgotten with some leaves and darkened water on their bottom, some crumbs remain on an empty plate, and the two chairs eventually grow cold, awaiting to be warmed again.

[elennemigo]

Benedict Cumberbatch: Sherlock actor's ice cream delight in Woodbridge.

The owner of an ice cream shop hopes Marvel actor Benedict Cumberbatch will sprinkle a little stardust after photos of his visit became an online hit.

Ugur Vatar was amazed when the Sherlock star came into The Creamery and Deli in Woodbridge, Suffolk with his family.

The businessman spent about 30 minutes chatting with "nice guy" Cumberbatch about tough trading conditions.

"It was him who said 'come on, let's have a photo', with the idea it would help," Mr Vatar said.

"I was gobsmacked, we chatted for about half an hour and, would you believe it, not one passer-by noticed him."

It is believed the Doctor Strange actor was staying locally with his extended family, including his wife and children, when he popped into the Market Hill ice cream parlour.

With a star in his midst, Mr Vatar seized the chance to get the A-lister's take on his wacky flavours, including black garlic and charcoal and peach and jalapeno.

"He said 'you're crazy man, how do you even come up with this?' He absolutely loved it," he said.

"He was so interesting, in that he was interested in you."

"He said 'this is the best ice cream I've ever tasted, I'm not pulling your leg', but using stronger wording.

"I explained I just use local milk from Bungay, we've been making it for generations, I work seven days a week."

Mr Vatar revealed his shop had just had a "disastrous" week, taking what he would expect in the slow winter months, while facing soaring energy costs.

"He said 'I feel so sorry for you'. He was so down to earth - I've met a few celebrities here, but none like him, this was totally unexpected.

"We were chatting for so long; he was practically dragged away by his wife."

While Cumberbatch is not on social media, his adoring fans have shared Mr Vatar's photos of the star's visit after he posted them on Facebook.

"It's been shared so thousands of times and I've had messages from Japan - it's crazy," he added.

He said he believed he had made a new friend, as he had seen Cumberbatch since and the actor's family members had already returned to buy ice cream.

"I heard a car beeping the next day, and I looked up and at was him, driving past, giving me a wave." 🚗👋

Such a lovely article, about our lovely man! 🤗🥰

[dreamcarnivaldoll]

✨Angelic Pretty Sweet Themes Zodiac✨

This is just for fun!

Do you think you could build a wardrobe on your theme? Do you have a favourite dress or a dream dress in your zodiac theme?

All stock photos from Angelic Pretty!

Aries - Baked Goods ♈️

- Wonder Cookie

- Toy’s Donut Diner

- Decoration Dream

- Sugar Fairy Cake

Taurus - Circus ♉️

- Starry Night Theater

- Cirque du L’Étoile

- Fantasy Theater

- Magical Etoile

Gemini -Bunnies ♊️

- Bunny Picnic Party

- Marshmallow Bunny

- Cherry Berry Bunny

- Happy Garden

Cancer - Aquatic ♋️

- Jewel Marine

- Marine Kingdom

- Dream Marine

- Aquarium Carnival

Leo - Kitties ♌️

- Magical Milk Cat

- Princess Cat

- Cats Tea Party

- Dolly Cat

Virgo - Strawberry Whip ♍️

- Strawberry Whip

- Triple Tart

- Melty Berry Princess

- Milky Berry

Libra - Celestial ♎️

- Dreamy Planetarium

- Dream Sky

- Cosmic

- Misty Sky

Scorpio - Chocolate ♏️

- Chocolate Quartet

- Melty Ribbon Chocolate

- Melty Chocolate

- Chess Chocolate

Sagittarius - Carousel ♐️

- Eternal Carnival

- Crystal Dream Carnival

- Day Dream Carnival

- Sugary Carnival

Capricorn - Floral ♑️

- Romantic Rose Letter

- Sugar Pansy

- Sweet Lacy Basket

- Dramatic Rose

Aquarius - Toys ♒️

- Melody Toys

- Dreamy Baby Room

- Toy Fantasy

- Toy Doll Box

Pisces - Sweet Treats ♓️

- Milky Planet

- Jewelry Jelly

- Candy Treat

- Fruits Parlour

[everlythequestionabletomboy]

UPDATE LOG 4.2.3 MASTERLIST

Beyond this is the things they added to the 4.2.3 upd of DoL

Please send me an ask if you want me to add something or I missed one

Images/stories I still need

SPRITES

PC SPRITE

Bodytypes

Masc., Fem., and Andro.

