#ohhh the tags are longer than the post!

[thychesters]

would you guys rather read a long oneshot OR a two-parter

[skunkes]

[bindeds]

[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.

#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,

a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO

masterlist. request something :>

“Sir, someone is here to see you.”

Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.

“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”

“Someone else, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming. 

The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.

You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.

“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?” 

“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.

“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks. 

“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”

.

On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—

“Charlie?” 

“Dad!”

When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.

“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”

“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.

“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”

“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone. 

“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you. 

Something in his room buzzed intermittently. 

Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.

“Ohhh no.”

.

“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”

“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?” 

“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”

Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.

“Ow, what—”

“Go.”

“Babe, what’s—”

“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.

“Honey?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.

“Hey!”

Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.

“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?” 

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”

“Luci.”

“What?” His head snapped in your direction.

A silent gasp escaped you. 

His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain. 

Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”

“We’re just friends.”

“I know that but—”

“It’s an expression.”

Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.

You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.

Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”

“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”

All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.

.

The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable. 

Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.

He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you. 

You bit your lip.

“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.

“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”

“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”

“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”

“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”

“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms. 

Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you. 

“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.

You grinned back. “Okay.”

You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek. 

Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside. 

Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.

“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.

“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended. 

“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.

You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.

“I’m gonna sit back …”

You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into. 

He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high. 

“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.

“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.

You bit your lip. “Well?”

Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree. 

He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint. 

He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.

He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards. 

The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second. 

He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further. 

“Whoops,” he grinned. 

Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you. 

“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”

Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”

“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car. 

Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them. 

You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of. 

He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.

A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips. 

His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.

His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.

“Luci … fuck …”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”

Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.

Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.

It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name. 

His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal. 

Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.

“Luci, please …”

“Please what, honey?”

“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.

“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”

A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.

You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you. 

“You want it all, princess?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.

 “Are you sure?”

“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”

He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.

Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head. 

Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone. 

Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”

He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”

It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed. 

He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.

“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”

You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”

With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace. 

A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you. 

His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less. 

“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”

“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”

His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend. 

Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away. 

“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.

He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.

“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed. 

When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat. 

“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”

You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders. 

 “You?” Was all you could manage. 

“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”

You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.

“In me, Luci!”

He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed. 

“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered. 

“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”

“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”

“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand. 

“Yeah …”

“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him. 

“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.

Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.

Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.

“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”

You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke. 

A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass. 

Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.

You winced as you bent to take it.

Brat >:)

you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]

you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]

HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]

i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]

because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]

bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]

You chuckled as you swiped the notification.

You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al

Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH

You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo

Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole

You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

Vox : ( typing … )

Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—

“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.

Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.

“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.

You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat. 

You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.

He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.

You laughed. Hard.

“What—what’s happening why’re you—”

“The clothes, baby!” 

“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”

“I mean …” you smirked. 

“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking. 

“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”

“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket. 

He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.

“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”

“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“

“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”

“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.

Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened. 

“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”

You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours. 

“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”

“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. 

“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”

“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”

“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said. 

And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.

I know you love me because we love like it’s fate.

.

You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them. 

“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends. 

You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.

“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind. 

“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”

[bejeweledmp3]

LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

ok here she is. the section that has given me so so much hell:

yeah. yeah

ok totp girls (gn). this post gets a single note and i'll tell you the first line of the second (of three) part of chapter 4. just because it's finally coming together and i could weep

[ciginatree]

ohhh myy goddd this post got me thinkin about how the miw members would be in the bedroom :((((

chris is heavy on the brain today

I've got you friend

Also thank you so so so so so much for your patience with this one idk why it took me so long to complete

Chris: He's very into BDSM, but is incredibly careful not to cross any boundaries. If you show any signs of discomfort he stops immediately to assess how you're feeling. He loves it rough; bondage, leather, whips, all the stops. He's big and uses that to his advantage, loving how he can tower over you and pin you down to easily. He knows what he likes and sticks to it, however, he's never opposed to a tender love making session.

Chris Aftercare: Chris is the king of aftercare. He knows exactly what to say and how to hold you to make you feel comforted and loved. He has all kinds of fluffy blankets and comfy clothes for you in case you forget to bring an extra pair. He's more than willing to hold an ice pack to any areas that are sore or bruised.

Ryan: He loves any position where he has control, but his favorites are doggy and cowgirl. When it comes to foreplay, he tends to be impatient. It's not that he doesn't want to give you the attention you deserve, he just wants to be inside you as soon as possible. He likes to degrade you, only if you're comfortable of course, with lots of dirty mutterings and the occasional spanking. He's not very vocal about his own pleasure, some sighs, groans, and grunts at most.

Ryan Aftercare: He's less attentive when it comes to aftercare, but if you ask him to do anything, he'll do it without hesitation. He likes being lazy after sex; it takes a lot out of him. He loves having you lay on his chest while he pets your hair slowly as you both drift off to sleep.

Justin: Missionary with your legs over his shoulders is his favorite, because he can see just how small you are compared to him when you're underneath. One of his favorite things to do is to carry on a normal conversation while he's fucking your brains out to see how dumb he can get you on his cock. He's a tease; edging you until you're in tears, faking sympathy when you're overstimulated, and just about anything else you can think of.

Justin Aftercare: He's very gentle, cleaning you up and carrying you to the bathroom where he'll run a warm bath with salts, bubbles, and lotions. He'll get in with you, laying you back against his chest while he scrubs you clean with scented body wash.

