#people have had nearly a decade to build up expectations

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 7

Part 6

The door Sam knocks on is in a much nicer building than she expected.

She and Tucker are visiting Danny for dinner - and boy did they both nearly burst with excitement when he shyly extended the invitation - and frankly Sam had expected an apartment building in the Narrows or Park Row.

Danny was a teenage runaway less than a decade ago, for God's sake. Forgive her and Tucker for assuming he'd still be getting his feet under him and scraping by.

This? This is not that.

Sam has half a mind to think Danny is sugaring. He certainly wouldn't have any trouble - the Danny that disappeared from Amity was cute, but small and awkward in that teenage way. The grown up Danny they've been reconnecting with? He's tall, lean and positively gorgeous.

She wouldn't have a problem with that, per say. But the Danny they knew was also too nice for his own good and starved for positive attention. If someone was taking advantage of that Sam would kill them. 

Separation did not quell her instinct to wrap Danny up and protect him from the world, it would seem.

There's a slight commotion after the knock before Danny himself is yanking the door open with a grin that's happy and nervous at the same time.

“Guys! Hey! Come in!”

He ushers them inside with all the energy of an overgrown puppy, something that hasn't changed one bit since they were kids.

Sam shivers a little as they enter, assuming there's an AC unit blowing over the entryway at first. She smiles at Danny's back as he babbles at them.

“I kind of lost track of time, so food isn't actually ready yet, but then I thought - hey! Who cares! We can cook together and it'll be fun! I got all vegan stuff too so we can make a meaty pizza for Tuck and a different one for you, Sam-”

The apartment they walk into is a spacious open floor plan, furniture in blacks and grays. She shivers again. Seriously-

“Your AC on the fritz or something?” Tucker asks, rubbing his arms a little. “It's like fifty degrees in here, man.”

Danny freezes for a second on his way to the kitchen space before turning around and beelining for a wall - the thermostat.

“Shit, sorry! Sit, sit! I knew I was forgetting something,” he grumbles as he flaps a hand towards the black bar stools at the kitchen island and fiddles with the thermostat. “I like the cold, I always have it too low for most people in here. Sorry about that, it'll get better soon.”

Sam and Tucker exchange bewildered looks as they sit at the kitchen island. There's liking it cool, and there's fucking freezing.

“Guess I don't have to ask your favorite season,” Tucker jokes, and Danny offers him an apologetic grin as he lopes back over.

“Yeah, probably a safe guess,” he chuckles on his way to the fridge. “You guys want drinks? I have a homemade sangria if you want. Beer, wine, you name it.”

Tucker opts for a beer. Sam asks for the homemade sangria, curious. Danny pours two glasses and takes an ice cube tray out to pop a couple of ice cubes in.

When the glass is set in front of her - “they're the stemless kind you can't knock over. Cool, right? Look at ‘em wobble, they're just little guys.” - she raises an eyebrow.

The ice cubes are in the shape of little ghosts. Tucker snorts when he sees them, taking the bottle opener Danny offers for his beer.

“Ghosts? Really?”

Danny blinks like he'd forgotten he had a novelty ice cube tray, then grins and shrugs.

“I mean. What else is being from Amity good for if not inside jokes?”

He turns away before she can respond with any form of bewilderment - Danny had been known for disappearing during ghost fights, after all. He was terrified of them. She hadn't expected him to want any reminders of ghosts or his ghost hunter parents.

Sorry - Jack and Maddie.

With two resounding thunks, Danny slaps store bought dough onto his nice dark counters. He at least remembered to leave them out to rise. 

“Alright! While I roll this out, it's time to pick your toppings lady and gent - go wild, go ham. Let me show you my selection.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out meats and veggies and cheeses abound. Sam notes vegan cheese alternatives in the mix with a warm fondness in her chest. She's stricter about being vegetarian than vegan, but the fact that Danny went that extra little mile? 

Yeah. Yeah, this is still her boy. She missed having two of them. She and Tuck were never meant to be without a Danny, and she can see on Tucker's face that he feels the same way.

Smiling and standing to start looking through the options, Sam sips her sangria. 

It’s delicious, and the little ghost ice cubes smile back up at her like they're as glad as she is to be here.

Masterpost

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #25

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Family Reunion

Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.

Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.

He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.

He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.

He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.

He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"

"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."

"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"

Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.

Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.

The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.

Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.

He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.

He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.

✦

(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!

(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.

[fancyfeathers]

Hope this gives your muscles a bit of a working.

Yandere! Capilano who clings to a songbird that has come and gone in his existence. A witch, an elf who met Capitano at a festival before Khaneri'ah fell. A storyteller who was there to see the event.

She who popped up every few decades in his travels, a familiarity untainted by the event. A light.

This just gives me Alice and Andersdotter vibes, Klee’s mom and one of the creators of Simulanka, so Hexenzirkel darling anyone?

She was probably friends with Rhinedottir when Khaneri’ah fell, the two of them perhaps being the oldest out of the entire the entire Hexenzirkel, being alive long before it was even formed. Which is how they met, when she was visiting her dearest alchemist friend when a celebration arose in Khaneri’ah. Then certainly at that time the Captain would have been a sight to behold, a knight in shining armor, a rather odd pairing since the knight normally falls for the princess and not the witch, but she felt far from a witch in how she acted. She was not from or lived in Khaneri’ah but still managed to get everyone to warm up to her in a matter of moments, dancing with the children, making flowers out of thin air for a young man to give to a young lady he was in love with, helping a baby fall asleep while chatting with the baby’s parents.

He just manages to catch her in conversation and the contrast between them is clear, the lover and the fighter, the witch and the knight. There is just a joy in her that he cannot understand where it comes from, just like a constantly burning fire. Sadly their meeting does not last long, cut off by catastrophe…

The years go by and he does not see her until nearly a century later, after he left Natlan for the first time, after the Fatui had formed, and after the rot had begun to set in. He was on a mission in the Nation of Freedom and it was there he was her again, sitting under a tree, having tea with a few of her friends. A few of them are familiar to him, well only her and Rhinedottir, but she looked as if she had not aged a day, well she certainly had a change in style with her clothing and perhaps her hair but that was it. Honestly he did not expect her to recognize him especially at the distance he was walking past, after all their first meeting was brief and his helmet hid his nearly unrecognizable face, but still somehow she knew it was him. She ran up and hugged him like he was an old friend and as if she never had a care in the world, his subordinates were certainly not pleased by this. He only gets to visit with her for a short time before having to leave once again to continue his mission but when he does there is just undeniable yearning building up in his chest.

Then years go by again and he finds out the group she was with was the coven known as the Hexenzirkel, a group of witches who had strength who could rival that of the gods. He finds this odd as he could never see her as strong in that sense, she seemed like she would never even hurt a fly. This fact bothers him out of his mind, he cannot comprehend it nor can he accept it as it feels it only pulls what he wants further and further out of his grasp so that he may never obtain it.

It is not until he encounters her in Natlan and she just watches as the bloodshed from the abyss happens once again and she does not even help and just watches. He feels betrayed, someone who was to kind and held so much power in their hands would just let this sort of thing happen.

He will bring her to her knees after it all, let her lay bleeding on the ground like those people she refused to help. Though unlike those people she will not allowed to die, her punishment will be having to live with the thought that she could have done something to save herself know as the Captain drags her along with him, trapped in his hold forever more.

[axeeglitter]

Melorius's shop: Fitting in

Felix adjusted his glasses and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as he stepped into the costume shop, his slender frame almost swallowed by the oversized hoodie he always wore. Standing just a bit shorter than average, his narrow shoulders and slight build made him easy to overlook, especially with his soft, bookish features and perpetually messy hair. His hands were long and fine, fingers ink-stained from hours of note-taking, and his skin was pale from too many nights spent studying instead of seeing the sun. With his hunched posture and timid gait, Felix looked every bit the shy, kind-hearted geek who’d rather be reading about heroes than pretending to be one.

Felix opened the door of the old looking Costume’s shop; a bell rang as the door opened and its sound echoed between the dusty racks of costumes. Costumes crowded every corner, piled high in stacks and hung on hooks from the ceiling, casting odd, twisting shadows. He adjusted his glasses, blinking in the dusty light as he took it all in. The place seemed nearly forgotten, like it had been waiting for decades just for him.

"Excuse me?" he called out softly, his voice echoing a bit. "I'm looking for…um…a Spiderman costume, or really any superhero costume."

From behind a counter lined with old-fashioned masks, an elderly man emerged, smiling a bit too widely. His eyes glinted, as if he found Felix’s presence amusing. "Ah, superheroes. Everyone wants to be one," he mused, studying Felix with a strange intensity. "But I’m afraid you're a bit late, young man. All the superheroes are gone."

“Oh.” Felix sighed, glancing around as he tugged at his collar, feeling the cool, almost expectant air of the shop pressing in on him. "Do you have anything else? Something…kind of low-key? Anything cool will be perfect to be honest."

The man tilted his head thoughtfully, then reached under the counter. After a moment, he pulled out a different outfit, holding it up. It was a football quarterback uniform, complete with shoulder pads, a helmet, and a jersey bearing the number 11 in bold, almost intimidating font.

Felix felt his heart sink. "Uh… I’m not really the football type," he began, unsure how to say no.

But the man only smiled. "Halloween is a night for trying new things, isn’t it? You might find this… transformative." With a small wink, he pressed the costume into Felix’s hands, gesturing toward the dressing room in the back.

Reluctantly, Felix took it. The fabric felt strange under his fingers, thicker and heavier than he’d expected. With a last look at the old man, who was watching him with that same enigmatic smile, Felix ducked into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. He really didn’t want to try it on, specially because at college, he was bullied by the football team, especially Josh, one of the biggest douchebag earths has ever worn. He was everything Felix hated. Big, muscled piled on muscles, obnoxious, fucking everything he could find and worst of all, forcing his best friend Nathan to do his homework and terrifying the shit out of him.

Felix hesitated, looking at himself in the mirror. His slight frame, glasses, and messy hair were the epitome of what people at his college would call "nerdy." This costume was everything he wasn’t and everything he despised. But not wanting to appear rude, he slipped the jersey over his head, adjusting it as it clung uncomfortably close to his skin. Oddly, it felt warm, almost like it was… alive.

As he finsihed putting on the quaterback equipment and tugged the fabric of the jersey over his torso, a sharp, sudden pain blossomed across his chest. He gasped, clutching at his sides as a strange pressure spread through him. His chest muscles contracted and expanded, stretching outward with a force he couldn't control. The flat, narrow lines of his torso swelled as new muscle filled every inch, his chest pushing outward in thick slabs of pecs that strained against the jersey. With each breath, his pecs grew denser, pressing forward until they filled the front of the jersey, hard and defined.

“What…what is happening?” he whispered, trying to pull the jersey off, but his arms wouldn’t obey. He was frozen, forced to watch as the transformation moved to his shoulders and arms.

Pain surged through his shoulders as they broadened, the pads pressing down on him, molding his frame into something bigger, stronger. His deltoids pushed outward, rounding out, followed by his biceps, which bulged, straining the fabric with their new mass. Thick veins appeared along his forearms, pulsing with a warmth that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His hands changed too, the fingers thickening, becoming rough and calloused, palms broadening until they looked like they belonged to someone who’d spent years gripping footballs rather than comic books.

Each new jolt of growth felt like a small explosion, his nerves alive with the prickling of muscle fiber expanding and hardening beneath his skin. His legs cramped next, a powerful spasm that had him doubling over as his thighs and calves swelled. Muscles he’d never known he had bulged out, pressing against the fabric until the pants were stretched taut over thick quads and hamstrings that filled out with each second. He staggered, watching his thighs widen, hard and massive, his calves now like solid trunks that seemed rooted to the floor.

Felix started to feel an odd sensation creeping under his soles. Suddenly, he felt like they began to burn as they expanded within the cleats he had just put on. His toes thickened, his arches lifted, his entire foot stretching and swelling until they filled the once-loose cleats perfectly, now large and sturdy, every step grounding him with an unfamiliar weight.

