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inkykeiji · 3 years

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break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you

character: zenin naoya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaaah this is my lil submission for the sewer’s soulmate syndrome collab (and my first collab ever waaah!!!) it’s a curseless soulmate AU with the tiniest hint of the zenin’s being a prominent crime family. please please heed the warnings!! | title credit: back to you by selena gomez

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, incest (reader and naoya are half siblings), mentioned death of a family member (mother), naoya being his misogynistic self, excessive use of the word ‘Daddy’ to refer to their biological father, one (1) instance of physical abuse, size kink/size difference, mentioned relationship between a university student (reader) and their TA, infidelity, one (1) mention of Daddy being yakuza, age difference, spanking done by reader’s biological father, toxic relationships, minimal prep, rough sex, a hint of degradation

words: 9.5k

synopsis:

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the very moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

It’s a few days after his twenty-ninth birthday, the night you appear—unannounced, uninvited, and an absolute fucking mess—falling into his father’s arms the moment he opens the door, fingers curling in the material of his cashmere button up and tugging as powerful sobs rip through your entire body, violent tremors following.

It’s fucking disgusting, the way his father reacts. Naoya watches the entire thing unfold from the shadows of the living room, nose wrinkled in distaste, features twisted in aversion and saturated in abhorrence.

Because his father lets you cling to him like a child—a grown woman, gripping a seventy-one year old man like a sniveling little girl—as he manages to scoop you up into his arms, collapsing onto his favourite armchair with you in his lap, hushing you gently as he rocks you back and forth, large hands stroking your shuddering back as you nuzzle your puffy, snot-stained face into his chest, wailing out Daddy!

It’s the first time Naoya’s ever seen his father behave in such a way, revolt churning his stomach as he observes the quite frankly unfamiliar man in front of him. It makes him fucking sick to watch, acidic bile rising in his throat until it stings the back of his tongue, face souring as he swallows it back down.

And you can’t even manage to force words through your stuttering breathing and hiccupped little sobs, unable to explain the situation at all without being overwhelmed by another fresh wave of tears, crashing over your body as you fall back into the sanctuary of his father’s arms, face buried in his neck, now soiled with spit and salt water.

“Naoya,” his father calls, voice curt and stern and demanding, snapping Naoya’s gaze to his own in an instant. “A glass of water, please?”

Naoya scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck do I look like to you? The help?”

And Naoya’s no stranger to the level gaze his father fixes him with, has seen that same look etched into his father’s face more times than he can count, eyebrows pinched and mouth pressed in a firm, fine line, chest rising as he inhales slowly, calmly, deeply, then exhales through flared nostrils.

“You look like a good big brother who’s on his way to get his baby sister some water,”

Ah, right, that’s who you are—the bastard, Daddy’s little mistake, an ugly, irreversible stain on their family’s prestigious name.

“That bitch is not my sister,” he grumbles as he stomps from the room and towards the kitchen to fetch you a drink, huffing under his breath about being treated like a fucking woman, yet obeying his father’s orders nonetheless.

It turns out, Naoya learns, that your mother has passed away, leaving his poor bastard of a baby sister all alone in the world, with nowhere to go—and you’ve come here to ask for shelter and food, just until you get on your feet.

It’s fucking pathetic, as far as Naoya’s concerned, shaking his head in condescending disbelief with a cruel snort. It’s almost difficult to believe that you, undoubtedly the family disgrace; you, with your dirty blood and the dishonour you haul around everywhere with you, have the balls to come crawling to his father begging for support. You’re an adult, for Christ’s sake, and you should act like one, should be out scouring the earth for some equally pathetic man to serve like you ought to, like you would have, if you knew your place. Maybe then, Naoya would have a shred of respect for you.

Maybe.

“How selfish. Daddy already pays for your tuition, why should he provide you with housing, too? Are you really that incompetent? Can’t do a thing for yourself, huh?”

Your head whips around to face him, almost as if you’re startled by his presence, by his voice addressing you directly, a sharp gasp falling from your lips the moment your eyes meet.

It’s the first time you’ve actually looked at him since you’ve arrived, the first time your gaze has connected with his, eyes bloodshot and gleaming as crystal tears stream down your cheeks, excess water clinging to spidery lashes, clumped together in spikes.

God, you’re beautiful.

It kicks him right in the motherfucking chest, hard enough that he stumbles back a few feet into the stone fireplace, a hand gripping the mantle for stability while his body caves in on itself. A spear of agony sears through his body, slicing clean through all of his vital organs as you choke out an apology punctuated with an honorific, head shaking in jerky little motions as your tongue struggles to form words to explain yourself.