Ricky: Loves missionary so he can see exactly what he's doing to you, and side by side facing each other to be close to you. Thank you @throwingmetothelions for this post because now I firmly believe that Ricky uses essential oils during sex. He's balanced perfectly between rough and caring, praising and degrading you at the same time. He's into anal (only if you are too, of course), some types of bondage, and spanking. Beyond that, he's willing to experiment.

Ricky Aftercare: He's also extremely serious about aftercare. He does his research and asks you about it so he knows what to keep stocked and what to do. However, it doesn't tend to last long with him because he's a busy man with lots to do, but if you need him, he'll always stay longer.

Vinny: Cowgirl and missionary are tied for his two favorite positions. One the one hand, with cowgirl, he can grope your tits and relax while you ride him. But, on the other hand, he can be right down on top of you in missionary, moaning into your neck. He tends to be vocal in bed, never shy about letting you know how good you feel. He loves holding your hand the whole time, even if he's rough. Although, secretly he's a switch at heart.

Vinny Aftercare: He didn't know much about aftercare until you mentioned it to him. He's constantly double checking that he's doing it right, even though he's going above and beyond. He loves spooning and talking about life; he tends to be more vulnerable and open right after sex.

Tags; @abiomens @exitwoundsx @Shilohrosechicken @rumoured-whispers @eternallytiredsinger @miss570

[hermitw]

I've been thinking about this reblog of yours for months and I finally figured out how to respond to it.

I went and read No Longer Human by Junji Ito and it was a very upsetting thing to go through. I don't think I can read it again. However, I came out of it thinking that Gege was probably inspired by it.

When Yozo is first introduced, I noticed that Takaba's backstory was very similar. Feeling isolated from others, he decided to become a clown to gain acceptance from others. (Citations in Image Captions)

And later when Yozo was caught "cheating" (it's in quotes because those women are child rapists), I noticed that her face was really similar to the one Higuruma's client made when he felt betrayed by the trial outcome.

There's probably a lot more to say about how themes surrounding CSA and suicide in this work are echoed in JJK, but I'm not able to make the post myself. No Longer Human is too far out of my comfort zone in terms of graphic depiction to delve into it deeper.

But you seem strong enough to handle it, so... Idk maybe run with this some more.

Ohhh this is so interesting! I could definitely read No Longer Human again - tbh I read Junji Ito's version years ago. This year I listened to the audio book and bought a copy - but it's like, a draft in the author's handwriting (bc I thought it would help me study Japanese and if I had an English translation that I'd read it on repeat lmao). But you're real for that - I forget how disturbed people tend to be trying to read through it, I'm sorry that was rough.

I did go back to read the reblog and idk how relevant all that was - I've reread the manga since and felt like, oh I might have been misremembering some things like Uraume - idk if they actually had a freeze response in ch. 219, since they did tell Yorozu to back off though it took a minute - but it's also interesting how their CT deals with ice. Like to have a fight response, they freeze others? It's so interesting but I can't be sure whether it's there at all. (ik that yap II inspired some more coherent posts, like how it influenced Choso's self-image, etc., I linked but didn't tag you back then bc I felt Annoying especially w heavy topics but I can definitely go back and find them if you'd like.)

On a twin peaks note (without spoiling it), I feel like it inspired jjk to some extent - I've been feeling like the last chapter will end the way s2 did. Or at least - with the weird dreamy themes, "we are the dreamer who dreams and who lives inside the dream", etc...

But you're right - Yozo and the others' reactions resemble more jjk characters than I would think to connect. Takaba's jokes are truly a shield... And now I have an excuse to read Junji Ito's version again? Thank u so much (also isn't it funny how September 28 Uzumaki airs and September 30 jjk ends?).

I think gege gets inspired by the most tragic stories, I wonder how much of that is accurate but I can't always be convinced otherwise.... Especially when anime / manga series that he's confirmed as influences often deal with autonomy in ways that I couldn't handle (Evangelion, the night beyond the tricornered window).

By the way - ik we've mentioned elfen lied before, but in the first episode, you know that coffee mug? How it looks like jjk foreshadowing? Even has snail head Mahito - cut off-, the baseball, Panda, the worm (also cut off).... and later the newborn babies that look just like Yuuji...

I swear that elfen lied, Kagewani, and banana fish influenced jjk. It seems so obvious w those, maybe Vampire Princess Miyu as well.

Sorry for getting off topic - I've been looking into why Momotaro keeps coming up in jujutsu kaisen, and in the end it came back full circle to that damn coffee cup. Invest in a baseball team? A zoo? I'm going insane.

All this to say - rereading Junji Ito's version and seeing if I notice similarities between manga panels is so exciting. Gege even made a note that he asked for permission before drawing - I think it was the Uzumaki CT - So we know he's a big fan of Junji Ito. And it seems like there is a rly good chance No Longer Human inspired him as well (though I feel like characters with similar traumas having similar reactions is inevitable to some extent, if they're written in a believable way, it should be clearer when I'm reading both stories in the same format) based on the stories he has officially referenced.

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open. 

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting  you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.” 

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice. 

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” 

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.     

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction. 

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.” 

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift. 

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.” 

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously.  He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too.  You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[desceros]

I no longer feel bad about asking about blurple villian might I ask some very pointed questions about Donnie’s side of the relationship for playlist purposes?