The changes weren’t just physical. A strange heat built up within him, simmering in his core, moving down to his groin with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He tried to fight it, his mind screaming for control, but his body surged ahead. His hips rolled slightly as his groin responded, thickening, growing, his manhood pressing uncomfortably against the waistband of his pants. He felt his shaft pulse and throb as it swelled, growing heavier, bigger, until it strained against the fabric, every inch filling him with an unsettling mix of power and shame. It was relentless, each throb amplifying the sensation, his groin now packed with a weight and presence that was almost dizzying. Even his balls grew, swelling until they hung heavily between his legs, pressing against his thighs, a constant reminder of the physicality that had taken over him.

As he looked down, horrified, he saw that his pubic area was now covered in a thick, wiry thatch of dark hair. Felix couldn’t even the skin under the hair anymore. Pure dark thick hair. It itched slightly, but there was no escaping the primal, raw feeling it gave him. His hands, now large and rough, instinctively went to adjust his groin, but he couldn’t control the action, it was like his body was reveling in its own size, flexing, posing.

His reflection sneered back at him, a cocky grin that made his skin crawl. His face had sharpened, his jawline strong and angular, his cheekbones high and defined. His eyes, once soft and shy, had become piercing, almost predatory. His hair had changed too, dark and thick, styled perfectly as though he’d just stepped out of a salon.

“Oh no… no, no, no…” he whispered, his voice deeper, resonant, filled with a confidence he didn’t feel. He tried to speak again, but it was like his voice had been absorbed, lost within the powerful timbre that echoed back at him.

Inside his mind, a voice spoke, smooth and arrogant, brimming with strength. “Looks like you’re ready to play, bro.”

“No! I’m not…I’m not…” he tried to say, but his own body laughed, a rich, self-assured chuckle that came from deep in his chest. It was like he was locked in a cage, forced to watch as his new form flexed and stretched, testing the limits of his newly thickened muscles. His hands slid over his chest, his abs, tracing the hard ridges of his pecs and torso in a way that horrified him. Every touch was a betrayal, each inch of him celebrating its own strength and virility.

And then, with a horrible clarity, he realized his surroundings had changed. The dusty walls of the dressing room had faded, replaced by the familiar, well-worn space of a college bedroom. Posters lined the walls, a football on the desk, the scent of cologne mingling with the faint smell of beer, feet and cum. His heart pounded as he saw the reflection of the street in the mirror in front of the bed. He knew this street, but from where? His body kept on flexing his biceps and posing while adjusting his python in his jeans. Suddenly Felix recognizes it, it was Josh’s Fraternity house. “God please, NOOOOOO…” he screamed internally as his body groped once again his thick semi hard dick pressed against his thighs.

The door burst open, and Josh strode in, grinning widely as he clapped him on the back. “Yo, Mike! You ready to tear it up tonight? Halloween bash is going to be insane! Get ready and come downstairs bro’ ”

Inside, Felix’s true self screamed, but his new body only laughed, a confident sound that filled the room. He could feel everything, trapped as a spectator within his own body, unable to stop the deep, casual flex of his muscles, the cocky grin that spread across his face.

Felix swaggered out of the bedroom, every muscle loose and relaxed as he automatically headed downstairs. He barely noticed the lingering shift in his walk, the easy confidence that had replaced his usual awkward, careful steps. He knew, in some distant part of himself, that this wasn’t him. But the name "Mike" echoed back each time he tried to remember his real name.

The first person he saw downstairs was Josh, grinning as he slammed a hand down on Felix’s shoulder with a rough camaraderie that would have once made Felix cringe. Josh, the biggest, brashest jock on campus, was someone he’d always tried to avoid. Now, though, he found himself smiling back, his thoughts warming with a strange fondness he couldn’t quite understand. Josh chuckled, punching him lightly in the arm. “Ready to get this party started, bro?”

The response came instinctively. "Always, man!" His voice sounded rich and easy, filled with that same underlying confidence, and Felix felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It felt… right, somehow, and as they worked together with the others, hanging lights and arranging tables, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of fitting in, of belonging here in a way he never had before.

Then the doorbell rang, and Mike headed to answer it, his steps naturally assured, shoulders relaxed. When he opened the door, he froze for a second. Standing there was Nathan, his best friend, the same familiar face and shy smile he’d grown up with. His friend’s arms were full of papers, Josh’s homework, he realized with a strange clarity.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got the assignments Josh asked for,” Nathan said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he handed the papers over. Mike reached out to take them, a small pang of something strange flickering in his mind as he looked at his friend’s familiar, nervous expression. Felix woke up from his mental fog and remembered who he truly was. He was not Mike; he was Felix and Nathan was his best friend. How long did he forget, how is that possible to forget who you are? Inside his head, Felix was panicking and trying to scream and beg for help to Nathan, but on the outside, Mike just grabbed the paper and put on a cocky grin as he realizes how thick Nathan’s ass was.

“Thanks, man,” Mike replied automatically, the words feeling strange in his deeper, confident voice. Josh took the papers with barely a nod, heading back toward the party, and Mike found himself lingering, watching Nathan’s body with a hungry look. Out of nowhere, Mike started to talk kindly to Nathan and to Felix’s surprise, Nathan answered back, worst he recognized in his best friend a feeling of joy as they kept talking together about every and anything.

They chatted for a few minutes, the small talk flowing in a way that felt oddly natural. Felix was screaming for this to stop. Maybe if he screamed loud enough, he will be able to grab dominance over this new Mike’s mind and be able to ask for help. But it didn’t work. Worst, he screamed in panic as he heard himself asking Nathan to come outside to grab a drink. They both went to his bedroom upstairs and just before closing the door, Mike threw a knowing look and a cocky grin to Josh, both of them smiling as they knew Mike was getting lucky.  

Once they were there, Mike listened to his friend talk, nodding as they laughed over stories that seemed almost familiar, yet distant. He felt himself leaning in without even realizing it, his heart pounding a bit harder, his thoughts becoming hazy. There was a moment, a single spark that made everything feel suddenly real, and then just as Nathan was saying that he should go back home to get ready for his Halloween Dungeon and Dragons party, Felix felt his body plunging on Nathan’s lips. He felt the surprise of Nathan fading into acceptance as he gave back his kiss. After some minutes of kissing and touching each other, Mike jumped back up and threw his clothes away, standing erect with his 11 inches dick in front of Nathan. He then started to walk slowly back to Nathan while grinning and talking again. “So tell me Bae’, Trick or treat?” Felix was disgusted by what was happening, how could this happen. He wasn’t even gay, and Nathan was his best friend. No that couldn’t be, it must be a nightmare. But out of nowhere, Felix felt wet lips around his thick cock. The sensation sent shivers down his spine and Mike grabbed Nathan’s head under his calloused palms as he forced it all the way down to his pubes. Felix was torn apart between the pleasure was feeling and the pain of knowing his best friend was giving him a blowjob. Then he felt a rush coming down on him. He felt as his toes started to grip the carpeted floor, his muscles started to tense and his breath became chaotic. “No please, I can’t…” Felix tried to say in a last moment of consciousness as Mike started to spasm and cum straight inside Nathan’s throat, making sure he swallowed every drop of his precious cum. His mind went blank, a flood of warmth washing over him, leaving nothing behind. For a split second, he reached for something he couldn’t name, something lost in a flood of heat and release. Then everything was clear. He was Mike. When he opened his eyes after a couple of pleasurable seconds, Felix was gone. Only Mike stood there. With a satisfied sigh, Mike got his dick out, feeling the lingering warmth radiate through his body, calming his heartbeat. He pulled back on his gym shorts, adjusting his jockstrap, and shot a quick glance in the mirror. As Mike opened the door, he took a look down at Nathan still baked in the pleasure they both just had. “So, do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?” Nathan asked with kindness in his eyes. Mike turned back and laughed before answering “Yo bro’ get the fuck out before I call the broskis to finish you up. You really thought this could be a we? You are a whole for me to fuck and nothing else. Now get the fuck out looser!”

Mike turned back to the mirror and adjusted his cap backward. Perfect, as always. Heading downstairs without another thought, he was ready to enjoy the party, the memory of whatever he’d been worrying about entirely gone.

______________________________________________________________

Hey everybody! Here is the new chapter inspired by this prompt from @yuighjvbn123 "Well, I hope you continue the melorious shop, especially making the sequel for the First Customer story. I really want to see the other perspective, now this time for a shy clumsy nerd who got transformed into a muscular handsome sexy jock. Bit then his demeanor also changed, into more cocky self-obsessed narcissist diva and the usual horny lol. I know it's a basic standard tf plot, but I know you'll find a way to spice things up and make it even hotter"

Hope you guys enjoyed it and see you soon for another adventure ;)

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

────────────

“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

────────────

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[bestreadfanfic]

Masking Together

Summary: Simon gets home from deployment on to discover that new neighbor has moved in.

Pairings: Simon x reader

word count: 583

Warnings: n/a

A/N: This is my first time writing fanfiction so forgive me if it isn't the best. Positive feedback is welcomed. Also, reader is hinted to be black but it's really up to interpretation.

Simon and Ghost were not the same person. Sure they shared the same body but they weren’t the same person. Ghost was a soldier. He was quick-witted and assertive, but most importantly he had meaning. Simon was the opposite. He was unsociable, intimidating, and stubborn. Both Ghost and Simon had no place in the world, but at least Ghost was aware of the fact. Simon seemed to always hold on to a small amount of hope that he would one day find meaning in his life. He wanted to be needed, loved, and cared for. But he knew that it was just wishful thinking.

The end deployment marked the end of Ghost. Well, at least until he was deployed again. His break could be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. Most people looked forward to going home. Simon wished he could say the same, but he hated it. It made him feel so useless. Day after day he would follow the same routine. Wake up, go for a run, order takeout, go to the gym, go to sleep, and repeat. 

That was until he met you at least. You were the first person to move into the apartment complex in nearly half a decade. Most of the residents were elders who preferred to keep to themselves. Not that he was complaining.

The first time that Simon saw you was when came home from a 6 month deployment. Usually, he would just come home in his uniform, but he had decided to go to the pub so he was dressed in civilian clothes. 

It was night. Simon always tried his best to come back at night. It limited his chances of having to interact with people. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one with that thought process. It was obvious that you weren’t expecting to run into anyone. You were wearing a nightgown with your hair in a bonnet. Not one of those sexy short nightgowns more like the one someone grandmother would wear.

Simon didn’t want to seem like a creep or scare you. Right now he was just staring at you through the glass doors of the apartment complex. He debated waiting for you to go back to your apartment or just go in. After standing out there for around two minutes Simon came to the conclusion that he looked like a bigger creep just standing staring at you through the window. So he decided to just go in and get it over with. 

Simon made sure to be as loud as possible when entering the building. You froze when you heard him, but didn’t turn around. Instead, you remained focused on collecting your mail. You were skimming through the mail. Which was strange in Simon’s opinion. Why didn’t you just take it all up into your apartment? As nonthreatening as could Simon approached the mailboxes and began to check his mail.

Strangely he didn’t have any mail. He always had mail whether it was bills or just junk mail, but nothing was in the mailbox. However, Simon was both too tired and too tipsy to care. Maybe his wish came true, and Simon had somehow disappeared, replaced by only Ghost. You were still just standing there going through the mail. 

Neither you nor Simon said anything as he closed and locked his mailbox. However, as Simon was heading up the stairs, he took one last glance at you and was surprised to see you staring right back at him.

[half-oz-eddie]

“I’m sorry to do this, Billy, but, effective immediately, you’re fired.”

“Why? What’d I do?!” Billy exclaimed. “It’s almost Christmas! You can’t—“

“We lost a lot of money this year, Billy. You were laid off along with dozens of people. Pick up a severance package from Patty at the desk before you leave, okay? Best of luck to you.”

Billy stormed out of the advertising agency without that shitty severance package. 

He couldn’t afford to lose this job. It sucked enough that the pool was only open during the summer and he needed to pay his way through school with a shitty phone job for an advertising company. But getting fired before Christmas really took the cake. 

He didn’t want his father to find out he was jobless, or else he’d be homeless, so he went to a job agency and was handed an ad for an administrative assistant to a COO at H.H. Enterprises. 

The pay was quintuple his salary at his old job. He didn’t think he had much of a shot with his limited experience and his age, but he completely lost hope when he learned what H.H. actually stood for. 