And he’s never felt anything like it in his entire life, skin feeling as though it’s been set ablaze from the inside, thick black smoke filling is lungs as he wheezes on an inhale, strangled by it.

“Naoya,” his father snaps, eyes wide and scorching. “Leave.”

Each step away from the living room feels heavier than the last, as if his blood’s been replaced by lead, by rapidly drying concrete, rendering him incapable of lifting his feet from the floor, dragging them against the tile until it’s fucking painful, calves and thighs tingling as if the blood flow’s been entirely obstructed, muscles quivering and exhausted.

“It’s okay,” he can hear his father’s faint voice soothing you, each of your sniffles feeling like a sharp little thorn straight to his heart, each of your tiny I’m sorry’s carving out a vacant, phantom wound in his chest. “Shh, it’s alright, Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you,”

“Pathetic,” Naoya spits to the empty hallway, though the word wavers, catching a little in his throat, letters scraping the gummy walls as he forces them from his mouth, leaving scalding little blisters in its wake.

It’s then that Naoya decides he hates you; standing motionless in the dark hallway, feet inexplicably bolted to the floor and chest burning with some unknown emotion, a fire that blazes and rages, flares and thrashes, with each of your hitched little apologies, his teeth clenched together so tightly he’s surprised they don’t crack.

But it’s only after your sobs have calmed, father having reduced them to soft sniffles and half-hiccups through tender words and sweet affirmations, only after Naoya knows that you’ll be staying here for the night—that you’ll be safe—that he regains control over his limbs, that he rips his cement-filled feet from the floor and trudges towards his bedroom, scalding inferno dulled to simmering coals and faint flickering cinders.

He doesn’t think about it—isn’t going to think about it, refuses to waste his time or energy on such absurdity, refuses to allow his father’s preposterous decisions and ridiculous sentiments soak up space in his consciousness.

And he absolutely refuses to think about is the way your sudden presence punched a sharp gasp from his chest, the way he suddenly feels incomplete, like something’s missing, now that you aren’t within arms-reach, the way that he lost control over his entire body for the first time in his fucking life, in that hallway, just a few moments ago.

✰ ✰ ✰

His father—your father—falls in love with you almost immediately; having only met you briefly a few times before this, despite sending your mother multiple cheques every month for over twenty years.

It’s truly deplorable, positively sickening to watch the way his eyes light up when you come skipping into the living room after your afternoon university classes, dropping a fat, almost obscene kiss to Daddy’s cheek before plopping down on his lap as you chatter on about your day—about what you learned in lecture today, about the essay you got back (top of your class, of course), about your cute TA with the white hair and crystal eyes who always seems to conjure a bashful expression the moment you mention his name.

Naoya watches the entire thing unfold day after day, a deep sneer etched into his face, jaw clenched so hard it begins to ache, light eyes glaring daggers in your direction.

Something akin to jealousy, a creature with glowing emerald eyes and gnashing teeth and razor claws that slash and tear at the pit of his belly, roars and rattles the ribs that keep it caged within his chest, gnawing on the bones every time his—your—father makes you giggle, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze at him; every time lithe fingers brush hair back from your face or a large palm settles on the crown of you head, petting you gently; every time you nuzzle into his neck, curling up comfortably—perfectly—in Daddy’s big, strong arms that keep you protected from all of the bad, from all of the evils of this world, from him, the big brother that loathes you.

It’s unsettling, almost sad in a sense, seeing his father fall from grace, observing the way you decay his persona so quickly, eating away at it like corrosive acid, rotting him from the inside out; the way he morphs from one of the most powerful and feared Yakuza bosses into soft, sticky, sweet putty in your hands the moment you appear; the way your presence shatters his tough, hard exterior and renders him gentle and tender—gentler and tenderer than he’s ever behaved with Naoya or any of his older brothers.

He can’t fucking stand to watch it, despises every single thing about it, positively detests the inexplicable, uncontrollable sensations that thrash and thunder inside of him, an unusual mixture of envy and melancholy, of wrath and desire, combined to create something toxic, something hazardous, something uncontainable that erodes his senses and mind, leaking into his bloodstream and poisoning his thoughts.

Because his gaze stays glued to you the moment you enter a room, like he’s bewitched by you, cursed by you the way his father has become, unable to rip his eyes from your form until you exit.

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

And the worst part, the worst part is that he hasn’t a clue why. He doesn’t know why he feels the way he does, why you evoke such strong emotions—emotions he’s never felt before, emotions he doesn’t have a name for—or why, suddenly, everything feels wrong, off, whenever you’re not around.