So what I’m hearing is it takes DonBon a little longer to um… get his ball rolling. So to speak. How many fights do he and Lamb Chan get into over Leo and does Leo know about it/rub it in Donnie’s face?

Gbs input would be appreciated as well (now when I reblog blurple villian stuff I wait a bit to make sure you two aren’t still going back and forth on the post lol)

never ever ever feel bad for blurple villain au posting

i think donnie and lamb-chan actually... don't really fight that much usually? not in the traditional sense. for the most part you're just like. oh donnie says that this is the best way to do things, so i'm going to trust that and do it. and if you say you want something, donnie usually is like ok well here you go. it's just very. easy. being with donnie. there's no real friction or fighting that ends up happening.

...except when it comes to leo.

ohhh man. you are stubborn as fuck about leo, and it makes donnie's teeth fucking paste with how hard he grinds them on this. he tries everything. talking to you. grabbing your arms and shaking you. a very memorable powerpoint presentation with diagrams and pictures. he puts a tracker on your coat that starts making an obnoxious beep when you get too close to leo's apartment, so you just take it off and leave it on a dumpster until you come back by.

(he promptly takes it off, because the thought of you out there, cold, is maybe worse than the thought of you being with that fucker. also bc leo snapped at him about it, genuinely angry, saying he'd had to warm you up bc your teeth were chattering, and knowing that leo put his fucking hands on you—that leo was right about how he'd hurt you—yeah. no more beeping trackers.)

leo, of course, absolutely loves this. i can just see him hiding in the fire escapes, watching over you on your way to his apartment with donnie trailing behind. you're ignoring him, nose in the air, as he tells you all the reasons that this is stupid, that leo is toxic, that you're better off staying in the lair. when he makes the mistake of insinuating that leo would hurt you, that's when you stop and wheel around, getting a little nasty right back in his face. leo has never once hurt you—not in a way you didn't ask for—and insinuating otherwise won't stand.

taking this moment to be the perfect little shit, leo jumps down and comes up behind you, pulling you close and sending his brother a smug smile. making matters worse, you grab leo's hand and pull him along behind you, leaving donnie behind with the sight of your stiff spine and leo's infuriating smirk. he goads the two of you on, wanting you to fight, hoping to push you away from donnie and closer to him.

...but, equally, i think your fights—as hot as they burn when they happen—are very, very quick to boil away. they never last more than a few hours before you're coming back together, apologizing, the two of you snuggling close and letting the gravity between you come to head. he hates making you angry, he really hates making you cry; you hate making him angry, you really hate making him sad.

once you start hooking up w donnie, this gets even more pronounced. i imagine you're very, very careful not to get into fights with donnie, giving him one or two more warnings that you're getting pissed when he starts sniping about leo. hence why the whole 'being little shits behind your back' thing starts happening. (because you are also very quick to defend donnie to leo, and your fuse on people saying shit about him is very, very, very short.)

@gbao3 tag youre it

[fahbev]

Hi! Saw you jumped on the tim hate train, welcome to the club! Aplarently you're Damian fan, which is good bc hes also one of the characters who's hit by tim's..woobification? Victimization(???) while simultaneously being the bestest, most competent batfam member. You Damian fans honestly have my respect for the pure amount of shit Damian gets because of tim.

hi lmao. Thanks xD. I usually try to keep all my negativity off of the internet, but last night I was going the anti Tim drake tag bc my frustration was flaring up. At first i was collecting posts by liking them instead of rb, then I was replying, and then at some point... “Fuck it. I want this on my blog.”

(This is gonna be a ramble btw, I don’t care abt making a good post rn.)

I used to be fine with Tim! I think the whole thing was a lot less prominent in the dpxdc fandom bc DANNY was the fan favorite/community elected woobie, but then I kinda moved out and... well. It still took awhile for this issue to seep in bc those Tim fans (you know the ones) are certainly a minority, but I just don’t think you can be a Damian fan for longer than a few months without getting frustrated.

Nowadays I refuse to read anything tagged with any variation of “Tim Drake angst” that features the batfam. Timkon fics are usually just fine though.

Actually— recently? Shit’s been bothering me so bad that I don’t wanna risk reading fics that have Tim in the first relationship tag at all. He’s gotta at most be in the second one. Ship fics are again an exception, but I don’t tend to seek out ship fics much anyway.

But, like I said, I usually keep it to myself. Every time i catch myself venting in the tags I either screenshot the tags and delete, or I delete and retype them. I put them into a private notes document. I also journal in there a lot instead of posting it.

That document is pretty long.

I do wanna say that there’s nothing wrong with what tim fans are doing. It is fun to woobify your fave. It’s fun to prop them up and tear others down and make everything about your blorbo and it is harmless. I do it too (usually in my daydreams). It’s a fantasy, and that’s what fanfiction is for. People who act like it’s “problematic” are wrong. That doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Because it is. It’s annoying as all fuck.

Also wanna mention that I once read a damian fic that like... started off with some delicious whump, but then it turned into a whole Damian pity party and it guilt tripped all his friends and family. Damian IS my blorbo and I couldn’t read that. I didn’t even know who Maps was at the time but it seemed so bizarre to throw her under the bus. Anyway I feel like that’s what a quite large portion of Tim fic is like except a bit less extreme.

I used to tell myself that “ohhh it’s just a rivalry. I’m sure Tim fans get the same shit in reverse all the time” but I literally NEVER see it in the other direction and spend the most of my time in Damian circles. The only time I see tim hate from damian fans is frustration at those particular fans in response to it or in response to favoritism of authors.