Hugh Harrington, Steve Harrington’s father. 

It had been 4 years since Billy and Steve even interacted since they fought. It was a brutal night that still haunted Billy, so he assumed it probably still haunted Steve. He expected Steve to be the one to stop him from getting the job he so desperately needed. Rightfully so, Billy believed. 

What made it worse was finding out not only would the COO be interviewing him, Steve was the fucking COO! 

“This is just my luck.” Billy mumbled to himself as he took the elevator to the 19th floor of the office building.

He dreaded the reaction to his face when he entered his office, but all Steve did was smile and offer him a handshake. 

Billy reluctantly shook his hand and accepted the seat across from Steve. 

“So, you worked at that shitty advertising agency, huh?” Steve skimmed through Billy’s very short resume. 

“Uh…yeah, they…let me go the day before yesterday.”

“Jesus. Christmas is in like…3 weeks.”

“I know. They let a bunch of people go and tried to give us baskets as severance packages.”

Steve snickered. “That sounds like something they’d do.”

Billy sighed. “Look, St—" He stopped himself, not wanting to be so informal with a bigshot Chief Operating Officer. They were adults now in the working world, and he was at the bottom of the food chain. "Uh, Mr. Harrington—”

“Oh, god, no." Steve emphatically shook his head. "Please don’t. Mr. Harrington’s my old man. Just call me Steve.”

“Okay. Steve. Listen. I know we don’t have the best history, but I work my ass off and I really need this job—“

“No problem, you got it.”

That was easier than he thought. “A-are you sure?”

“Hey. I’d rather have a familiar face around the office for a change. Between you and me, this place is dreadful.”

“It’s just—after what happened between us…”

“We were…stupid high school seniors. It was nearly half a decade ago. I’m over it.”

If Steve was willing to let go, maybe Billy could finally let go of the pain of that night too.

“So…I got the job? When do I start?”

“Now, I guess.”

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

Steve sighed. “I’ve never had an assistant to tell what to do before. Not that I wanna...boss you around or anything, I just—“ Steve groaned, resting his head on his desk. “I hate working with my dad.”

“You…want some coffee or something?”

“God, yeah. Coffee—coffee sounds great.”

“How d’you like it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really like coffee. Just keeps me from falling asleep. However you make it is fine. Also—got a smoke?”

Billy smirked as he stood. “Always do.”

Billy spent most of his days at work learning about Steve and only helping out when he wanted some coffee or seemed too overwhelmed. 

He was able to pick up on all his body language. He’d file some paperwork when Steve was stressed, take a call when Steve was pinching the bridge of his nose because he had a migraine and offering him a cigarette when a phone call got too irritating because these old partners of Mr. Harrington’s were either hard of hearing or fucking hardheaded. 

Steve never had to say a word when he needed something. Billy was right there by his side whenever he needed his help and support. 

He even offered to massage Steve’s shoulders when he mentioned how awful Steve’s posture was. 

“God, you are amazing.” Steve moaned as Billy worked out the stiffness in his shoulders. “I really needed you.”

“I’m here, pretty boy. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about now.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s nice. Right there.” 

Billy’s hands felt so firm, yet so gentle on Steve’s aching shoulders. He almost wanted to ask him to massage more of his body, but that definitely wasn’t appropriate in the workplace. 

Even though they knew each other. They were still strangers to one another, so Steve was getting to know an entirely new person—someone he found special. 

“That’s perfect, Billy. Thank you.”

For some reason, that massage felt like more than a massage. Steve already missed Billy’s hands as they pulled away from his shoulders. 

“Why don’t we take a break and have some lunch?” Steve offered after typing up exactly one sentence and taking 2 phone calls. 

“Cool.” Billy agreed. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Y’know that donut shop across from Melvald’s? They have the best damn sandwiches I’ve ever had. They make this special mayo for their BLTs…you gotta try it.”

“Yeah? I can go get us some.”

Steve handed Billy some money from his pocket. It was more than enough for sandwiches. “Get some donuts and some hot chocolate too. I’m so damn tired of drinking coffee.”

“Anything else? Want me to stop by Melvad’s and pick up your snacks? Your supply drawer seemed a little empty last time I checked.”

“Please. You know I get moody without my Pringles.”

“I know. That’s why I asked.” Billy smiled. 

“Hey, Billy.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m good at this job? It’s just—I feel like such an idiot sitting at this desk.”

“You’re doing fine, Steve. You’re damn good at your job. You get your paperwork done on time, your dad’s only been here like—twice to ask you anything and he didn’t even criticize you as much as the first time. You answer all your calls, you show up to all your meetings promptly—“

“Because of you. I do all of that because of you.”

“I’m an assistant, Steve. It’s my job to make sure you’re on the ball. But I’m not in those meetings with those old guys charming them with your ideas. Again. Your ideas. You have a vision for the future of the company.”

“I just…I feel like I’m under a lot of pressure.”

“You are. You’re the COO. It’s a big job. But don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’ll try not to be. Thanks again, Billy. For always listening to me complain. I never hear you complain once.”

Billy chuckled. “I just complain about you when I get home.”

“Really?” Steve pouted. “Am I that bad?”

Billy's chuckle turned into a boisterous laugh. “I’m kidding. You’re real easy to work with. I’m glad I got this job.”

“Me too.”

They made endearing eye contact, smizing at one another for what felt like an eternity before Billy cleared his throat and turned away. 

“I’ll um...go grab lunch and your snacks. Be back soon.”

“Don’t take too long. I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“You’re a big boy, Steve. You can survive an hour without me.”

“An hour?!” Steve whined. “I don’t think I can.”

“Jesus, you’re so clingy.” Billy grinned. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. I promise.”

Steve relaxed his shoulders and his face softened into a smile. “Thank you.”

Billy drove to Melvalds and picked up Steve’s favorite snacks. He got 4 rolls of pringles and a pack of Oreos, then ordered their sandwiches, donuts and hot chocolate. 

He wanted to get Steve a Christmas gift, since Christmas was in a few days, but what do you buy a man who has everything? Billy decided to spend the day trying to figure it out. 

When he got off the elevator, he could overhear the muffled sounds of arguing through Steve’s closed office door. 

“I’m not bringing a date to the Christmas Party!”

“Again?! When are you ever gonna meet a nice girl? You can’t keep showing up without a date. You’re 22, almost 23 years old. No spouse, no family. You look pathetic! You used to have all those girls on your arm. What happened?”

“Nothing happened! I just haven’t dated anyone since I broke up with Nancy!”

“You couldn’t even do that right, could you?!”

“She left me for another guy! That isn’t my fault!”

“It’s every bit your fault. You weren’t enough. You never are! You never apply yourself to anything!“

“I’ve been applying myself here!”

“Yeah, for the past couple of weeks, sure. But for months before that, you were falling behind, missing calls, showing up late—“

“Dad. I’m trying to change!”

“…Yeah. You definitely need to.”

Billy stepped back into the elevator, pretending he’d just gotten off on the floor as Mr. Harrington stepped out of Steve’s office. 

“Good afternoon, sir.” Billy greeted with a nod.

“Hello, Billy.” He greeted in a monotonous tone as he entered the elevator.

Billy rushed down the hall to Steve’s office to check on him. 

“Hey, pretty boy. I got your snacks and our lunch!” He said with a big smile, hoping to pick up Steve’s mood.

“Can you believe my dad? He comes here just to berate me about not having a girlfriend, throw Nancy in my face and make me feel like shit.”

“Yeah, I…heard everything. If it makes you feel any better. I don’t think you’re pathetic or that you’re not enough. I think you’re pretty great.”

“So what if I don’t bring a date to the office party? Why does he care about appearances more than his own son?”

“It’s just the kinda guy he is, I guess.” Billy shrugged as he unwrapped Steve’s sandwich and filled his snack drawer. “Eat. We’ve still got another 6 hours ahead of us.”

“I love when you say “we.” Because, Y’know, it’s true. We make a great team.”

“We do, yeah.” 

“It’d be kinda funny if I took you to the Christmas party as my date, yeah?”

Billy took a deep breath. “Uh…wouldn’t your dad hate that? My dad would definitely hate that.”

“Actually, no. My dad doesn’t care. He’s always talking about modernizing and hiring “more queers for diversity” or something like that.” Steve said, making quotation marks with his fingers. 

Billy laughed. “I guess that’s why I’m here.” He said as he took a bite of his sandwich. 

“What?” Steve pointedly glanced up at him. 

“What?” He innocently chewed his food. 

“So then you should definitely be my date!”

“Why so insistent? You queer too?”

“My mom kinda outed me a few months ago. She didn’t know, she just…guessed.”

“How’d your dad react?”

“He said he didn’t think a twink like me would have much luck in the dating pool.”

Billy bursted out into a fit of laughter. “So your dad thinks you're just taking it lying down, huh?"

“I’m not! The two times I’ve been with guys in college, I topped!”

“Oh yeah? Living up to your king Steve persona still?”

“I-it’s just…it works for me, Y’know?” Steve chuckled, obvious blush kissing his face.

“Works for me too.” Billy smirked at him. 

“Can uh…” Steve chuckled. “Can you work overtime tonight?”

“Over, under, from the back…wherever you need me, I’m here.”

“You’re not talking about work, are you?”

“You’re not talking about work either.”

They challenged each other with mischievous glances.

“You still haven’t told me if you’ll accompany me to the Christmas party.”

“Course I will. I’d love nothing more than for Mr. Harrington to think you’re my twink.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Steve chuckled. 

Billy shot Steve the most alluring smile and intense gaze from those ocean blue eyes. “You better.”

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

Now that I’ve spoken it out loud, I can’t ignore the strangeness around Ash anymore. The nightmares, the flashes of memory that don’t belong to me, and now, what feels like someone else’s words coming out of my mouth.

I’ve decided to keep some distance until I can figure this out, even if the very idea of it has me twisted up in knots.

As usual, when I arrive at work, he’s already there, joking around with Evan and Lex. I make a point to walk back by the windows to my desk, so I won’t have to face him. I know I’ll need to talk to him eventually, but I have no idea what I’m going to say, and now doesn’t seem like the time or place to say it anyway.

So, I avoid him. I avoid the situation. I avoid myself.

I sit at my desk, put my earbuds in, and I retreat to a familiar place deep within. And I work. I work through lunch despite the protests from my stomach. I don’t stop working until six o’clock, long past when Ash usually leaves. I don’t know if he tried to say hello or goodbye. I don’t even remember the day.

When I finally look up, the office is nearly empty, and the sun has just started to sink toward the horizon.

Rather than taking my usual route home, I take a right out of the building and head toward the gym. No one else is going tonight, but that's fine. I just need to think, and I think best when I'm climbing or running.

But I only make it two blocks before I hear his footsteps behind me, moving quickly along the wet concrete as he tries to catch up. I hadn’t even realized it rained today. The sky is clear now, but the moisture has left the air feeling sticky and unseasonably warm.

My heart jumps when I feel his hand tap my shoulder even though I was expecting it. I take a breath and turn to face him.

“Hey,” his greeting is like a hand reaching into a dark well, reaching down to try and pull me up from where I’ve retreated deep inside myself. His eyes search the darkness in mine. I can’t tell if he can see me or not.

He squints slightly and I know then that he can’t. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” I say automatically.

“Everything’s fine?”

“Yeah.”

He squints harder, and the corners of his mouth pull down into a frown, “Did I do something wrong?”

The confusion in his voice twists at my stomach and I have to focus on staying upright, on keeping all the muscles in my face and shoulders relaxed. It’s not easy, but I’ve had two decades of practice and I’m better at it than I’d like to admit. “No,” I say simply. Keeping my answers short to keep the emotion out of them.

Then it happens. I watch as his eyes harden like stones. This is it. This is when I fuck everything up. I can feel it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But maybe it’s for the best. I can’t risk him getting close to me.

“Atlas, what the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Do you think I’m stupid?”

The sharpness in his tone makes me flinch, cracking my armor, and I feel my brows pull together, “No,” emotion sneaks into my voice, drawing out the word.