It’s fucking annoying. Those tiny, raised bumps on the inside of his wrist—shaped in the form of a zodiac constellation, a mark everyone is born with, a mark that supposedly hints at your soulmate—burn and tingle as he meditates on these notions, blunt nails scratching viciously at his skin.

✰ ✰ ✰

Daddy grants you permission to stay at the estate for as long as you’d like, because of course he does, a victim to the spell you’ve cast. He even gives you your own room, helps you pick out furniture and takes you shopping for new clothes. You promise to do your share around the house—pinky swear—and, to Naoya’s immense dissatisfaction, you don’t disappoint.

No. Instead, you excel.

Those pretty little words weren’t empty promises—you begin cooking all of the meals, taking on the task to do the dishes entirely by yourself, tending to the house and the garden outside, even going as far to aid the help in their daily cleaning routines, until Daddy tells you it isn’t necessary.

And you manage to capture almost everyone’s hearts through your deeds and duties, through your kind and compassionate nature, through your being attentive and, for the most part, obedient—but most important of all, being family oriented.

You do the laundry when it needs to be done. You keep the house spotless and the kitchen sparkling. You learn everyone’s favourite dishes and then dedicate hours upon hours to perfecting them.

Naoya observes you throughout it all, sharp eyes following your movements, watching as you expertly tend to everyone’s needs, almost as if you know what they’ll require before they do.

You’d be perfect wife material, if you weren’t his sister—he catches the thought as it drifts through his mind—a sentiment that’s almost involuntary, unthinking in nature— and strangles it with his bare hands, stomps on it until it’s nothing but dust.

Because what’s more infuriating than anything else is that you are a good woman, a perfect woman, a woman who—for the most part—understands her place and duty in the household; or, at least, you did, before Daddy began spoiling you rotten.

It earns you the nickname princess from your favourite nii-san, hissed through gritted teeth with narrowed eyes and scrunched up noses, drenched in condescension and sprinkled with artificial icing sugar—a nickname Daddy irritatingly and affectionately adopts, extracting all of the patronization Naoya had imbued it with and stuffing it full of love.

You aren’t invincible, though, no matter how precious you are, how sweet your voice becomes when you bat your eyelashes and fix a pout on your lips, how much Daddy is barely able to deny you.

Because Daddy’s incessant spoiling does eventually bite him in the ass, just like Naoya knew it would.

✰ ✰ ✰

“But Daddy,” you whine, wearing your prettiest pout and cutest puppy-dog eyes, lethal weapons that are nearly foolproof, your most cherished expressions that grant you almost everything you want. “It’ll just be for a little, I promise! Just a drink or two!”

“I said no—”

“But everyone’s going! Even my professors will be there; I’m expected to show up!” Voice rising in pitch, your arms cross over your chest as eyebrows knit deeply and a lip juts out further, looking about two seconds away from stomping your foot.

Naoya would be amused, really, to see a grown woman acting like a petulant fucking child over some inconsequential party being thrown by the department, if he didn’t feel like his heart was ripping itself to pieces with your teary expression and soft half-sniffles, with the knowledge that, if you attend, you’ll be with him.

“You have an exam tomorrow,” Daddy reminds you in a sigh, dipping his head to scrutinize you over the rim of his reading glasses. “Are they not all required to write the same exam as well?”

“Well, they are, but—”

“But they didn’t spend their study break out gallivanting with their TA, did they?”

Your eyes widen for a second, shocked by the words leaving your father’s mouth, but the expression is gone in an instant, morphed into incredulousness, eyes rolling as your tongue tuts in disbelief.

“Please, we were studying,”

The chuckle that escapes your father’s lips is anything but warm; it’s cruel and condescending, a sharp slap to the face, your bottom lip beginning to tremble as he snaps his book shut, the sound echoing throughout the living room.

“You must think me a real fool,” he’s almost snickering as he throws his glasses on the coffee table, grunting a little as he stands from his armchair and raises himself to his full height, towering over you. “Do you think Daddy’s stupid?”

“What? No, of course not—”

“Then why are you lying to him?”

“I-I’m not—”

“And you’re doing it again?”

Head shaking in jerky, quivering movements, your lips open and close, emitting nothing more but little squeaks of breath as you try to backtrack, managing to stammer out an apology.

“It’s a little late for that,” your father’s saying sternly, a large hand curling around your bicep as he yanks you towards him, beginning to haul you down the hall. “Good girls do not lie to their fathers,”

Naoya sits tense and coiled in his father’s armchair, a symphony of your cries mingled with harsh slaps of Daddy’s calloused palm against your smooth skin carrying throughout the house, and he swallows thickly, past the lump that’s lodged itself in the column of his throat, past the bitter acid rising in his chest, past the irregular thumping of his heart against his ribs.