I mean i saw a good chunk of it last night, but what else can I expect from the anti tim drake tag?

It’s actually funny how most of the stuff in anti tags is polarized hate shitting on the character with a lot of bad takes, but in tims anti tag it was almost exclusively frustration from Damian and Jason fans, and usually pretty mild takes. Also people calling Tim boring.

Ngl, Idk much about Jason. I’m familiar with his fanon, but the only comic i’ve read that featured him in a major way was Gotham War. I don’t know him well, and I don’t have too much interest in him. However, I hate “Jason falls over in guilt and kisses Tim’s fingers begging for forgiveness” type posts in solidarity. It’s yucky.

Anyway, I didn’t even mean to get on this anti tim train you speak of, It just sorta leaked out of my vent doc. Don’t expect me to keep posting about it.

but also... don’t not expect it. It might happen.

Even so, my dms are absolutely open for Timothy Drake related frustration! I’m pretty tired of being nice to him.

[celestie0]

hi, love! how are you today? are you doing well? is work treating you good?

i hope you are doing well! flowers 💐 for my favourite girlie ✨

also have you got any tips for new writers? like i’ve been tryna write this fanfic but i cannot really understand how to keep it flowing without forcing it out, and i’m hoping you can help us out. its absolutely fine if you’re busy or cannot for any reason. no pressure truly🥹

🫶💌

hellooo i’m doing well thank you 🥺💕 work is well i just got home, its rainy where i live so i made some hot cocoa and im just in bed now. i hope you’re feeling better i know you said you were sick <3 🌤️🌤️ some sunshine for you!

ohhh to be asked for writers tips is so flattering! i tried to think of my top few, and i have them below the read line :”) hope they help in some way and if you do end up posting your works don’t hesitate to tag me i would love to read them <3

my writing tips ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

dialogue. this one is toughhh bc i feel like a lot can ride on dialogue. my biggest tip for dialogue would be to just write all of your dialogue for a scene completely stripped down. none of the “he says” & “she says” or action verbs inbetween, just write it all out like it was a simple text convo w quotation marks. that way the words will sound realistic because you’re only picturing a convo in your head, rather than also trying to juggle all the descriptive prose. after you’ve got the dialogue, then you can go back in to fluff things up. if it’s meant to be comedic or a fast-paced argument, i think keeping it relatively stripped down is the way to go, but if it’s something intense or suspenseful then fluffing it up may be the better choice. also, i find dialogue becomes easier the more you write for a specific character, so if it’s not flowing right away, don’t worry!! their words will find you eventually once you get to know the character better :)

on choosing conflicts. this can be harddd because sometimes you just want the story to exist in happy land haha. but just like you said so beautifully in the sweet kickoff ch8 review you gave me, characters won’t always act perfect, but i think a great way to make conflict seem realistic is for them to act in character but with flaws, rather than just randomly out of character with flaws. maybe make a list of what that character’s good qualities and how those qualities could also work against them, and use the latter to brainstorm realistic conflict that those qualities could put them in (ex: a character is self-sufficient, but that causes them to rely on ppl less when they need it -> they fail to reach out for help in timely manners and leads to mistakes/regrets)

pacing. the biggessstt most important thing in my opinion for writing i believe is nailing the pacing. especially for fanfiction where people may be more interested in specific niche scenes rather than all of the stuff built around it. when starting off a story, don’t be afraid to just jump straight into it! or jump straight into the dialogue and then build the scene gradually as it progresses, rather than [gigantic block of text in beginning of scene that reader must drag their eyes through] and then get to the dialogue (im sooo bad w this myself lmao i fluff things up too much). in a world where attention spans are decreasing (rip), a lot of the times less is more. make sure the pacing fits the scene (romantic -> longer paragraphs more focused on subtle details, comical -> short paragraphs w simple n relatable diction, etc)

creating characters. with fanfiction this can be easy since you already have fleshed out characters from shows/books to work off of, but a good way to characterize is to just include little details that give them personality! not only is it a way to allow the reader to resonate with the character, but also it gives other characters in the story an opportunity to notice those lil quirks and create bonds over them as well. i just picture my friends or family in my head, the things i love about them, and incorporate it (i know nothing about film photography but my friend is a film major n thats where i got the idea for mc in kickoff)

for tone and mood. i think to get words flowing for different scenes, it can be really useful to get into the environment of those scenes while you’re writing, such as listening to a song that fits the vibe of the scene prior to/during writing (i blasted tgif by katy perry while writing the party scenes in ch6 of kickoff lol), or if its a scene at night, write it w the lights off, or watch a youtube vid w scenery that matches. may sound silly, but it could help! if i write something angsty in a really bright sunshine environment it’s hard for me to get the words

read more. this is sort of a miscellaneous one but a good way to subconsciously get better at writing is to just read more! your brain kinda learns how to write on its own when you read. also, when i’m reading, if i see words i really like i jot them down in my notes app so i have my own lil vocabulary of words that i know i would like to use in my writing

on writing insecurities. be proud of your writing!! your first draft does NOT have to be perfect. some days the words will flow, but on some they won’t, and that’s okay. don’t get too into your head about “i wonder what readers will think of this plot point or this character action” etc, i think having faith in your own process but also in your readers will bring you a lot of peace as you write :) create what you want to create and the rest will follow!! when i first started posting kickoff i was overthinking sooo many things that ended up being received just fine by readers in the end, so just stick to your plan 🫶🏼💕

use chatgpt. looool ai can be useful in writing too! i usually only use it after i'm completed with a draft, and i just plug select paragraphs into it to see if it can come up with some better words for me to use. it's also useful to come up with logistical details for aspects of your stories for world-building etc (no clue anything ab professional collegiate soccer games i've never been to one but i used chatgpt to come up with the scenes)

woooow i wrote way more than i thought i would haha but i hope this helps!! ive never given tips before so idk if these only make sense to me 💀 but hopefully they can be applied to what you’re looking to write as well :)