“Atlas, I—” he seems to struggle for a moment. I wait, desperate to reach out to him, to put my hand on his arm and reassure him, but I’m trapped. My armor has become a cage, as it so often does. Helpless, I listen as he tries again, “I like you, a lot, and we had a really great time the other night, but… you said you’d call and you didn’t, which is fine, like, people get busy, it’s whatever… but you’ve spent the entire day acting like I don’t  exist and now you’re telling me everything is fine, acting as if nothing happened, making me feel like I’m fucking delusional or something. Do you have any idea how awful that feels?”

Yes. I feel myself deflate, a wave of shame pouring over me. I don’t think I can hate myself more than I do in this moment, realizing that I am indeed my mother's son. “I’m sorry,” I try to infuse as much sincerity into the words as I can, but they still fall flat.

“Right. You wanna tell me what’s going on then?”

“I can’t do this, Ash, I’m sorry. I think we should just be friends.” I let it out in a rush, unable to look him in the eye.

“Friends?”

I nod.

“You know, a ‘friend’ would’ve had the decency to talk to me about this rather than avoiding me.”

“I know, I’m—”

“Sorry. Yeah. I got that. Can you tell me why?”

“Because…” I sigh, grabbing on to the only explanation I can think of that makes any sense, “because we work together. I just… I don’t date people I work with.” It’s not necessarily a lie. I usually don’t consider my co-workers part of the eligible dating pool. But maybe if things were different, I’d’ve made an exception.

“You don’t date people you work with?”

“That’s right.”

He scoffs, “This would’ve been good information for you to share with me a lot sooner. I really don’t appreciate being led on.”

“I know, I didn’t mean… I got caught up. I shouldn’t have. I really am sorry.”

His head drops away from me, “Yeah, me too,” he says to the ground more than me, nudging a rock with his shoe. “So, friends then? That’s what you want?”

No. “Yes.”

He nods, still looking at the ground as he takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He finally looks back up at me, his eyes shining, not with their usual playfulness and excitement, but with tears threatening to spill over. I’ve hurt him. “Okay,” he says again, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He turns around abruptly before I can respond and starts walking away.

I stand there for a moment, stunned. Everything about this feels wrong. I want to take it back. And I nearly call out to him, tell him to wait, that I didn't mean it. But then he reaches a hand up, wiping his face, and I stop myself. I've done enough damage already.

I was wrong earlier. It turns out I can hate myself more.

Prev // Next

[sxfterhearts]

waves of love

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol!keeho x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by a dream i had??!

♡ word count: 1,940 words

♡ summary: delayed confessions, the ocean, and ice cream ♡

♡ author’s note: omg im not even joking i had this dream and immediately after i woke up i was like write that down write that down anyways !! here it is ! for our beloved leader •ᴗ• (as always, pc to the lovely people on tumblr and insta!!)

//

The bus leaped over the speed bump, lightly knocking your head against the window and waking you from a shallow slumber. Your eyelids, still heavy from fatigue, fought to stay open as you readjusted your posture, grimacing as you felt tenderness in your shoulders and neck.

A fist came up to your eyes to wipe the sleep away. Once it was gone, you were met with a complete change of scenery. Outstretched fields of paddy and rolling hills were replaced with sparkling waters all along the horizon, all in the blink of an eye.

The ocean.

You hadn’t seen it in over a year, since you moved to the city. It was a rarity to get even a glimpse of nature in the concrete jungle you now called home. You involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief, as though your mind and body were at peace again being this close to the open waters. 

Your destination was not too far from where you spent your childhood and adolescence. It was a sleepy beach town, quaint and quiet, but bustling with life once the waters and sand warmed up, the flowers started blooming and the trees turned a luscious green. You used to make the hour bus ride down to the beach quite often during the summer holidays with your school friends. You could spend hours upon hours building sandcastles, splashing each other in the salted waters or just sitting by the beach, enjoying your convenience store ice creams.

Those were the days…

As the bus rounded the corner and got closer to the town centre, you went through a mental list of your friends. One, two, no, three of them had gone overseas to study. Another was currently doing his PhD. One more was married and expecting a baby in fall. Which left just you, a single, twenty-something working an ordinary desk job, trying to make it in the city. And him.

You closed your eyes. Taking a breath, you could nearly remember the scent of the fancy sunscreen his mom forced upon him; could see the striking red and white striped beach towel he would always have around his shoulders; could envision his skin, tanned from the sun exposure (because who on earth would reapply sunscreen?), contrasted with his pearly whites; could feel the sandiness of his hair as you pushed him under from your seat on his shoulders after winning another game of chicken fight.

It was a bit too much. Even though it’s been twelve years since you last saw each other, you could still remember every single detail of him with all five of your senses. It was a good thing that he was the one who reached out when he came back home after studying abroad. You knew that if it was the other way around, you would do a terrible job at hiding your eagerness.

You weren’t sure what to make of this newfound honesty of yours - for months, years, a decade even, you had to constantly lie, to yourself, to him, to your friends, that there was nothing between you and him but friendship. That the lingering glances, the hushed whispers and the accidental touches all meant nothing. Just two teenagers who grew up together; who knew every inch of each other, to hell with genders. Who cares? It’s the twenty-first century, after all…

And yet, there were nights where you wanted to take one small step forward, to reach out just a little further, or to say one more word. You were always on the edge of the precipice; tiptoeing. Thinking, hesitating, and then the moment would pass. The timing; wrong. You would go back to how it always was - light and teasing, and fun, but nothing more.

Someone on the bus pressed for the next stop. Your mind, still fuzzy from all the memories, registered that it would be yours too. You felt it in the depths of your stomach – the nerves that were building up gradually but with ferocity. It had been a long time, twelve years to be exact, and apart from the occasional like on social media or the odd happy birthday message, there had been virtually no contact. The Keeho you once knew, and the Keeho who would stand before you, could very much be two completely different people.

You tried to reason with yourself. This was Keeho, after all. The boy who let you bury his entire body in sand. The boy who would always share his red and white towel with you when you soaked through yours with your damp hair. The boy who called you princess when he gave you piggybacks in the water, splashing around with your friends in a competitive chicken fight before throwing you into the ocean. The boy who made fun of your celebrity crushes. The boy who brought you to watch the sunset on your birthday – a school night. The boy who would make sure you always had the last bite of his ice cream.

It would be fine, right?

With shaky hands, you tapped off the bus and got off at your stop. It was conveniently located in between a popular strand of the beach, and a strip of shops and restaurants. 

“Y/N!” A voice called from far ahead – a voice you no longer recognised. It still held traces of sleepy summers and salty water and yet, it was different; like the sound of polished, deep brown timbre. Moulded with depth, the experiences of life, no doubt; yet strong and dependable.

“Keeho!” You yelled back in greeting, flapping your arms so he could see you from afar. He jogged, and as his tiny figure grew in size, you took in his dressing - still very him, white shirt, white jacket, and jeans. But in the setting sun, you also noticed the silver chain, sparkling earrings and were those things on his fingers – rings?

“Y/N, you came.” He said, out of breath. He was still standing about an arms’ length away from you, pausing to catch a break.

“Of course I would. His royal highness is back, I can’t pass up his summons, surely.”

Keeho looked up, still huffing slightly, and flashed you a knowing smirk. “Still not letting up on the role play, huh?”

You laughed in response. Why were you even worried? It was Keeho, after all.

“It’s been ages, Y/N.” Keeho muttered, voice small and quiet, allowing the words to linger. He took a step forward, breaching your personal bubble, and wordlessly took you into a hug. 

You gasped at the suddenness, but also, the warmth and the familiarity. You could feel it, and you were half certain he could feel it too - the pounding of your poor heart against your ribcage, relentless. 

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there like this. The world passed you by - people walking along the beach, enjoying the sunset. Cars zooming past, late for their dinner reservations. Kids on scooters, eager to get a few more rides in before they were called home by their parents. And in the middle of it, just two kindred spirits, reunited.

“You could’ve visited or something…” You whined, muffled by Keeho’s chest.

“What?” He chuckled, pulling away, but still keeping his arms around your shoulders.

You refused to look up, instead focusing on a particular spot on his snug, white t-shirt. “You could’ve visited… or called. You did neither.”

“I know… Hey,” Keeho paused, using a finger to tilt your chin towards him, yet refusing to remove said finger once he was staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just, life got in the way.”

You punched his chest weakly in response, only to wince slightly when you were met with pain. Damn Keeho and his strict workout schedule (you only knew this from the frequent updates on his Instagram stories).

“So,” Keeho started, uncertain, which was unlike him. He nibbled on his bottom lip, as though contemplating whether he should continue. To hell with it, he thought. “How was the date?”

Your eyebrows scrunched in response. “What date?”

“You know, last night…”

You raised your eyebrows this time.

“You said you went on a date last night and he got you Italian.” Keeho said, all in a single breath and with the straightest face he could manage, no emotions whatsoever.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, remembering that you updated him on your weekend plans when deciding on the best time to meet up. “Right, Intak.”

“Intak, yes.” Keeho repeated, hiding his gritted teeth.

“Oh, it was fine, not memorable. I mean, nice guy, pretty face and everything, but… Why?”

Keeho suddenly let out a huge sigh of relief, steadying himself with two palms firmly gripping your shoulders. “Because, I wanted to make sure before I do this.”

“Do what? Keeho… What are you –”

Keeho shushed you, and before you could register what was happening, he was getting closer, and closer, and closer, and it was all happening in slow-motion and yet too fast, and – oh, oh…

His lips, softer than you ever imagined, met yours in a tentative, gentle dance. Nothing fancy, just honest and eager. And you could tell, from the way they glided against your lips, that this felt just right. It felt like you should’ve been doing this all along…

“Should’ve done this ages ago. I don’t know what took me so long but,” Keeho mumbled, pulling away so slightly that the words were breathed against your lips. “But I couldn’t let some guy –”

“Intak.” You provided, unhelpfully, it seems, because Keeho rolled his eyes viciously. You couldn’t stifle your giggles. 

“Whatever. I couldn’t let some guy have you.”

“Oh, so I’m a commodity?”

“That’s not what I meant! Just – I’m sorry, I’m bad at expressing myself.”

“I’m very much aware of that.”

“Let me make it up to you –”

“Ice cream?” You both said at the same time. Both of your faces split into wide, childish grins.

“Race you, princess!” Keeho declared before giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

“Hey, no fair! Your legs are so long! Wait up!”

//

{ epilogue }

“So how did you know?” You broached the topic gently as the two of you sat knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder on the kerb outside the convenience store. You lost, obviously, and as per tradition, the loser had to buy the ice creams.

“Know what?”

“That I… you know, reciprocated your feelings.”

“Oh, easy.”

You whacked his shoulder. “Do tell.”

“Hey! That hurt…” Keeho whined, rubbing the sore spot with his ice cream-free hand. “Well, it’s really not that hard.”

“Go on…”

Keeho looked at you and contemplated for a few moments, before stating, “Every time I post a thirst trap, like a gym photo or something, you like it within a minute. And then when I check back, you unlike it. It’s almost like, I don’t know – you don’t want me to know?”

You stuffed the ice cream in your mouth and groaned aloud. Your lips were fixed in a permanent pout as you chewed silently on the last of your ice cream.

“It’s fine, the worst bit was definitely when you accidentally liked that photo of me in a suit from two years ago like, last month.”

You were about to bury your face in your knees when Keeho replaced your finished ice cream stick with his own, the last bite, covered with more chocolate than vanilla ice cream, fully intact. You accepted it wordlessly, clearly in a sulky mood as you rested your head on his shoulder.

[b-skarsgard]

•The bold choice means on another such night, in a dark and shrouded set-build, the first time Hoult and most of the crew will even see Eggers’ vampire, the moldering Count Orlok (an unrecognizable Bill Skarsgård), will be in this dance between light and dark. And every dance has its quirks.

“I had all the prosthetics pieces and the big fur coat,” Skarsgård recalls with a smirk. “And [Cinematographer] Jarin would have hundreds of candles, and the way he would light a face would just be like, ‘Light more candles; kill these four candles; light those up.’ I remember being very hot and sweaty.” It’s not necessarily the effect one expects in the presence of a vampire, but it was satisfying all the same to Eggers and Skarsgård. After all, the pair have chased the demon for nearly a decade.