Because he doesn’t know why your wails and squeals of Daddy! M’sorry! Daddy! make his cock throb and his chest ache—ache with longing, with want and desire, with jealousy—doesn’t know why he finds himself fucking his fist to those memories that same night, mind fixated on the quick glance he had caught through the sliver of the open door when he couldn’t stand it anymore, when he had to sneak down the hallway just to make sure everything was alright, images of you thrown over father’s knees, bare ass spanked raw materializing in his head.

Or maybe he does know. Maybe he refuses to admit it. Maybe he just pretends he doesn’t, because he wishes he didn’t.

Still, you always get off fucking easy, as far as Naoya’s concerned. He’s never witnessed his father allow any woman to talk back to him with such horrid disrespect, to whine and plead and roll their eyes without a backhand so heavy, so hard it knocks them to the floor.

And yet, you receive a few measly spanks to your ass—a punishment that’s more embarrassing than anything else, terribly unfit for a grown woman—and get sent to your room for the rest of the night.

“She truly is Daddy’s Little Girl,” his mother had snarled after one particular punishment, features curled up in an unattractive sneer.

Naoya can’t help but begrudgingly agree.

✰ ✰ ✰

“Oh, lighten up,” one of his brothers nudges his foot with the toe of his slipper before collapsing next to him one abnormally cold evening in early October, interrupting Naoya’s nightly routine of glaring at you, cuddled up into Daddy’s side as you watch a show. “Just because you aren’t Daddy’s favourite anymore doesn’t mean you have to skulk around looking like you just ate a whole lemon,”

“What’re you on about,” Naoya seethes through clenched teeth, glancing at his older brother through the corner of his eye.

“You know,” he responds airily with a knowing smirk, nodding his head in your direction. “She’s taken your place, huh? Or is that not what’s upsetting you?”

And that hurts—it hurts, because he used to be Daddy’s favourite, Daddy’s youngest—the baby—Daddy’s spoiled brat. He’s used to being the center of Daddy’s attention, used to being the object of his praise, used to being the golden child, the prized child, the destined son nurtured and conditioned to take over the Family Business once his father retires.

Light eyes roll back in his skull as he tsks in disapproval, shaking his head and clearing his throat to rid the tremble from his voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Mm, I think I know more than you believe,”

The words are spoken in a murmur, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, but Naoya’s gaze snaps back to his face immediately as he calls your name, gently pulling you from the hushed conversation you were having with Daddy, full of giggles and murmurs, nonchalantly asking, “When’s your birthday?”

No.

No, Naoya wants to hiss at his pathetic excuse of a brother, large hands curling into quivering fists, nails biting into the fleshy heels of his palms as teeth grit, forcefully swallowing back down the two letter refutation.

No-no-no-no-no, he doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t need to know, throat constricting as you inhale to speak, chirpily responding.

Blood turns to thick ice in his veins when he hears your birth date, when he realizes those raised little bumps he was born with on the inside of his wrist match your zodiac sign. Heavy dread, black and poisonous and akin to thick disappointment, sinks in his chest, latching onto the floor of his stomach and spreading quickly, sticky as it engulfs all of his surrounding organs, coating them in acidic pollution.

He’s up and out of his seat before his brother has even finished asking you his next question, stumbling out of the room on unsteady legs, nearly tripping over his own ankles in his haste to get away from you, to escape.

He doesn’t want to know what the bumps on your inner wrist are, tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care, that this is all bullshit anyway, century-old myths created by the dreamers and the sentimentalists. It isn’t like the prospect hadn’t already crossed his mind—drifting through a sick orgasmic haze after fucking his fist to the memory of you—the potential that you may be his ‘soulmate’, a cruel trick played on him by the gods. Except…

Except it isn’t real. It isn’t real. There’s no science backing it up, nothing to concretely prove that the zodiac constellation embedded in his skin has anything to do with his ‘soulmate’—or anyone else’s. It’s just a legend, an old wives tale made up for the romantics and nothing else.

In his alacrity to resist it, he turns fucking ruthless in his verbal assault, but nothing seems to deter you; it barely seems to phase you at all, carrying on your tasks or your cute little babbling as if he hadn’t just insulted you.

Because you’re incessant, almost desperate to gain his approval, continuing to treat him like a god—doing more for him than you do for anyone else, including Daddy—regardless of how many how many expletives and offensive sentiments he hurls at you.

And eventually, he goes a little too far.