[la-principessa-nuova]

So, uhhhh… this post started as a fun little post about all the progress i made in a year and then i like unlocked a bunch of memories of how bad it actually was, and…

yeah, this is extremely heavy stuff. i’ve added some tags for trigger/content warnings, let me know if you think I should add others.

and I’m putting it below a fold.

it’s so weird that like this time last year:

i felt stuck in a job i hated

i was scrolling through dating apps listed as a cis guy feeling like i could never be the guy any of them wanted and none of them were who i wanted either when i really thought about the dynamics of a relationship longterm

i was starting to watch some stuff about trans people with this feeling like 😬 if anyone sees i’m watching this need to have an excuse bc nobody knows i’ve had these thoughts for all these years

i’d occasionally stop and consider whether it’s possible i’m a woman or if i’m nonbinary but always concluded that it made no sense for me to transition even though I’m 100% definitely not a man

no friends i was actively talking to online of offline

very depressed

the heaviest i’ve ever been and feeling awful about it, knowing i have medical issues from it that i feel guilty about not taking seriously

my grandfather who i’d been regularly going to see for a while had just died

my other grandfather’s dementia was just starting to get really bad

the only joy i really had was disconnecting from my own thoughts by binge watching the existing seasons of dimension 20

idk how much detail i want to get into but like very dark thoughts about like what if this horrible thing happened and then i had an excuse to just start over in another state with a new life and not feel guilty about leaving people behind

the only way i did not slip into alcoholism is the fact that i don’t drink so that first step to start was a big enough barrier to stop me. most nights i looked at the drawer of alcoholic drinks left over from the last family gathering i hosted and thought about opening it up.

i had kitkats that technically have a very small amount of alcohol in them and kept just eating a lot of them as like a proxy for actual drinking that luckily wouldn’t have any actual effect

i had always felt immune from suicidal ideation because just the way I view emotions and things just doesn’t make it seem like it would ever be what I’d choose, even in an extreme situation, but I could definitely feel some gears starting to click into place like, “Ohhh, this is how I’d justify it to myself. This is what it would take for me to get there.”

frequently just thinking around the subject of it and then just laying down in bed and crying and watching stand up comedy on YouTube to distract myself

Well, that got way darker than I had initially remembered it. But the good news is I’m in a much better place. Still very much a work in progress but:

Back to my previous job that is completely fine and I sometimes even get a little excited about

Kind of given up on dating for now while I work on myself but like amenable to the idea of especially a long distance relationship, and now I get what i want in a relationship because I understand the inherently queer nature of it

I’m no longer kidding myself about being trans. I don’t have all the answers, but I know where I’m at and I’m over 4 months on HRT now and I think just about reaching cis ranges for estrogen and testosterone? (I was getting close at my 3 month checkup)

I have so many new friends online and just met one in person for the first time!

lost a good amount of weight and continuing to do so for health reasons, but also feeling much better about it now that I understand how much of what I thought was insecurity about my weight was gender dysphoria I was misplacing

my grandfather is still dead and the other one is still declining cognitively, so unfortunately no change there but the initial sting is over

struggling to even keep up to date with D20, but kind of in a good way because back then I had to watch it because I couldn’t sit with my thoughts and needed it as a proxy for human connection.

and everything else there I completely forgot was going on until I typed it up just now!

now i need to go get ready for therapy and have lunch 😊

[some-thrilling-heroics]

5, 15, and 25 for the asks

ohhh thank you! 😳😁

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I am a big tagger, I love going through ao3 post searching for tags that might apply before i even finish the fic to post. i discovered some wild tags out there XD and i love having all important beats and emotional things reflected in the tags.

one thing i was a bit conflicted abt my latest work was if to tag it with 'child murder' or sth when it wasn't actually real and permanent? i left a warning in the notes tho and tbh kinda... forgot abt the whole thing myself lol (now i kinda feel i maybe should have tagged it but those who need warning can still see the note so 🤷‍♀️)

TL;DR: the tag i would never want to use would be something i would not want to write about in the first place. give me all the tags!

15. What's your favourite plotless fic you have written?

ohhh 🤔i think all my fics have some kind of plot. the one i can think of that's just character coming in thru the door and sobbing his heart out with zero explanation anywhere in the text is Make it Better (Magnus & Raphael, sh). that's an oldie.

25. Is writing the whole thing beforehand better or worse than writing it as you go?

i tried writing and posting as i go but that's not working for me. at least not for anything bigger than 10k maybe (Expectations was sort of spur of the moment bc i wanted to post something for a Wyll event, wrote chapter 1 in one evening and the entire thing in a week, but it's a short simple thing)

i often have a lot of regrets with fics like that bc after posting or midway thru the story i think of something that could have been added as a foreshadowing or to slowly gradually build a theme over a longer span, or anything like that, that if i have entire thing to work on is just so much easier to build it up and up and.... aaaand that's how I end up with longer and longer fics that run away from me *eyeroll* but ya, i LOVE writing scenes out of order, and rearranging them to fit better and make a coherent narrative, bc apparently when i write i even have to reorder sentences in a paragraph to make it flow logically from A to B.