•The director’s quest for authenticity likewise led him to retain certain elements of Murnau and Grau’s iconic Orlok design (the talons are still there) while reinterpreting others.

“My main goal was to ask, ‘What would a dead Transylvanian nobleman look like?’” Eggers says. “The hairstyle and all of the clothing, and all the trappings come down to that, and then creating a scary, imposing, masculine vampire rather than a sad vampire, although Bill still adds some needed pathos in a few moments.”

Skarsgård indeed brings a wounded ferocity to the character while vanishing in Orlok’s design. The Swedish actor reveals he would sit for six hours in the makeup chair for full-body prosthetics, which was only the beginning. Since Eggers’ Orlok is supposed to have once been a 1500s sorcerer who survived the grave, Skarsgård felt liberated in other areas.

“There’s no historically accurate accent of what that would sound like anymore,” Skarsgård explains. “He could possibly be Hungarian or he could be Romanian. So I just took little things, idiosyncrasies that they possibly would have, like rolling Rs, without going too Bela Lugosi. It was just finding these little things to anchor it in.”

•In this vein, Depp sees Ellen’s draw toward Orlok as tragic since she is so deeply in love with Thomas. He is genuinely good for her, but there’s something inviting about darkness.

“I think that it touches a lot on taboo and being drawn to something that scares you,” the actress says. “A lot of people live with a true fear of death, understandably so, but we’re kind of drawn to it and intrigued by it… because it’s the most terrifying thing, it’s the most titillating thing.”

Perhaps it is the actor who plays Death himself who can best make sense of Orlok’s thrall. In Skarsgård’s mind, the vampire represents anything humans are drawn to despite knowing better. “It could be an addiction, it could be an abusive relationship, it could be all of those things,” Skarsgård says. “He’s the embodiment and allure of attraction to destruction. Sometimes you want to be destroyed or you want to be corrupted, and that’s Ellen’s inner struggle. Then sometimes, from Orlok’s perspective, it’s the craving to destroy that which you find so beautiful.”

excerpts provided by the link above where you can read more

[selkieprompts]

A Date With An Incubus

Summary: After breaking off a long-term relationship you decide to try dating again, however your first date with this guy you matched with on a dating app doesn't go as you planned.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

originally posted on AO3

Tags: Reader Insert | Cunnilingus | Incubus | Unprotected Sex | Smut | Demon Sex | Demon/Human Relationships | Demon & Human Interactions | Original Male Character / AFAB Reader | Incubus/Reader | Fingering | Oral

You had decided to enter the dating pool again after breaking off a nearly decade-long relationship. Of course, things happen, and people drift apart, but damn, this one kind of hurt. You were alone for the first time in years, and it felt weird. Even going back into the dating pool was strange. You got so used to your routine with your ex that you weren’t sure what to expect when you had your first date since the breakup… but one thing that made you hopeful was the person you were talking to seemed nice. Like actually lovely, and it helped that he was handsome too, but you had this strange feeling you’d seen him before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

You were to meet him at the Aquarium, his idea. It wasn’t your first pick for a first date, maybe a second or third date, but still, you appreciated it. It was cute, you had to admit. You looked at the time. Was it already 3? Your date started at 3:30, and it’d take forty-five minutes to get there.  Shit.  You get dressed quickly, grab your keys, and head out the door. Great, you were already late on the first date, worrying that this would somehow ruin his first impression of you. You sit in the car, deciding whether to text him, which you do.

[SMS] 3:38 PM: Hey, I’m so sorry; I just left my apartment. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m sorry!

[SMS] 3:39 PM: It’s fine. Please be safe first. I’ll meet you outside when you get here. 😊

The emojis he always sent you were cute, making you feel slightly less guilty about being late.

When you arrived, he was where he said he’d be, right outside the Aquarium. He sat on a bench, and from first glance, he already looked like a big guy, but when he caught you approaching, he stood up and waved, a wide grin appearing on his face.  Jesus Christ, he was tall , and you weren’t that small yourself. You were average height. He jogs over to you and greets you. “Glad you made it!” you also realized this was the first time you heard his voice. He was Scottish. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” he gives another smile. 

Still, the feeling of familiarity lingers, and now it’s starting to bother you. Where the hell have you seen this guy before? You snap out of your thoughts when he speaks again. “I got us some tickets for the Otter Encounter, but that doesn’t start for another hour and a half, and I also saw a restaurant in here if you wanted to check it out.” Wow, this guy sure has a lot of things planned for the two of you. And all for a first date? Maybe he hasn’t dated in a while and got over-excited. Not that it bothers you. You’re glad you decided to go and not just ghost him. “Yeah, the restaurant sounds nice. Let’s go there first,” you said, smiling back at him.

The two of you make your way through the building, passing exhibits and such, commenting on the animals as you see them. The restaurant was what you expected. A little gimmick with ocean themes, but it was charming. And the food wasn’t terrible, kind of overpriced though. Though as you ate your food, you noticed he barely touched his. Maybe he ate before he came here? You stare at his face as you eat, and he sees. “Oh, do I have something on my face?” your face quickly flushes in embarrassment. “Oh no, I–” should you bite the bullet there? Yeah, if you didn’t, it would keep you from thoroughly enjoying yourself. “You just look really familiar. Have you’ve been in anything?” a nervous laugh followed from him, and now he seemed a little coy. “Short answer, yeah. Stuff online mostly.”  then it clicks.  

He was a content creator you followed on Twitter and other less favorable sites. A content creator who made porn! You were on a date with a cam guy. Your eyes widen, and your mouth hangs open slightly. Was this really happening? Were you on a date with fucking  Axel Lily?  He speaks again. “Look, I understand if you would want to call it here–” you interrupt, “No, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda cool actually,” you admit, and that’s when you see his eyebrow raise. “Yeah?” He sounds relieved. “Yeah, I actually follow some of your content.”  oops probably should’ve kept that to yourself.  You hear him laugh, though. “Well, I appreciate the support.” Now you’re thrilled you didn’t ghost him.

The date continued, as usual, meeting the Otters being the highlight of your trip there, besides the other thing you discovered about him. So when it comes to an end, you feel disappointed until he invites you back to his place. You agree, maybe a little too eagerly, and you follow him in your car back to his house. Was going over to his home too much for a first date? Maybe but the decision was made, and there was no turning back now. 

---

When you arrive at the house, you can’t help but notice that it looks normal. You didn’t know why you expected anything else. You park near it and follow him inside. It was lovely inside, too, normal. Though you wondered where  that  room was. You wanted to see it, but you shouldn’t be too pushy. You were so busy with your thoughts that you didn’t notice him coming up behind you until you turned around. He startled you a bit, to which he apologized, but you knew he had something brewing in that mind of his. Something naughty. A devious-looking smirk paints his features as he looks at you, and you can’t even begin to describe how that excited you. You knew what was going to happen next.

He gets as close as he possibly can to you, his hand ghosting your waist as he looks at you with this lustful gaze. The two of you are waiting to see who’d make the first move. Instead, you felt brave and pulled him down into a kiss. The kiss started soft, lingering on each other’s lips before it became more passionate with each departure until the two of you desperately felt each other. You dared to tug at his shirt, signaling him to take it off, which he did. You didn’t know why but you expected him to look different in real life, but no. His body was just as gorgeous as it had been in his shows. The man was fucking stacked. “Holy shit.” you mutter before he returns for another frantic kiss.

You find yourself on the couch, where he pushes you down and climbs on top of you, pulling off your clothing. All the while, your hand finds itself in his sweatpants, feeling for his cock. Christ, it felt huge. You stroke it gently, and that elicits a moan from him. You keep stroking him as his hands start to wander and soon he finds your slit, with no hesitation, he slips his fingers inside. “Wet for me already, huh?” He sounds so smug. “Let’s see if I can make you any wetter.” his thumb starts circling your clit as he curls his fingers inside you.  Fuck, did it feel good!  You do your best to keep stroking his cock, but with how his fingers are working, you can barely keep up. You try your best, though. He goes at it for a little while until he withdraws his fingers from you. You let out a noise of disappointment until you see him pull your underwear off and put his head between your legs. Then you feel his mouth on your cunt, sucking and lapping at it, he was eating you like he was starving, and you were a full-course meal. His hands held your hips as his tongue worked on you. You bucked with every lash he gave you until you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. You swear you could see stars, but he wasn’t finished with you.

Axel returns and gives you another kiss where you can taste yourself on his tongue. But as you went on with your passionate fling, you started to notice something, his teeth were sharper than you remember, and they cut your lip. You open your eyes, pull back, and begin catching a few more things.  He turned fucking blue!  And horns! And claws! And a fucking tail! What the hell? “Woah!” you’ve entirely snapped out of your pleasured daze and scooted back, your back hitting the couch. “What the fuck?!” you yell out. You swallow as you look at what’s in front of you. Your date turned into some sort of blue fucking demon! He looks confused for a moment until he looks at his hands. “Ah shit.” he doesn’t sound surprised, just… embarrassed? “I’m sorry, this doesn’t usually happen.” he makes it sound like he did something small, like he made a mess or something. You just blink, staring at him. You don’t know what to make of it, but… even as all of this is happening, you don’t feel like he will harm you. Even if he looks a little demonic. “Axel, what the hell is going on?” you want answers, though.

He sucks through his teeth before sitting back up. “I’m a demon…” he smiles awkwardly. “An incubus.” You just stared at him. You couldn’t believe this. “I see...” you said quietly. “I had every intention of telling you, I promise.” he quickly interjects with worry. You linger there, thinking for a moment, you thought about leaving, but there is another part of you urging you to stay. Axel reaches out to touch you but quickly recoils, probably realizing it’s not a good idea. 

When you had this fascination with the occult, you read about his kind. They killed people. They drained them dry. You look at him once more. “Are you… are you going to kill me?” you ask. There’s this look of shock on his face. “What?! No! No.” he tries to assure you, and it somewhat works because you start to relax. “I wouldn’t dream of that.” His tone is soft and comforting. “So why did you invite me here?” there’s a pause as he looks down at his hands, “Because I like you.” you believe him. For some reason, you believe him. “But I can understand if you wanna call it here–” “I didn’t say that.” you interrupt him, and you see his eyebrows raise. “What?” the incubus sounds admittedly confused. You moved closer to him. Now you were bold, taking his hand and placing it on your thigh. He takes the hint soon after, and you two continue where you left off.

You see him shift to remove his pants, and of course, the fucking porn star and now revealed incubus has the most enormous cock you’ve ever seen. But, of course, why would you expect anything less? It was over seven inches in length and pretty thick in girth, he was uncircumcised, and it was blue like the rest of him. You weren’t sure if you would be able to take all this, but you couldn’t wait to try. 

He continues taking the lead, putting his hands on your knees and spreading your legs wide open for him to see all you had to offer. Axel looks at you with hunger in his eyes as he strokes his cock’s head against your clit in a slow, daunting motion. He’s teasing you, and you love it, but you wanted all he had, and you wanted it inside you. You take your hand and point it down so his head meets your entrance, you look up at him with a wanting gaze, and you see him grin. Finally, he looks down, and you see him spit, and when it meets your cunt you feel a sort of warmth as he rubs it around your hole’s entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, “Yes, please,” you reply. 

You feel him slowly slide it in, stopping every so often up until he is entirely in. He’s letting you adjust to him, waiting for your okay to move. He was inside you. There was a demon inside you, part of you couldn’t believe this was happening, but the other part of you wanted this moment to last forever. When you finally feel ready, you give him a nod, and he nods back. The incubus starts to move his hips, and you feel his cock sliding out before it slams back in. The motion causes a shiver through your body. The motions continue until they gradually get faster in rhythm, and you wrap your legs around his waist. “That’s it.” you hear him say in a low voice, “Taking my cock like a good pet.” you feel a claw glide across your lower lip as he continues his merciless thrusts into you. Your body felt so hot. It was on fire! “Moan for me, my dove.” it’s a command you’ll gladly follow, so you moan. You moaned out his name and swore to God as this demonic, beautiful creature ruined you. He grabs your hips, his claws digging into your skin as he continues thrusting, ensuring he hits your particular spot to make you see stars. “Ah–fuck!” you cry, feeling your sweet release.