Chest/breast sprites

Made the breasts have better visibility

Flattest chest size looks flatter on combat sprite

Added breast sprites to lace nightgown, virgin killer, ball gown, evening gown, open shoulder sweater, pink nurse, plastic nurse, skimpy lolita outfits, open shoulder crop top

TATTOOS

Tattoo Parlour

Any unlocked bodywriting can be turned into a tattoo, even if it's not on the PC

Island

New Triangle, Square, and Circle tattoos [look at the Island page for more info]

HAIR

New

All down

Fishtail braid (left, right, twins)

Half-up

Ribbon tail sides

Low tail

Thick ponytail

Reworked

None

FRINGE

New

Short air vents

Side pinned

Dreadlocks bun

Emo/Emo Left/Emo Right

Reworked

Ruffled

CLOTHES

Outfits

Traditional Maid Dress

Victorian Maid Dress

Shrine Maiden Robes

Virgin Killer Dress

Halter Sundress

Leather Dress

Upper

Cat hoodie

Ao dai Top

School cardigan

School blouse

Polo shirt

Color block crop top

Band t-shirt

Boxy t-shirt

Remade Serafuku

Classic Serafuku

Gakuran

Lower

Ao dai trousers

Plaid school skirt

Plaid school trousers

Plaid school shorts

School pinafore

Plaid school pinafore

Wide leg trousers

Straight leg trousers

Yoga pants

Jean miniskirt

Dolphin shorts

Under outfits

Turtleneck Leotard

Under upper

None 😔

Under lower

Tie Side Bikini Bottoms

Highwaisted microkini bottoms

Legs

Sheer Leggings

Stripped kneesocks

Patterned dress socks

Polka dot socks

Sports socks

Rib-knit socks

Rib-knit ankle socks

Feet

Canvas Loafers

ACCESSORIES

Hats

Hairpins (butterfly + star)

Conical hat

Raccoon cap

Fur cap

Bat beanie

Mini pumpkin

Face

Gas Mask

Doggy Muzzle

Eyepatch

Medical Eyepatch

Monocle

Neck

Love Locket

Fur boa

Hands

Work gloves

ICONS ADDED

Locations

Temple garden, moor, farmlands, temp office, altar, secret path, the churchyard, the dilapidated shop, Eden's cabin, brothel stage [pt1]

Garden plots, stream, gloryhole, park fountain, asylum, sea rocks, waterfall, thicket, Great Hawk's nest, and perch [pt 2]

Rainwater pool, Eden's bed, lake campsite, fishing rock, archaeological field office, Remy's Estate, Great Hawk's tower, Ruins,

Animals

Black Dog

Actions

Riding a horse, question mark for inquires, searching for pots in lake, excersizing/hobbling in heels, gliding, entering town, searching for a mark, praying, and renting a stall [pt 1]

Getting in/out/refusing rides, trick or treating, sitting on the school stump, diving, descending/ascending in water, leaving water, and fixing Eden's cabin [pt 2]

Digging, showering, practise shooting, undo bindings, daydreaming, tilling, watching TV, chatting, singing, and plundering [pt 3]

Making tops/bottoms out of seaweed, meditating, relaxing

Events

Trial of purity

Clothes

Patient gown

Items

Milk, breast milk, chicken eggs, truffles, temple pew, dog treat, bronze key, library desk, soap [pt1]

Lichen, cosmetics, small/medium/large/huge exotic/huge decor fish tanks, auto feeder, tank decor, and sewer safe [pt 2]

Antique watch, grass, antique crystal, scrap, stimulants, torch, fertiliser, antique candlestick, rubble, and mud [pt 3]

Spiderwebs [pt 4]

Objects

Salves, sink, computer, rug, broom, dustpan, gift boxes, wolf chew toy, padlock [pt 1]

Cash register, Eden's valentine's day gift, Eden's coatstand, condom vending machine [pt 2]

Tending

Milk

Breast milk

Chicken eggs

Truffles

Ghostshrooms

"Take all"

Shop

Fetish collar icon is updated

LOCATION ART

Pirate ship

Island

Old Church

Sepulchre

Dilapidated Shop

Meadow

GAME MECHANICS

WORLD MECHANICS

Settings

"Split by Gender Apperance" changed to "Set/Ignore Sexual Orientation

Crime

Split into 10 categories; Assault, Coercion, Destruction of Property, Indecent Exposure, Obstruction of Justice, Prostitution, Resisting Arrest, Thievery, Petty Thievery, and Trespassing.