[s0up1ta]

Ok I am going to be very insane about them and your designs for them for a second category 5 moment coming up I'm very sorry

BUT OHHH MY FUCKGIGN GOD THATS EXACTLY HOW I PICTURE THEM THOSE DESIGNS ARE SO GODDAMN SPOT ON AND PERFECT!!!!! PETERS HAIRCUT AND FRECKLES, RUMIS HORNS BEING MADE OUT OF THE CRYSTALS THAT REFRACT THE LIGHT AND ARE COLORED BLUE AND PURPLEE AHDNDB FUCJGJISHGIDHSIHRISHROSHRIEHDK!! ‼️‼️ AND RUMI'S JACKET THING MEANS THE WORLD TO ME GOD JUST THEM IN YOUR STYLE <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 ohhHHH ANDDD THE OPENINGS ON THE SIDE OF THEIR TIGHT UNDERSHIRT-THINGY SHOWING THEIR SKIN WITH THE GOLD PLATESSS IM GOING FERAL!!!! PETERS VEST IS PERFECT TOO LIKE IM ACTUALLY SO INSANE ABOUT THIS YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND MAN. YOURE SO FUCKING TALENTED BTW HAVE I EVER MENTIONED THAT BECAUSE I NEED TO MENTION THAT. FUCK!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!

Also I know its a part of Rumi's official design but I actually really really love the openings on the sides of rumi's clothes because I hc healing magic in a really specific way. Like to cast it you have to physically lay your hands on the person, but it doesn't have to be on the injury, just the person. So you could hold their hand and cast it (which is what Rumi does for Peter, they hold his hand or cup his face ((very lovingly)) WOAGH who said that anyway) and it would work the same as touching any other part of their skin; BUT!! you can't cast it through clothes. So when Peter goes to heal Rumi he would put his hands on their hip openings and cast his magic then.

I'm pretty sure that exandroth is the one who can cast healing magic?? But I'm going to pretend both of them can after Peter figures out the low level magic :3

So if it was pre-biblically-accurate-androgynous-sex, then Peter would typically hold their hand or touch their neck or something and Rumi would grab his hands and bring them to their hips because there's more skin to touch, meaning more room to cast. And then the biblically-accurate-androgynous-sex made Peter feel much more confident in a lot of different ways, but also much more confident when it came to Rumi, so post-biblically-accurate-androgynous-sex he would do it without hesitation :]

This also goes the same in reverse, Rumi would just hold his hand to heal him after a battle, (andddd maayybbeee the hand-holding lasted a little longer than the time it took to cast a healing spell because they just wanted to hold hands) but after their night together it became much more common for Rumi to lift Peter's shirt up to look at the injury and heal it directly or cup his face in their hands and heal him that way.

ANYWAYY!! SORRY FOR THE RANT ABOUT MAGIC FOR SOME REASON IN YOUR INBOX AND THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME IN YOUR DESIGNS BECAUSE YOURE A FUCKING AWESOME ARTIST AND I ADORE YOUR STYLE!!!!!!! see ya ✌️

I AUSGHSHDUSGUSHDHHDGDHHS

IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

THIS IS LITERALLY CANON YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME THAT PEOPLE LIKE MY DESIGNS AUGDHFHJDBF

im a very much visual person when it comes to brainrotting so i cant put into words how much i agree with everything you just said so just know that UAGSHDHUDHSJBFJDBFJDJBD

((drawing ideas perhaps 👁️👁️) what was that i didnt say anything

[e77y]

Long but relatively unserious vent/rant below the cut (sorry I added this in bc I realized how long this post is oops)

Being at the center of some kind of internet witchhunt (which ik is kind of buzzwordy but) is literally my biggest fear ohhh my god. Even a small scale one… I think I would Die. Maybe it’s because I had a similar thing happen with my friend group in high school where one of them convinced the others I was like evil and spread all these rumors about me… 😭 He was splitting on me but still. That’s an explanation, not an excuse. And it basically confirmed all of my intrusive thoughts about myself, and my personality completely self-destructed and changed, and I haven’t interacted with any of those people the same way since. I isolated from them for MONTHS and just loathed myself. Bleh

The reason it’s on my mind is bc I’ve seen this happen to friends and mutuals and even just people I’ve followed in small fandoms, where the whole fandom hates them bc of this little drama and like. I KNOW that fandom drama is not the end of the world, but truly I think that would destroy me for months. And I would never be able to set foot in those spaces again :’) Getting a handful of rude comments about a fucking transfem hc I had at like 14 made me stop writing fanfic for YEARS 😭😭😭 sigh. Just bc they said it was ‘out of character for him to want to be a girl’ 🙄 (<- character who canonically felt confident when dressed as a woman btw. initially for a disguise but then she grew to love it. BUT I DIGRESS KNSHFJW)

All this to say I think that’s why I tiptoe around everything I say online… I am SO scared of ruffling feathers, but I know that fandoms are places for like! Having fun! And it’s not a big deal! And it doesn’t affect my real life! But like idk.. I just hate the idea of being hated by anyone. I’m sure that I ANNOY some people, and that’s whatever; I talk a lot and make overly personal posts sometimes (like this lol) but I don’t wanna be HATED yk? And idek if it’s better to be hated and ostracized publicly or resented in secret by people who still interact with you… :( Agh. If you ever have an issue with me, please DM me instead of letting it build up into something worse!