Axel moves you onto his lap, keeping his hands on your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock with such a fierce pace that you could hardly catch your breath. You hook your arms around his shoulders, but it barely keeps you stable. He’s relentless with his cock, and he will make sure you cum. Again. And it doesn’t take long. You can feel it building up again as he switches from bouncing you to ramming it inside you. His balls slapped against your skin with a loud audible  smack!  “Come on, pet, cum for me again,” he growls out this command, and you do. You cum so fucking hard that your legs start to shake, and your fingernails dig deep into his blue skin.  “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!”  you cry out as you let your orgasm wash over you. You can see a smirk form on his lips. Smug bastard. If he wasn’t fucking your brains out, you would have made a remark. He tilts his head, “Think you can spare one more?” he asks. “Y-yes. Yes, please.” you needed just one more… One more release. 

Axel takes you off his cock and puts you back underneath him, your legs parting once more as he slides back in. Another shaky moan leaves you as he moves his hips once more. The pace was more gentle this time as Axel moved inside you. He was letting this one build-up, and it was killing you. The slow, deliberate motions drive you crazy, and the demon knew precisely what he was doing. “You want it?” he whispers huskily in your ear, and you can only muster a nod. “Okay then.” he wanted to make you beg, but he’d save it for another time. Suddenly the thrusts became harder and harder until you could feel your cunt tighten around his cock, then he cums. His hot sticky semen filled you up, and it was enough to make you finish cumming too. 

He withdraws from you and lays down next to you. You feel a sticky substance trail down your thigh, goddamn there was a lot. Unlike you, he seems fine after that, back to his energetic self, “Here, let me clean you up.” but when he goes to help you, you give him a little wave. “G-Give me a second….” you sound out of breath. “Maybe you can… grab some towels?” you suggest, and he gives you a nod before heading to his bathroom. You notice he’s back in his human form when he comes back. The Axel you knew before… all this. You spread your legs and allow him to clean you up. He was so gentle with you, it was strange for sure, but it was something you appreciated though a question comes to mind. He came in you, and you weren’t on the pill. “Hey–” he looks up at you, “I’m… not going to get instantly pregnant, am I?” you sound worried, but he gives you a shake of the head. “Long story short, no. I can’t get people pregnant without some weird demonic magic. I’m infertile otherwise.” Well, that’s convenient, and for some reason, you believe him.

Axel finishes cleaning you up, and you gather enough strength to finally sit up. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you. “Hell of a first date, huh?” He cracks a joke. “Yeah, and I look forward to the rest of them.” You see his eyes light up, “Really?” you give a tired nod, “Yeah.” you can feel the excitement radiate off him. You were going to stick around for sure. Besides the whole demon thing, Axel seemed like a sweet guy. And well, you were always curious about Incubi anyways…

[pixelnrd]

hello! ive binged your blog this past week and have been so invested and impressed with how professionally everything has been done. I particularly liked the snippets of your 'process' you've hinted at in other asks. I havent been around since the beginning so i wanted to ask what inspired you to undertake such a large project! or, rather, did you expect it to be as big as it became? each generation has 70+ daily posts, their portrait headshots, family portraits... i love it! were you trying to build an audience when you started out? was it a covid project that you had time to build a huge queue for? i think ill be starting my own narrative simblr here soon and i'd love to hear your thoughts or advice about your journey with it, if any.

Hello and thank you for such a lovely message, it's so nice to receive feedback on the quality of my Decades Challenge because I do put so much effort in behind the scenes thanks to my agonising perfectionism!

As a project it has grown beyond what I thought it would be, to a point that I had to reign it back in in early-2022 because I couldn't keep up. I'll put more detail under the cut ✨

The Langstons started as a covid project in 2020. I was an unemployed student with a lot of time on my hands. I'd done legacies before and was pretty good at getting close to the end so that was the 'project', to do the Decades Challenge. And while looking for inspiration like cc and builds etc I found simblr and discovered people were posting their Decades Challenges here with narrative attached. By this stage I'd already played a fair bit into my Langston family (they had 4 kids by that point) so I decided to start posting my sims as well, which pushed me to put a bit more effort in with shots, story, editing etc because I had imposter syndrome. I didn't intend for there to be much narrative or story, and I think that's pretty obvious when reviewing the 1890s Langstons, but it started to grow as I was posting because I wanted to give my sim characters justifications for their life paths I was sending them on... and it all kind of took off from there, as a Decades Challenge story.

Covid over 2020 and 2021 in my country forced us into hard lockdowns, and over those 2 years I had heaps of spare time for home-based hobbies - so I just kept pushing myself to keep going with my Decades Challenge for something to do. I got really into creating storylines and costuming and wanting to do the project 'justice' because of how much effort was going in and how many generations I needed to cover to finish it. Then I stared doing lookbooks, creating portraits and character pages, and then making cc (which was a fun side project).

I wanted to build an audience at the start because I wanted to gauge whether anyone was as interested in my sims as I was in others', and when I stared getting feedback and responses to my posts it was very validating and flattering, so that spurred me to keep up. I never dreamed it would get the audience it has now! It's nice being told that something you are making is good. IRL at the time, I was pretty miserable - I graduated my Masters without a job, I was trying to conceive and failing, I was lonely due to covid and lost some of the best years of my 20s - but simblr made me happy and was a distraction from those hard things and so I really poured effort into the thing that brought me happiness.

2022 and 2023 forced me to pull back from my Decades Challenge project due to pregnancy and becomming a parent. It felt very natural to drop it at the time, but since finding my groove with parenting and my new life I still want to finish this project because it's been nearly 4(!) years of effort and I'd hate to leave it so close to the end. So that's why I'm still here - in a reduced capacity to what I was in 2020 and 2021 at my peak - trying to get it done. I don't post lookbooks or do cc anymore, because I just don't have the time anymore. But everyone is so encouraging, I have made some nice friends here and I'm constantly in awe of and inspired by the sims, content and stories others are creating. There is so much more potential for historical gameplay in the years since I started my Decades Challenge - farming! horses! infants! - and I hope that my project has inspired others to have a go! That's the best legacy I could hope to leave...

[stationintern]

drarry prompt: bus ride

okayyyy let's go. also inspired by the @goblinmatriarch prompt about running into someone when you're already late and having to decide whether to make your appointment or follow your heart

Freddie’s great. Really, he is. Or, he was. Draco’s not sure– the years all blend together.

He’s on the bus to Freddie’s house, and London passes by the window in a blur as he allows himself to get lost in his thoughts. He hasn’t always taken the bus. He used to Apparate, back when he was young and excited and had less to think over. He’s happy, isn’t he?

He and Freddie each bring something special to their relationship. Freddie has a rather large cock and isn’t in any rush to move in, which is ideal since Draco values his personal space. Draco has the kind of skills in bed you can only get from a few years of self-destructive sexual promiscuity, and the kind of humour you can only get from another few years of re-assimilation into the society you were once exiled from, which requires the ability to laugh at one's self a good amount.

It’s been three years, and maybe the whole not-moving-in thing should be a concern. They aren’t really… moving forward in any aspect of their relationship, and at first that was preferable. Now, Pansy’s got married, Blaise and Anthony are on their third vow renewal (in the Bahamas this time), Greg is expecting a child, and Draco feels distinctly behind the times. Maybe he should start looking for something more serious? Is this what he wants? A long-term boyfriend who has never been interested in anything more, liked him enough to push him towards it, pull him in. Why hasn’t Draco felt the need to go deeper?

There’s no way to be sure, so now he takes the bus. 

It slows to a stop and Draco doesn’t bother to look up from his novel– the one he’s perpetually stuck in the middle of, a mask and a wall to hide the horde of questions running through his mind every time he chooses to ride public transportation– until there’s a shifting in the seat next to him. The bus is nearly empty, so there’s no reason for someone to choose the seat next to him, and if he’s learned anything by now, he’s learned that being singled out means that he’s been spotted– never as a naturally handsome, intelligent looking man, but as Draco Malfoy, and there’s hardly a situation where that could be positive.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

“You’re on the bus.”

“As are you.”

Potter looks the same as ever– younger than he should, ridiculously hip, hauntingly handsome. Sometime over the last decade he’d got himself an eyebrow piercing, and since then Draco has had to make a conscious effort to avert his eyes whenever his ex-archenemy-turned-coworker is near. 

They have an unspoken understanding these days, ever since they realized they both work for the same nonprofit. The Youth Entertainment Coalition formed around five years back, and Draco was assigned to the Literacy Department. Its goal being to avoid the same kind of teenage radicalism that presented itself during the war, and Draco was a shoo-in for a leadership position. He was young, apologetic, and had extensive experience when it came to being radicalized, so of course he would know how to combat it. His department began opening twenty-four-hour bookshops and game rooms, creating a safe space for teenagers to come research and meet people different from them at all hours. And they may not have any set-in-stone evidence of its effect, but no wars have broken out, so they count that as a win.

The only downside of the job proved to be Potter, who made it a point to linger around their shared office building whenever he could. His presence became a constant reminder of everything Draco could have been: good. They don’t antagonize each other, they only speak when necessary, and it works quite well. No murders have occurred… yet.

“Why not just Apparate?”

Why not just Apparate to his boyfriend’s house? He used to.

“I like to collect my thoughts,” Draco replies, “In a third location. Not at my house, not at my destination. Sometimes it’s nice to have somewhere in-between the two.”

Potter shifts again. Draco still hasn’t truly looked at him. If he did, he’d have to look at that fucking piercing, and Potter’s eyes, and he’d end up with so much more to think about than before. There’s simply no time for that.

“Why are you taking the bus?” Draco asks.

“The same reason, I guess. It’s nowhere,” Potter replies, “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” Draco agrees, “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“From where?”

“Blind date.”

“A good one?”

“Not at all. He sucked.”

Draco takes a sharp breath. Of course, Potter is into men. Yet another thing Draco does not have time to think about.

“You’re gay now?”

“Now? I’ve been gay.”

Draco finally takes the leap and looks over at Potter, who gleams in the afternoon light- with his unapologetically toothy smile and consistently round glasses perched low on his nose. It’s ridiculous, how handsome the man is. Draco has done pretty well ignoring it, but there’s only so much a person can take. It’s simply not fair, how someone can be so good-looking and morally upstanding. 

“And the Prophet?”

“Haven’t picked up on it. Where are you headed?”

“Chelsea,” Draco says, simply. He could say ‘my boyfriend’s house,’ but he doesn’t, unsure of why.

“Mm. I’m sick of blind dates.”

“As is anyone whose ever been on one.”

“It makes me lose faith in my friends, you know? Like, I don’t know where they find these people.”

“The gutter, most likely.”

“I just want to meet someone organically, but it gets to this point when you’re an adult… where it feels like you’re just out of people to meet. Am I making sense?”

“Yes,” Draco gets it, “It’s hard to get to know people. You have to rehash everything, let them in. It’s easier to just stick with the people who’ve been there, who know you… intimately.”

“Exactly,” Potter breathes a heavy sigh of relief, sinking low into his seat and spreading his legs obscenely, “You know, I’ve wanted to get to know you. For a while, actually.”

Draco’s blood freezes like ice, “Me?”

“Yeah,” Potter says, knocking shoulders with Draco, “But, like, how was I supposed to approach you? You were always around, but in the office you have this… face. Like, don’t speak to me about anything other than my bookshops or I’ll explode.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Whatever. Why would you want to get to know me?”

“You’re interesting.”

“In which way?”

“All of them.”

Draco’s mouth hangs open for an embarrassing amount of time while he processes that response, “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah. You can… get to know me. I suppose.”

Draco’s not sure what kind of spirit has possessed him, but apparently it’s hell-bent on making his life more complicated than it was before.

“Are you free tonight?” Potter asks.

The bus slows to a stop, and Draco’s knows that this is where he should get off. He's already running late, and this is his stop. But, curiosity and dissatisfaction propel him into action. He holds up a finger, pulls out his phone, and brings up Freddie’s contact.

I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it tonight.

Draco knows that he’s walking a fine line here. Standing up his boyfriend to hang out with someone he’s attracted to and wants to get to know better. But, deep down, he knows that Freddie won’t care. He probably wouldn’t care if Draco broke up with him right now with a text that simply said ‘we’re over.’ All in lowercase, no less. 