✰ ✰ ✰

The night before Halloween is dark and dreary, thick grey clouds stuffed with rain that continuously drizzles over the estate, brutal winds whipping the tiny droplets against the windowpanes, tiny specks and splatters of water decorating the glass, rearranging themselves every time the wind throws another smattering of rain towards them.

You skip into the living room, full of bashful giggles and muted squeals as Daddy fawns over you, awestricken as he murmurs about how beautiful his princess looks.

His princess.

Naoya’s not quite sure what you’re supposed to be, nor does he care, tearing his gaze from your scantily clad form before his brain can even register what the costume is, before blood can rush to his cock, before he can witness the shy little smile on your lips and the pretty way your eyes glitter as you twirl for Daddy.

No, the only thing Naoya cares about is the fact that the dress of your costume is way too short to be considered decent, fluffy petticoat barely covering your ass, fanning out to reveal the edges of dainty pink lace clinging to the supple flesh of your ass as you twist and turn.

And he hasn’t a clue what you’re chattering on about, isn’t listening, can’t hear anything over the roar of blood rushing in his ears as he stands from his seat and stomps towards you, strong, callous voice cutting off your excited babbling as he glowers expectantly at his father.

“Jesus Christ, Daddy, you aren’t actually going to let her go out in that, are you?”

“Why?” you ask before your father can respond, genuinely confused, head tilting cutely. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he repeats incredulously, thick eyelashes fluttering as he blinks several times, eyebrows raising and huffing out a sarcastic laugh in disbelief. “Are you joking?”

Your head shakes slowly, a frown beginning to materialize on your lips as your eyebrows knit.

“It’s entirely inappropriate,” he scoffs, enunciating his words slowly, like you’re stupid.

You stare up at him cautiously, bottom lip jutting out in a pout so deep your chin puckers. “But nii-san, it’s Halloween—”

“Oh? And what are you going as, a slut?”

A little strangled gasp of Naoya-nii! hitches in your throat, your entire expression crumpling at his disapproval, hands running over the costume in an almost protective manner, smoothing it down.

“N-No, I’m—”

“I don’t care,” he hisses. “There’s no way you’re leaving the house in that—go change. Now.”

The direct order surprises you, shock saturating your features before resentment begins to bleed through. Blinking hard, you force the tears from your eyes, expression hardening and shoulders rolling back, spine straightening.

“No.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Is there something wrong with your hearing? I said no,”

That sharp, self-assured smile drops from his face in an instant, face screwing up from such defiance, such disrespect. “Excuse me?”

Shivers skitter up your spine, tiny spikes of ice chasing them, but you refuse to back down, even though your voice is beginning to quiver.

“Y-You’re not Daddy! You don’t get to tell me what to do, I don’t care if you’re older!”

And just like that, the sharp smile is back, stretched abnormally wide across his lips—like it had been cut, carved, into his handsome face—uncanny and inhuman as his eyes glint with malevolence, words flowing from his mouth slowly, calmly, almost serenely, as he prowls towards you.

“You’re right—I’m not Daddy, because I would never let a woman speak to me the way he allows you to speak to him, you ungrateful little brat,”

A large hand, decorated with chunky, glittering gold rings, cuts through the air, striking you across the cheek with such force you stumble backwards from the impact, nearly tripping over your own feet only to have Daddy wrap a strong arm around your waist, catching you with ease and pulling you to his chest.

And it’s intense, so intense it kicks the breath right from your chest, barreling up your throat where you choke on it as it tangles with a sharp yelp. Hands fly to clutch your cheek immediately, throbbing thorns of pain shooting through the side of your face.

Daddy’s yelling, but it all sounds muddled, muffled, like your deep underwater and he’s shouting from above the surface, despite the fact that you’re clinging to him, pressed up so tightly against his side you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his body.

Naoya-nii isn’t saying anything, hand dropped limply to his side, pretty gold adorning his fingers coated in gleaming crimson. He isn’t even looking at Daddy—no, his gorgeous light eyes are focused on you, on the sticky scarlet leaking from the wounds his rings left when they collided with your cheek and the glistening tears shielding your eyes.

And for once, he has nothing to say, no sarcastic remarks or cynical little comments, voice evaporating in his throat as his chest burns, scathed with regret, remorse, repentance—all unwarranted, undeserved, unnecessary. Because—because you earned that slap for being so fucking disrespectful; you needed it, were practically begging him to put you back in your place, back where you belong: below him, behind him, and never beside him.

Because no matter how cute you are, how sweet and precious and good, none of it permits you to speak to him in such a manner, to act as though you’re equal.