ANYWAY LIKE.. with fandom stuff. Idk. I want to have fun! I want to write and post things on Tumblr and AO3 etc but I am just very scared of peoples’ opinions, especially now that I have a decently popular/well-liked longfic in DnDads. For some reason I have convinced myself that writing bad or self-indulgent NSFW will make everyone hate me lmao. Like girl the POINT of fanfic is to be self-indulgent……….. sigh I need to get out more

^ light-hearted… but also kinda true haha. I stay at home a lot just bc I don’t have many reasons to go out atm and only a handful of close friends to go out with. Hopefully that will change when I move next semester lol. And whenever I get interests, they’re VERY strong and long-lasting, and fanfic writing is one of my main hobbies, so I get REALLY into online communities. And rn that is kind of my little niche fandom Tumblr bubble… which is embarrassing and probably unhealthy but whatever. I just inevitably get a lot of anxiety about things that are important/fun to me (bc OCD), especially bc I’ve never really had mutuals/‘friends’ in a fandom before this, excluding my irls

Anyway this got longer and more vent-y than I intended so I will tag accordingly, and sorry to whoever is reading this lol; I just wanted to get my thoughts written down in a public forum bc idk… Makes me feel less insane when ik other people can see it, too. Helps me not take it too seriously and spiral lol.

[callsignspark]

Mar(r)y Me - part two teaser

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food. Part of the Dagger, Sword & Shield universe.

warnings: This series is 18+ (minors DNI) for the mature themes and adult language.

Here’s an (unedited) sneak peek of part two! Complete version of part two coming later this week!

“Can we eat now? I’m tired of waiting for the chicken man!”

“Hangman, he’s five minutes late, and if you keep whining like a baby, you will be the last in line for food.” Mary’s hand shoots across the island, slapping the blonde’s hand away from the food. “Don’t even fucking think about it! Go sit in the living room!”

“Ow! I liked you better when you were too shy to yell at us.” He sulks into the next room, holding his hand to his chest. Only his ego is bruised, but Mary can hear him looking for sympathy from his best friend, giggling when she hears Coyote’s less-than-loving response.

“What’re you laughing at?”

“Oh my god!” She whips around, hand flying to her chest in a futile attempt to slow her heart. “Bradley! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Sorry, Miss Mary, didn’t mean to scare ya.” The smirk on his face contradicting his apology.

She narrows her eyes. “Oh, you find this funny, bird boy? Hey, Hangman?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You’re no longer at the back of the line for food! Rooster will be taking that spot from you.”

A celebratory shout comes from the living room while Bradley protests, “That’s not fair!”

“Guess you shouldn’t have laughed at me. Okay! Come get food while it’s still hot!” She’s almost bulldozed by the herd of hungry aviators storming their way into the kitchen. Bradley pulling her out of the way of Harvard and Fritz playfighting to be first in line.

“Careful, wouldn't want you to catch an elbow with that cute lil nose of yours.” His thick arm wrapped around her waist, and the way he has to bend down to talk into her ear gets her heart pumping. She feels small next to him; she never feels small. Mary pats his arm in thanks before wiggling away to establish order of the dinner buffet she laid out in the Fitches’ kitchen, her face feeling as hot as the sausage she’d cooked up.

Ohhh!!!! We’re meeting Bradley! Who’s excited?? I know I am! I’ll be announcing posting info for the full version of part two as soon as I know them! (Probably sometime this weekend!) If you’d like to be tagged please send an ask!

tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse | @bobfloyds | @hangmanbrainrot | @notroosterbradshaw | @princessphilly | @rhettabbotts | @roleycoleyreccenter | @roosterbruiser | @seresinsweetie | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @waklman | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

fic tag | main masterlist | credit for dividers here

[m0e-ru]

👀👀 also i just want to say thank you! i really got into P4 this year and finding your work only amplified my love for it. mim became like my 2nd favorite character all because of you also the stage play it really lives in my head rent free. i love your art and writings, your work has turned a special interest into an even more special one.

hi yeah I read this morning I was tearing up a bit sorrry for being an emotional baby I dont get love letters often maybe thats why im full of love . in exchange. thank yo thankyou for all the nice words it means a lot. here’s A LOT in return. with commentary because it um. was too much for the tags

okay this one was one of the drafts for my 3/20 art this year there was like. four drafts till i settled on this one then went SIKE 🏌️🏌️🏌️ you're doing the dual type ones ( the magazine ones i ended up posting )