Freddie has never been prone to loud emotions, and nobody's emotions are louder than Draco’s. Something’s been missing for a while.

It is time to move forward. It is time to get to know new people, even if they’re old enemies. Maybe that’s the best part of it all– getting to go over their shared history and recontextualize it, see what was behind the wall of hatred they kept safely in between them for all of those years.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and looks over at Potter, who is staring at him with a boyish raise of the eyebrow and tilt of the mouth, full of anticipation– something fresh and interesting and completely unknown.

“Yeah,” Draco replies, “I may not be new, but I’m definitely free.”

if you liked this, feel free to leave a comment or kudos over on ao3!

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"It's a shame about the Harvest Moon Ball. I guess I'll have to save this mask for next year."

Miruna Maricourt stared at her reflection. She had really been looking forward to the ball, especially because every political leader needed to blow off steam after the events in Twikkii Island. She and Claudia had retired to their bed chambers for the night, but neither one of them was tired. The news about the canceled ball had caught everyone by surprise and rumors were flying.

"Do you really think that Crystal Cove received death threats?" Miruna asked. "I've heard people say that you and I were involved with shutting the ball down and that we have some demonic army trained to invade while Liam sorts out the backlash. That man will run that country into the ground if he keeps up like this."

"It's cowardly for Liam to back out of hosting it," Claudia agreed. "You don't let threats and terrorists win, otherwise people will know that they can walk all over you. Invading his country would be a breeze if I ever wanted to. The people would gladly welcome a leader who knows how to protect her people without giving up a single thing. Doesn't he realize that getting the international leaders in one place with their guard down is priceless? He could actually obtain information that would protect his realm instead of hiding."

"That was my thought as well. Get a few monarchs or their families and staff drunk and just wait for the confessions to start rolling in."

Miruna's staff appeared in an instant at the first sign of an intruder. The figure on the ground wasn't making any sudden moves, but Miruna's duty was to protect her queen and her fiancée at all costs. She couldn't let her guard down for a second. She recognized the intruder at least, though she had to idea of whether that was a good thing or not.

"Lukas, you're up late. To what do we owe this honour?"

Claudia crossed her arms defensively, but tried not to betray her interest in the intruder. Very few people could get through the magical wards around the castle, so intruders weren't a regular occurrence. Obviously, those meant nothing to a deity.

Claudia had always been intrigued by Lukas. Growing up, her parents didn't really mention them unless Lukas had gone on an emotional rampage, leaving a mess in their wake that fell to the reapers to clean up. They popped in and out of the reapers' business from time to time, but was otherwise absent from their husband's realm. Claudia had never seen Lukas up close before, and had certainly never expected them to show up in her bedroom. They seemed to crackle with wild energy, power bursting from within them that lashed across the room. It was nothing like the power Claudia had seen her parents display over the years. It was mesmerizing.

"You need to talk that idiot into having the Harvest Moon Ball," Lukas demanded. They looked pissed off, only increasing the energy Claudia could feel building in the room. "It's happened for centuries, even during the Demon Wars. That war lasted nearly a decade and they never canceled it once!"

"The ball? What do you care about a ball?" Claudia asked curiously. "Is it a trap you're working on? A calculated conspiracy to overthrow the Crystal Cove government again? You'd have my support; Liam is a terrible leader. His mother is my Aunt Juniper, and she's nothing like him at all. It's sad."

"Claudia!" Miruna hissed, looking worried. "If they take over Crystal Cove, what will stop them from conquering us as well?"

"A valid concern," Lukas agreed. "Unfortunately, my duties don't allow me the time to run a mortal country, and my husband would be disappointed in me for troubling the mortals in ways I'm not allowed. I'm afraid your reign is quite safe from me."

"But not the good tiaras," Miruna added snidely. "Our last inventory counted two missing, one of which I was planning to wear to the Harvest Moon Ball."

Lukas made a dismissive gesture at this, and Miruna glowered back at them. She stared expectantly at her fiancée, but Claudia was still staring in awe at the deity. She had felt the presence of the world of death all of her life, and to suddenly see the exact opposite manifested in one being was fascinating. She wondered how many times her father had seen Life in his travels at work. He would love to be here geeking out about the mysteries of the universe. She would have to call him when Lukas left.

"You didn't answer my question," Claudia stated, working on finding her royal composure. "What's a ball worth to you? There's the Goldman Memorial Ball coming up soon in Twikkii Island. Just move whatever you're planning to there."

"We're not doing your dirty work," Miruna added, her words dripping with venom. "You go talk to Liam if you need this ball so badly. He's afraid of you, and we're not."

"What the hell did I ever do to you?" Lukas demanded. "It's not like this is hard. Just talk to the man and make it clear that you want the ball reinstated."

Claudia eyed her fiancée with concern. She was uncharacteristically angry at the deity. Miruna was the sweetest witch in her coven and a favourite of the young witches she taught. She had no reason to argue with the literal god that had appeared in their bedroom.

"You can't seriously just expect to walk into my bedroom and boss me around. You can't control me or Claudia like your fake reapers and your little line of minions you force to serve you. If you want something, then I refuse to do it."

"Miruna."

Claudia's voice silenced the tirade her fiancée was about to launch, but Miruna's face still looked angry. What Claudia had wanted to shout was, "Miruna, what the hell are you talking about?" but that wouldn't present a strong, united image in front of a god.

Claudia tried to decipher Miruna's reaction quickly so she could prevent the next outburst and steer the conversation away from whatever was triggering the witch. It couldn't be a work thing. Outside of following Theo, Lukas rarely appeared in magical matters. Their kids did go to the same school Miruna taught at, but if it was a school matter, surely Claudia would have heard about it. Victoriana also attended there and Claudia knew that she could count on her daughter for important intel.

If it wasn't about work or magic, what could the problem possibly be? Miruna rarely did anything else. Her magical career was everything to her and it consumed most of her waking hours. She even missed some royal occasions that a future consort really should attend because something magical popped up. If her father suddenly died, Miruna could step into his role immediately without the slightest bit of effort.

Maybe Lukas' husband was the problem. People did tend to avoid Death if they could, even though he seemed like a perfectly nice man. Miruna didn't have any dead relatives that were important to her, at least not any that Claudia knew about. Miruna's mother had been a deadbeat parent growing up, but as far as Claudia knew, she was very much alive. There weren't many people who Miruna was truly close to. Her work friends, her coven friends, her half-siblings...Claudia was drawing a blank on any other important relationship in her fiancée's life. Unless....

Claudia's heart sank, realizing just why her future wife was glowering at a deity. It was a problem with Lukas' kids, just not their biological ones. Miruna had dated Arterius for several months in high school. They used to be inseparable even before dating. He was her best friend and her boyfriend. It seemed inevitable that the two of them would end up married, but the relationship soured as they grew older. Miruna knew that Arterius' parents didn't approve of the match, even if they didn't say anything verbally. It was in the way they stared at her or the sigh they'd release when Arterius asked if she could stay for dinner that night. Miruna used to vent about Life and Dearh when she and Claudia were dating, but Claudia hadn't taken it seriously. What were the odds of Miruna running into Arterius' parents ever again?

Claudia wasn't sure of how to proceed. Was she jealous of the anger Miruna felt for an ex-boyfriend' parents? Did this mean that she wanted Arterius back? Claudia knew that she didn't want Roman back in her own life, even if she wouldn't mind him in her bed for old time's sake. So did Miruna feel the same? Was she marrying Claudia for money and power, or for love? Did Claudia mind if her future marriage was based on something other than love? It was something to think about when there wasn't a deity in her bedroom.

Claudia blinked and missed Lukas slipping from their female form into their male form. Was Lukas showing dominance by shifting, or was it motivated by throwing Miruna off guard? Claudia wanted to devour every secret the deity had and write them in a book to reread at her leisure. She was definitely calling her dad when this meeting was over.

"Look, I'm not here to take over your throne or attack you or whatever it is you hate about me," Lukas sighed. "I just need that ball to happen, and Liam is afraid of you in a way that he isn't afraid of me. I need him to feel pressure from the living, not from a god. Let's just say that I've been encouraged from 'headquarters' to interfere less in non crucial mortal matters."

"So we'd be doing you a favour?" Claudia asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've never had a god owe me a favour before. Could I ask you for anything in return?"

Lukas looked dismayed at the thought, which told Claudia that she was on the right track.

"Within reason. Within what I think is reasonable, which isn't a lot. I don't usually do deals, that's all Izanami's department, but it's within my power to make one. Only because you're a queen and the daughter of reapers. I don't think I've ever seen anyone brave enough to ask me for a deal before."

"Claudia...." Miruna trailed off, looking at her fiancée worriedly. "You can't trust them. Just say no and kick them out of here."

"All I have to do is get Liam to agree to the ball, and I can ask one favour from you?" Claudia asked. When the deity nodded, Claudia grinned. "Yeah, I can do that. Can I ask why you care so much about this ball?"

"Is that your favour?" Lukas replied wearily. "I don't share my motivations with mortals unless they work for me. And even then, they're better off not knowing."

Claudia quickly shook her head while Miruna groaned.

"Nope, never mind then. I'll save my favour for when I need it. Do we need to shake hands or sign something to make our deal? I have a pen around here somewhere."

Lukas paused, legitimately unsure of the proper procedure of deal making. Demons made physical contact to form deals, but Izanami hated making unneeded physical contact with anyone. Lukas' own powers were probably closer to a demon's than their husband's, but Lukas didn't feel the same pull to energy that they'd heard demons describe. They didn't need energy or souls or whatever it was that demons wanted and Izanami had only played with the mortals out of boredom.

They quickly summoned a brilliant fire into their hand and snuffed it out in a millisecond. Humans loved theatrics after all.

"There, it's done," they lied. "One favour in exchange for the Harvest Moon Ball resuming its planned schedule. I'll be back to check in on your progress later this week."

"Claudia! They're dangerous! What if they want the ball to happen to unleash something terrible? We could be helping set up a plan against Crystal Cove!"

"Life can't kill people," Claudia laughed, miming a monster attack. "My parents said so. Death, on the other hand, is scary and can kill you whenever he likes. Life doesn't operate that way. Just look at Leo Toyonaga. He works for Lukas and he's just fine. I can get Liam to reinstate the ball in an hour. Nothing bad will happen, and even if it does, you and your dad will be there to protect us."

"This is a bad idea," Miruna hissed. "What if this is all a setup for another assassination? What if they're just helping their husband get the next victims to all gather in the same place?"

"Then they'd just pick the Goldman Memorial Ball," Claudia scoffed. "All the same people will be there, and it's hosted in Twikkii Island. That's the target I'd pick if I wanted to hurt the Twikkii Island royal family."

The couple continued to bicker, while Lukas finally allowed their mind to wander. The message had been delivered, and they could go home and leave all the mortals' suspicion behind. Claudia wouldn't understand their need for the Harvest Moon Ball to continue, and they didn't feel the need to explain themselves.

True, they had partially asked for their daughter's sake, as Destiny had been crushed to hear that the ball had been canceled. They also had the selfish desire to attract attention in front of the Crystal Cove royal family and feel all eyes lock on them and the incredible outfit they would no doubt be wearing. If Claudia had pressed harder, they would have admitted those motivations to her. Their reputation would only be strengthened by the queen thinking them to be a self-involved narcissist who only cared about attention. It would make people underestimate them.

The real reason? That was a closely guarded secret. One that only Izanami could possibly guess, and even he might not understand it completely.

The mortals had stirred up memories Lukas hadn't thought about for years with their chasing after the ghosts of reapers. Each name they whispered among themselves, looking for clues, had been a person once. Nearly all of those people Lukas had known. The Demon Wars were nearly a millenia ago now, and still Lukas could picture Alicia Wenlock dancing in the grand ballroom and breaking hearts wherever she went. Victoria Evans had nearly exposed her reaper status to the entire ball after getting caught with her equally dead wife in the coat room. So many memories, both good and bad, threatened to overwhelm the deity. The Harvest Moon Ball had been a constant in their lives. Losing it to a cowardly king's choice wasn't an option.