So why has this inexplicable agony taken root at his core? Why does he feel like his heart is mutilating itself, tearing itself to shreds, with each of your pitiful little whimpers? Why does he feel the overwhelming urge to make it better, to make your pretty tears and precious sobs stop?

Inevitable anger surges through his veins—furious at you, for eliciting such bothersome emotions; furious at himself, for being so weak, so vulnerable, and allowing such pathetic sentiments to take over, to rob him of his control, of his autonomy.

And despite everything, all of his rage and loathing and confusion, his hand buzzes from it, from the sensation of touching your soft skin for the very first time, even in such a brutal and malicious manner, and instantly, he craves more.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t speak to him after that. You stop making his favourite meals, stop asking him about his day and then uninvitedly reciting your own in that cute, excited chatter that is so distinctly you, stop doing all of those extra little chores—washing his clothes and changing his sheets and scrubbing his bathroom until it sparkles. You put an end to everything.

And he fucking misses it.

He shouldn’t, but he does.

It’s painful to admit, but he can’t ignore it, notices your lack of presence almost immediately, that gaping void spreading, growing, as it roars in protest, claiming more and more of his body every day, like some sort of inky disease that only your presence seems to calm, to cure.

It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks, because he can’t stop it, regardless of how hard he tries, an impossible ailment he can’t void himself of. It fucking sucks, because you’re eating him up, consuming his very soul, devouring him from the inside out without even sparing him a goddamn glance—and you don’t even know it.

And it’s getting exhausting, putting up this front all the time, fighting against the intense feelings you swirl around in his chest, in his cock, without a hope, without a chance in hell. Fighting for nothing, because he knows he’ll never win. Fighting for nothing, because he isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

They’re unruly, voracious and rabid, tearing up his chest, his lungs and his heart and his throat, with sharp piercing claws and becoming increasingly difficult to overlook, to disregard.

Still, he’s too stubborn, too proud, to give in, to give up, even though the thing living inside him grows stronger every day, even though he knows that one day, it will overpower him.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s windy—the estate quiet as the wind howls softly through the dense pines outside and ruffles them—the night it finally does, the night it takes over entirely, bursting through the barriers he keeps rebuilding and repairing around his soul and his sanity, writhing inside him when he hears soft sobs, muffled by the wood of your bedroom door, just past three in the morning.

It possesses him, like some sort of eternal spirit sinking deep into his bones and sewing itself into his soul, revoking his control over his body as a sudden, intense need to comfort you, to find out what’s wrong and make it all better, courses through his veins, entirely unaware of his actions as he pushes past the door and into your room.

“Naoya-nii?”

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him, the first time you’ve even looked at him, since he struck you.

And he aches to apologize, I’m sorry’s and I shouldn’t have done that’s blistering his throat as they linger, just behind the back of his tongue.

But his pride outweighs them by a hair, despite how much his chest stings with the need to make things better, to make things right, for a reason unbeknownst to him. It’s just a sense—vague in meaning but strong in feeling—that longs for reconciliation, that’s desperate to rid your pretty face from the permanent scowl his presence etches into it.

That’s the first time he creeps into your room, the first time he loses his autonomy to the thing inside of him as he takes you into his arms and comforts you, the first time he allows you to cum from grinding on his cock.

Except it becomes a habit, an addiction, a nightly routine, cravings becoming stronger and stronger with each passing night. And for a brief span of time, it’s enough to appease the creature, the short nights spent with you in his arms, body trembling against his as you whimper out his name and his honorific, tangling on your tongue.

Because it feels right. It feels righter than anything in his life ever has, uncharacteristically gentle hands guiding your hips as they rock against his, soaked cunt gliding over the flannel of his pajama pants with ease as you huff out the prettiest little mewls into his neck.

It feels right only when he’s here with you, alone with you. Suddenly, it’s like everything makes sense again, like the world is in colour again, like the planet balanced again. He can no longer deny this feeling, this ache deep at the very pit of his soul that throbs and stings and burns mercilessly without your presence. You’re the only thing that can heal it, that can quell it, that can complete it.

So he gives in. It’s just for the nights, he promises himself, vows never to allow such sentiments to trickle into the daytime, to save it for when the sun sinks beneath the horizon, pledges never to permit these nightly escapades to advance from anything more than dry humping, nothing further than your cum on his fingers and your thighs stained with sticky cream.

But eventually, that isn’t enough, either.

And he was stupid to think it would be.