MIDNIGHT TV STATION REAL !??? anyway here’s just shadow yukiko and iznmi interaction it’s not finished since there’s no backgrounds yet I swear there are. I did this alll the way back in feb I think and just kept polishing it bit by bit throuhgout the year and it’s STILL not done yet. the horrors came in I couldnt work on bigger pieces anymore since they wouldnt even get FINISHED anyway 💥💥💥 there’s also a s.kanji one but those are a bunch of blobs and text in shorthand mim is such a jokester asking questions n shit to twist people’s heads but yukiko’s just so sweet she really means what she says yknow like this is supposed to be the start of mim remembering what humanity is besides the mindless and selfish desires that technically gave birth to them after tearing them apart from the whole they once were. the LAST few TV stations these women were asking shit like ohhh can we hang a noose here ohhhhhhhh I want it to smell like liquor and rust and this girl was like can I have a castle !!!! can I wear a big pink frilly dress and hold a mic to push my human self’s buttons I think it could work

yeah these are my plans for the m.inaba arc for gsaslau and FUCK IM SO MAD I WAS WRITING ON THE TUMBLR EDITOR BUT IT FUCKED UP THE FORMATTING AND A WHOLE CHUNK OF TEXT IS GONE sorry this post is gonna be a lot longer than it should be okay ! gsaslau Magatsu Inaba arc. Adachi’s besties with the attendant but Mim decides they’re done with the attendant facade and erases everyone’s memories of the guy. They did a bad job at it though so Adachi’s stuck with the awareness that he has a hole in his life that could’ve been avoided if someone did a better job at cleaning up everything that reminds him of memories he’s going insane over thinking they exist when they DON’T to literally everyone else. He makes a deal with the fog to be god’s prohpet and usher in the New World as its Fool so it gives him the answer to whether or not his memories are real and worth bringing back a guy he thinks is dead. Souji tries to stop him and as much as Adachi’s trying to hide his true intentions under the guise he’s justifying himself as a bad guy this whole time, he kinda snaps under pressure that a bunch of kids are being able to stop him despite the help of a god and a world he can manipulate. Mim’s plan was to wait for his Shadow to take over so his body’s properties would be enough for him to become a vessel to manifest Ame-no-Sagiri. But THAT doesn’t happen so they did plan B: go force the power of Persona and wear it like a costume enough to hide their face to stop further awakening more memories that could throw the whole deal off. Souji recognizes that it isn’t the power of Persona so he demands god to stop using their powers through a human just to hide from something, it’s putting the guy in enough pain already. Mim agrees to leave and Adachi’s Shadow finally takes over anddd and yeah I could make a separate post about my writing I wish I had more time and energy for things

okay this one looks simple it’s likeee a manga that was supposed to be a companion piece to some writing that also didn’t get finished. so. I could share that but they’re non proofread discord messages but I promise the draft is there the context is that they’re in Okina and they try out the gacha machines. Mim’s genuinely having fun but they pull a teru teru bozu which um. remind them they’re supposed to dutiful god. like they look like a teru teru bozu. and that they’re supposed to treat this as an experiment to see humans’ true desires so they just shove it to Adachi who harmlessly relates it to them because it honestly looks stupid annd the whole tension dissipates.

here's also a bit of writing alll the way back in feb. i guess the context would be episode 13 and 14 where nanako leaves her loveline umbrella with the fox except this time she doesnt get wet since she had a pit stop at the gas station yaayy :mimyay:

The little girl left her umbrella by the torii with the fox as a gesture of her kind heart. Then she hugged the plastic bag in her arms and began to run straight home.

The rain was pouring hard! The summer wasn't as kind as her, nor would the crashing showers that would come after days of blazing heat.

Every step she took quickly became squickly and soggy as her shoes and socks were already soaked through. Her pigtails were getting heavy and her bangs almost covered her eyes. Just then, she heard a voice in the rain. But before she could look, she slipped forward.

"Ah!" Nanako gasped as she let go of the bag and braced for impact, but heard another "ah-h!" as she was quickly hoisted up with an arm wrapped around her chest, picking her up and felt another arm underneath support her. Her chin now on broad red shoulders that smelled faintly of car exhaust and gas amidst the rain.

The splashing of shoes on the wet pavement along with the crinkling sounds of a plastic bag was heard. Nanako was more worried of whose perfectly dry clothes she drenched with her sopping wet ones.

"You okay, little kiddo?" a familiar voice asked as she was gently set down on dry concrete away from the rain.

"I'm okay," she said, wiping her bangs and looking straight at the stranger in front of her.

It was Moel's gas station attendant, the one Souji works with. "Ah, you're big bro's big b--" she quickly shook her head, "I-I mean, big bro's senpai."

"Heh," the crouched man laughed weakly, it even seemed like he forced that smirk. "I work here too, y'know? Little customer."

"Oh, I'm sorry. And thank you, mister attendant."

"You're welcome, and don't worry about it. 'S not like I'm too mad about it."

An awkward air accompanied the scents of lingering exhaust from the last car and the petrichor from the rain. Although Nanako didn't feel any of this, just to say. It's always been like this with big bro’s senpai, at least how it's been with just Nanako herself. Like right now.

The man continued to crouch and adjust his hat. "Well, you're a silly girl. Why's someone with flowers all over her papers running around in the rain?"

Dunno how long, but I hope you haven't been running around like this for too long. I know you live nearby but your big bro's gonna have to take care of you if you get sick!--I mean, he'll always take care of you. He's a good kid.

If you were out long, I'm impressed how much of this you kept dry! …Just hoped you could've done the same for yourself, hehe.

Ah, but knowledge's different than wisdom, or whatever mister detective said. Hm, he even said I had neither! Maybe that's why I didn't know?

Uh…well….the fox by the shrine…. it was getting wet, so I…

Hm…

Heh, 'can see how you and that kiddo really are alike, little kiddo.

and SURPRISE !!! i found this lying around i thoughtt id add it here because youre so nice and it's so lovely to see you in my notifs all the time THIS IS A JUMPSCARE FOR EVERYONE ELSE sorrryyyy sorry