Crimes the PC has commited would be read out before punishment

Can adjust each crime in the cheat menu

Can view the crime stats in the stat menu

PARASITES

Ear Slime

Added an event that prevents PC to wear under lower garments, unless given directly to them

Sleeping event at Alex's farm

Sleeping event if you study at school naked

Alternate abduction event at the dog pound

At Remy's Farm, it would attempt to force you on all fours and eat grass

May force you to have sex with dolphins

Ear slime tasks are now in the Journal menu

Clit Parasite

Alternative masturbation options if PC has a clit parasite

MASTURBATION

Skip Button

Added a skip button that brings you to the next orgasm

PREGNANCY

Alex the Farmer

Avaliable pregnancy candidate [+more]

Crossdressing Fame

Can lower fame more if seen as a female are pregnant

Paternity Test

Option to do it at the Hospital

SHOPS

Hide Option

Can now choose to hide unavailable items in the shop

FEATS

New

Gilded Spear

Lost World

Face of a Guardian

Wild Monarch

Naturalised

Prehistoric Landscape

SOFT BAD ENDNG

The Island

How to enter, how to escape [+more]

UI

Stats

Sensitivity values can be viewed in the "Extra Stats" tab under "Characteristics"

Options

Confirmation dialouge appears when you try to exit/refresh the page [is on by default in ironman mode]. Can toggle it in the Advanced tab

CHEAT MENU

Clothes

Destroy, repair, dry, and drench clothes at once is added

Visuals

Breast and Cum Values have been replaced with sliders

Pregnancy

More additional options for pregnancy cheats

Teleport

Farmland tp is added

ENCOUNTERS

Double Penetration

Unique cum images is added

Anal

Improved xray sprites

Lower Underwear

Able to pull it to the side during encounters

EVENTS

Hitchiking

"Driving Lesson"

Pillory

Rimming and Watersports outcomes

Whipping and buttplug outcomes

Blackjack

Rimming outcomes

Spa

Rimming outcomes

Car Sex

NPCs will ask if PC needs to be dropped off anywhere after

Chalet

Prostitution opt. added

WARDOBE

Wardrobe Outfit Editor

Added a random color option

Filters

Warmth filter is added

LOCATIONS

ORPHANAGE

Whitney can upgrade the Loft

SCHOOL

Mason

Repeatable scene where he unlocks the chastity belt Winter put on you

Untying your bonds before swim class generates slightly random dialouge

Changing Rooms

PCs thoughts of being in the wrong changing room are more diverse, changes based on Crossdressing Rep

PC is no longer rejected immediately when looking like the opposite gender and is given weird stares and comments

Crossdressing Fame/Rep

Chance to lower crossdressing fame after not

THE POUND

Dog Happiness

Added a description of the dogs happiness on the main screen

NPCS/ANIMALS

WOLVES

Wolf Pack

PC is more comfortable naked around the wolves in the wolf pack

Wolf Cave

You can submit to wolves that advance towards you in the cave

BAILEY

Punishment(?)

Will now deliver PC to the tutorial person if PC stays at the orphanage for the first whole week

ZEPHYR THE PIRATE

Named NPC that is found during the Disguised Escape option

ITEMS

SEX TOYS

Fleshy color option is added to sex toys and strap ons

Fleshy color sidebar renderer is added [no idea what that means]

PLANTS

Flowers/Seeds

Plumeria, tendable [view the Island page for more info]

EXTRAS/MISC

ABILITIES

Clothes

Can tie cardigan around waist

Able to lower suspenders

[master-john-uk]

I watched this television broadcast on BBC2 last night.

Although Queen guitarist Brian May had little knowledge of the facts when he began his campaign against the badger cull, he has been proved right (in my opinion).

"What does a rock star know...?" Actually, after nine years of research he knows much more than most farmers do!

Cattle have to be regularly tested for bovine-Tuberculosis. Any cows ho show a reaction to the current skin test for the infection are murdered... I mean shot humanely. BUT... the current "skin test" for b-TB is less than 30% efficient. With the help of a dairy farm in Devon, Brian May showed that the most effective way to test for b-TB is by checking their anal excretions. And the most likely spread of b-TB is via cow slurry.

I bought the neighbouring dairy farm in Dorset for all the wrong reasons! It was running at a loss with 67 elderly milk producing cows... and all the milking parlours, barns and sheds needed immediate renovation/replacement. It cost me a bloody fortune!!

We are now working with a university Wales to investigate this matter further... and try to find an effective vaccine fir cattle