✰ ✰ ✰

The harsh slap of Testoni loafers against stone echoes out among the immaculately landscaped front yard, bouncing off thin tree trunks and being absorbed by tall, thick shrubs. Silver light, cast by the haloed moon hanging high in the clear navy sky, illuminates the garden, the foliage faded and washed out, painted by the moonbeams. Somewhere in the distance, the gentle trickle of water mingles with Naoya’s harsh breaths, cellphone gripped tightly in one fist as he paces back and forth like a rabid dog, small rocks popping under his feet.

It’s late. It’s too late—you were supposed to be home hours ago. Naoya’s tried calling—seven times, now, his phone buzzing in his palm to warn him of a low battery—but you haven’t picked up once. But that isn’t new, nor is it unusual; you rarely answer his calls while you’re out with Satoru.

So, really, this shouldn’t be cause for alarm. It shouldn’t.

Except he knows the man you’re out with, knows what you’re doing with him, and he can’t get it out of his fucking head, assaulted with fabricated images of you trapped under a large man with ivory hair and crystal eyes, back arching in ecstasy, his name leaving your lips in the prettiest gasps, in the way Naoya’s name leaves your lips during his habitual sneaking into your room in the middle of the night.

He’s terrified it’s going to drive him insane, eyes pricking and throat burning as his nose twitches with the threat of tears, eyelids shut so tightly his whole face scrunches up, tense and crumpled every time a new wave of contrived memories of you cumming all over that asshole’s cock crash over his mind.

Copper stings his tongue as sharp front teeth nibble at the raw cuticles surrounding his nailbed, face puckering at the taste and ripping his thumb, glistening with saliva, from his mouth.

This is pathetic, goddamn it! It shouldn’t even matter who you’re with and what you’re doing with them, shouldn’t be any of Naoya’s concern at all whether you’re safe or not, shouldn’t fucking hurt nearly as much as it does, a heavy ache that weighs on his chest more and more and more as each second ticks by, ribs caving in and splintering under the force, snapping into sharp spikes that puncture his lungs and make it painful to breathe.

“This is such a waste of fucking time, I don’t even—” he’s muttering to himself when you step out of Satoru’s car, his internal monologue beginning to leak from his head out his lips, your presence immediately cutting it off as his head snaps up, light eyes paler than normal, practically glowing in the moonlight.

A startled little whimper pries its way past your lips when you see him, stomping towards you with a heaving chest and a growl ripping from his throat.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he’s seething as a large hand seizes your arm, wrapping around your bicep and yanking, bring your face closer to his. “Huh? Do you know what fucking time it is?”

Frenzied eyes search your face, wild and erratic in their movements, sharply zeroing in on the tiny galaxies of swirling lilac and cobalt peppered with little pinpricks of scarlet that’ve been sucked into the flesh of your neck.

He chokes on something—a gasp or a snarl or a sob, maybe a mixture of all three, you aren’t entirely sure—pearly teeth gnashing together. “You’re a little slut,” he spits the word out like venom, harsh and biting as it whizzes past your cheek, slicing into your skin.

“That’s it, that’s all—that’s all you’re fucking good for,” his grip tightens with each word that flows from his mouth. “At least you’ve picked a rich man to sell your pussy to, at least you aren’t a total idiot, just like your mother, huh?”

“What is your problem?” little hands claw at the fingers latched around you, finally breaking free from him, ripping your limb from his grasp with such vigor you nearly fall on your ass, teetering backwards on unsteady feet. “You know, just because you can’t own up and face your feelings, doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. This,” you gesture between the two of you. “Isn’t my fault.”

“This?” he spits, face screwing up in scorn. “There is no this,”

“Oh my God,” eyes rolling, you shake your head, exhaling a dubious laugh. “Shut up. There’s no one here—you can be real with me, I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you snark, arms crossing over your chest as you level your gaze with him.

He glares back at you, sharp jaw rhythmically clenching and unclenching with the grinding of his molars, large hands balled into tight, trembling fists on either side of his body.

“You know there’s something here, between us, within us, even if you refuse to admit it,” you continue after a beat of silence, voice softening.

His whole form is beginning to quiver and he jerkily shakes his head, exhaling harshly. You think he may be crying, but in the faint moonlight it’s hard to be sure.

Holding your wrist up, you swallow thickly, glancing at those little bumps embedded in your skin, watching the tiny shadows that form when your arm twists. “I have your sign,” your voice is quiet as you look back at him, flashing the inside of your wrist to him. “And I know you have mine,”

A cynical smirk spreads across his lips, but it looks more like a grimace, like a flimsy mask desperately attempting to cover something else, tongue tutting in disbelief. “Yeah, and there’s millions of people in this world with any given sign. It’s all bullshit—it could be anyone,”

“It could be anyone,” you agree, nodding. “But it isn’t.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! I know you feel it too! Christ, why are you so—so adamant on denying this, even when it’s just the two of us? What’s the point?”