The barriers between the living world and the dead were thinner around the time of the annual ball, which Lukas fully intended to exploit as well. If ghosts were being seen and the foundation of the universe was once again in danger, then Lukas might need to catch a stray phantom to interrogate. The ball was the perfect hunting ground. Holding the annual ball year after year without end over the span of centuries had ingrained the tradition into the lot itself. Breaking that pattern might break some of the magic Lukas was counting on. Breaking traditions that old was often dangerous.

"Dammit!" Miruna swore upon noticing that their visitor had vanished. "They're gone. What if they took something when we were talking?"

"I don't see anything out of place," Claudia replied. Her eyes narrowed now that they had privacy. "When were you going to tell me that you hate the two strongest creatures in the universe? My parents work with Life and Death. I sometimes need their cooperation when situations come up. I can't have you suddenly turning feral whenever they show up."

"I won't," Miruna responded coldly, folding her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just don't want to see you throw everything you have away. Both deities are dangerous and untrustworthy. No matter what they want, it will always be trouble. Don't trust them just because your parents think they're great. They don't know what it's like to lead a powerful nation, along with a coven. This is our world, leave the gods to theirs."

"And this has nothing to do with Arterius?" Claudia snapped. "Nothing at all about how the two of you broke up because his family didn't approve?"

Miruna's already cold shoulder grew even colder at these words.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest suite tonight," she declared. "Maybe you'll come to your senses tomorrow."

Claudia waited until the sound of footprints disappeared and then reached for her phone. Miruna was just bitter. She'd come around in a few days, but until then, Claudia had a call to make.

"Hey, Dad? We need to talk. Something bizarre just happened, and I think you're going to want to know about it. No, nothing's wrong. It's crazy, but Lukas was just in my bedroom! Yes, that Lukas. No, I don't think they took anything. Have you ever stood next to them when they changed forms? It's incredible! I'll come over tomorrow and we'll make a note of it for the archives. I think future monarchs might have an interest in more information about what Lukas is really like. It was so cool!"

[journalofimprobablethings]

Oh hey I started re-listening to Balance and I had forgotten that when they find the red robe in Wave Echo Cave that Justin asks about the robe's stats and whether he could take it and god can you just imagine if Taako had shown up at the Bureau wearing Lup's robe??

And then I wrote a thing about it.

--

Lucretia thought she was prepared for seeing her brothers again.

She's had time to build up her walls, to steel herself for what she knows will be a painful encounter. She's had a decade now of secrets and privately held regrets and memories, and she's become adept at hiding her emotions, learned how to school all the dismay and sorrow from her expression.

Even so, it takes everything in her to keep her expression neutral when the three of them walk into the room.

Magnus and Merle look in many ways like she expected--though older, ten years older; and she realizes she's never seen them age before. They've been in stasis for a hundred years, always come back each cycle looking exactly the same; but now Merle's wrinkles have deepened, and Magnus has new lines at the corners of his eyes and grey threaded through his hair, even though his body is barely thirty.

The joy and and intense sorrow she feels at the sight of them, with all the changes the past ten years have wrought, is so strong she doesn't think she can hold it inside her.

But what nearly undoes her is when Taako walks in. He looks exactly the same; elves don't age the same way humans do, or even dwarves--but for a moment she thinks--

She knows it's impossible, but for a moment, every signal is telling her brain that the elf in front of her wearing a red robe and carrying a familiar umbrella isn't Taako--it's Lup.

Then she blinks, and her brain recalibrates, and she realizes her mistake.

It's not that she has trouble telling the two apart--after a century living together, the twins lost the ability to fool the others unless they were trying very hard.

But she thinks she could be forgiven for the lapse, because the robe Taako is wearing isn't just any red robe--not some ironic twist, the universe mocking her with echoes.

It's an IPRE robe. Lup's IPRE robe.

And he's holding Lup's umbrastaff, casually slung over his shoulder like it belongs there.

Lucretia has spent any moment she could spare from her search for the Relics trying to find any trace of where Lup might have gone, and has come up empty.

Taako doesn't know what he's lost, hasn't even known to look--but somehow he's succeeded where Lucretia has failed. Clearly, at some point in their recent adventure--

He found Lup.

Or at least, he found Lup's things. What does it mean, that the robe and staff were left somewhere Taako could just pick them up? If Lup left the staff behind, does that mean--

With effort, Lucretia stops her train of thought, forcing herself to take a deep, even breath and push the roil of emotions down deep inside her. Later, she'll be able to sit and think through what this could mean.

For now, she has a part to play.

She straightens her shoulders and smiles, only leaning a little bit extra on her staff as she stands to greet them.

"Welcome, you three. Magnus, Merle, Taako. Killian has told me a lot about you and your...exploits."

She glances over at Killian, who is watching her with a sharp expression. She can't have failed to notice Lucretia's reaction to the robe when Taako walked in. Lucretia wonders what she knows about how Taako got it.

"I wanted to personally thank you for your help in retrieving the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet," she continues. "Thanks to you, an enormous danger has been removed from the world."

Magnus coughs awkwardly. Lucretia knows he's thinking about Phandolin, all those people he failed to save. "Yeah, we uh. We were happy to help."

"Does this thanks come in the form of gold?" Taako asks. "I think retreiving a super magic weapon is worth a reward, right?"

"Or a job? We were told there might be job openings here," Merle adds.

Lucretia laughs a little.

"We'll get to that in a minute," she says. She glances at Killian. "First, I--Taako, I would like to know where you got that robe? It's very--"

"Red," Killian finishes.

Taako looks down at himself. "Oh this thing? Yeah, I picked it up off some skeleton in a cave."

A yawning, empty pit opens up inside Lucretia.

"I figured, he was super dead, so finders keepers." He swoops the ends of the robe a little. "Stylish, right?"

The pit inside Lucretia yawns a little wider.

It's not that she hasn't considered the possibility--probability even--that Lup is dead. And just because her body is dead doesn't mean that she is gone.

But it's the confirmation--and Taako's cavalier description of his sister's bones--that nearly undoes Lucretia for the second time that day.

She grips her staff tight, and forces herself to keep her breathing even. She places one hand behind her back, so that the others can't see the tight fist she's balled it into.

"This was the cave where you first found the gauntlet?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

Lucretia exchanges glances with Killian.

"You all have visited Johann, correct? You've taken the voidfish's ichor?"

"You mean the fish poop?" Taako asks. "Yeah, we drank it. Not my favorite thing ever, I've gotta say."

"Yeah, it was super gross," Magnus puts in.

"Salty," Merle adds. "But I dunno, it had a kinda--"

"Oh my gods, do not--" Taako says.

"I'm just saying, it wasn't the worst thing I've ever tasted."

"Please stop."

Taako pinches the bridge of his nose, and Magnus busts out laughing. Lucretia has to steel herself against another wave of emotion as she watches the three of them banter. The familiarity aches.

She raises her voice a little to be heard over Magnus's laughter. "In that case, you've remembered the Relic Wars."

Magnus sobers instantly.

"The wars were caused by the Grand Relics: a series of extraordinarily powerful magical objects created by a group of magicians that we...refer to...as the Red Robes."

All three of the boys look down at Taako's robe.

"Oh," Merle says.

"Shit," Magnus says.

"Well," Taako says.

"It is very probable that the...the remains you found belonged to a member of that group."

"But that's good though, right?" Magnus says after a moment. "If one of them is dead--that's a good thing? Isn't it? They can't cause any more harm if they're dead."

Lucretia digs a fingernail deep into the palm of the hand behind her back.

"I'm afraid the harm the Grand Relics are capable of will long outlive the Red Robes themselves," she says. "But that's why we're here. We are doing our best to right the wrongs the Red Robes did. To remove the dangers they put into the world with the Relics. And we'd like your help."

"Sounds like a good cause," Merle says. "Does it pay?"

"It does pay," Lucretia says. "Competitively, if I say so myself."

"I'm in," Magnus says.

"Can I ask a quick question?" Taako says.

"Of course," Lucretia says. "I understand if you want more information before--"

"No, no, I'm--as long as the pay is good, I'm all on board," Taako says. "But I wanted to ask--"

He gives the robe a dramatic swish.

"Would it be in bad taste for me to keep the robe? It's just so comfy, you know? Great armor stats."

Taako gives her a shit-eating grin, and Lucretia's head swims for a moment at the image, one part of her brain telling her Lup, it's Lup, while the rest replies no it's not, it's not, she's gone, maybe forever.

She forces a small, rueful smile.

"Well, I can't deny that seeing a red robe around the Bureau regularly might cause some talk, some... discomfort. But we're not in the business of dress codes here. I'll leave it up to you."

"Great!" Taako drawls. "Can't wait to be the fashion talk of the moon!"

And Lucretia can't help but smile genuinely at that--he's still Taako, even after everything.

"Very well." She sets her staff carefully against her chair, consciously relaxes her shoulders. In her imagination, Magnus's hand rests firmly on her shoulder, Merle's a reassuring presence at her hip. The memory of Lup's voice whispers in her mind. You got this, Luce.

"If that's decided, let's get you three up to speed."

She gestures widely to the reception room, putting a little bit of the theatrical flair she learned from Taako into the gesture.

"Welcome to the Bureau of Balance."

[techav]

VCF Southwest

This was the first time I've been able to attend a VCF, and it was the first held in the Dallas area in over a decade. I was lucky enough to participate as both event staff, helping to plan and run the show, and as an exhibitor. It was exhausting, it was overwhelming at times, and I nearly lost my voice by the end of the first day ... But it was also an incredible experience and I really enjoyed it.

I brought a few of my projects to show off. First and foremost was my Wrap030-ATX project, which I paired with a Wyse WY-30 terminal I rescued from Computer Reset, and had running a demo program for printing names on my recently-repaired Apple ImageWriter II/L. Next to that was my Wrap030 board stack running a Mandelbrot fractal renderer using its 68882 FPU and video generator cards. Then came the Mac SE from Computer Reset I repaired, with my SE-VGA card driving an external monitor, and running Oregon Trail (always a crowd favorite!). Finally I had my Franken-Plus, which sadly suffered a power supply failure early on the first day and sat dark all weekend.

My exhibit was situated just down the row from @commodorez , who won the show's Best Microcomputer award for his "VICs that aren't 20" exhibit of rare and lesser-known Commodore computers. Across from Commodore-Z was Usagi Electric, who won Best in Show for his exhibit of the Centurion, a PDP-11, and his vacuum tube computer.

I had a great time talking to Commodore-Z, @ms-dos5 , Usagi Electric, Nybbles and Bytes, Macintosh Librarian, Retrotech Chris, Kevin & Michael of the Turbo 9 Team, Al Williams, and so many more wonderful people that I couldn't even begin to catch names for.

I also got to go into deep-dive discussions on very specific details about my projects with people who already knew so much more about the components and the tools that I'm using than I do. It's energizing to be around people that understand the work that goes into these projects and appreciate what I've accomplished.

The show was so much bigger than I anticipated. Including staff, volunteers, sponsors, speakers, exhibitors, and attendees, we saw nearly 900 people come through the main hall over the course of the weekend. Seminars were full, with CuriousMarc's presentation on Restoring the Apollo Guidance Computer forming an imposing line for entry well ahead of the scheduled start of the talk. We had incredible community turnout; it was great to see entire families come through with awestruck small children in tow.

There was so much to see and do, so many people to talk to. The entire weekend is just a blur. My brain is still trying to process everything from the show.

One thing does stand out though — an unbelievably generous act from someone I spoke to on Saturday about my homebrew builds and my methods for testing and debugging. This kind soul was so impressed by what I have accomplished without an oscilloscope that he bought one from the VCFSW charity auction and gave it to me on Sunday. I was so surprised I didn't think to even get his name before he disappeared into the crowd. I can't wait to put it to good use, and I hope that what I build with it lives up to his expectations.

Following VCF East earlier this year, Bil Herd said something about riding that high from VCFE, and that prompted him to agree to come out to join us at VCFSW this year. Now that I've experienced it for myself, I understand what he meant. I've been looking though all the pictures and blog posts everyone has been sharing, and catching up on recordings of the presentations I missed. Interest in some of my projects has me thinking about what I can do with them next. It's exciting.

I can't wait until next year.