“You’re my fucking sister, that’s the point. This is inappropriate, it’s wrong,”

“If it’s so wrong, then why do you sneak into my bedroom every night? Why do you let me cum on your fingers? Why do you fuck my thighs?” your footsteps speed up, jogging a little to catch up to him. “Huh? Huh? No answer? Or do you know the answer, and you’re too afraid to say it?”

“I don’t know!” he explodes, whirling around on you and trapping you against the brick, palms laid flat against the wall. “Alright? I don’t fucking know why I do those things. They make me feel sick afterwards, but I…”

But I can’t stop.

But I need you.

But I love you.

Chests heave with harsh exhales that mingle and echo in the garden, your eyes studying his face intently, in a way that makes him feel naked, exposed, makes him want to turn and hide from you.

“I’m not asking—” you start, words catching in your throat and blinking hard to clear rapidly welling tears from your eyes. Your voice is softer, more fragile and weak, when you speak again. “You don’t have to marry me, for Christ’s sake. I just—I just want you to—I need to know you feel it too,”

“Why?” he hisses, acidic envy bubbling in his chest, beginning to erode his resolve, walls crumbling to rubble. “What is there to know? You already have him,”

“But I’d rather have you,” the words materialize on your tongue before you even know what you’re saying, earnest eyes boring into his.

“God, don’t—” eyelids shut tightly, lithe fingers tangling in blonde hair and tugging. “Don’t say shit like that,”

He can feel them, those three little words thrashing in his chest, desperate to claw up his throat and spill from his lips, but he grits his teeth and swallows them back down, letters lodging and forming a painful lump.

And you notice. You notice, because you’ve studied him extensively, have learned to read him—his mannerisms, expressions, behaviours—well.

And you’ve just found his weakness.

“Do you want to know what I think of when he fucks me?” you ask, eyes searching his face in an almost frenzied manner, breath accelerating as you quickly push the words from your lips, worried if you don’t speak fast enough, if you don’t vocalize these sentiments now, you’ll lose him again. “It’s you. It’s always you. I’ve tried—I’ve tried to think of someone else, of anyone else, but you just…you just won’t leave my brain! It’s like a—a sickness, or something. Like a chronic illness, and it’s only getting worse,”

A strangled growl rattles in his chest as he tears himself away from you, fists violently rubbing at his eyes.

He knows. He knows, because he’s tried the same thing, attempted to desperately forget you, to disintegrate the weird feelings you endlessly evoke in his chest by losing himself in women night after night, often multiple women at once, drowning himself in their moans and gasps and soft bodies to no avail.

“There’s no cure,”

He doesn’t even mean to say it, words slipping from his lips unconsciously as he gets tangled in his thoughts, flipping through the countless memories of faceless women of all shapes and sizes, faceless woman that somehow always mange to morph into you.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. “There isn’t. But at least I’m trying!”

He spins around, gleaming eyes flashing, brimming with bewilderment, features falling in surprise for just a moment before they harden again, varnished in offense.

“What’re you talking about,” he seethes, eyebrows furrowing deeply as his eyes narrow into sharp slits, scrutinizing, analyzing, dissecting.

“I-I’d rather have you, yes, and he’ll—no one will ever compare, will ever even come close to how much I—” you cut yourself off, swallowing the thought, then clearing your throat and beginning again. “At least I’m trying to find someone, though. At least I’m trying to find just a shred of what I feel for you, instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, alone and miserable,”

“Oh,” he laughs humorlessly, a callous little sound that viciously tears from his chest, that scrapes his throat and comes out strangled, full of incredulity. “You don’t think I’ve tried? You don’t think I’ve tried endlessly to forget you? To cleanse you from my mind? To move the fuck on from something that had never begun in the first place? You’ve imprinted yourself in the tissues of my fucking brain in a matter of months. It’s tiring. It’s hopeless,”

His voice breaks on the last word, some of the merciless heat fading from his features as he glares at you, eyes almost pleading for you to understand.

Because you’re the only one that can.

You’ve been in this together the entire time, right from the start, from the moment you walked through that front door.

And he’s been resisting it, fighting against it, against himself, all while the current only becomes stronger, only continues to grow in strength and size, and he’s motherfucking exhausted at this point, sick of battling some invisible force he was convinced didn’t even exist, sick of waging a war he will forever be destined to lose.

You’ve broken that wall, shattered it to dust, destroyed all of his weapons of defense and robbed him of his sovereignty, and now it’s all pouring form his mouth, an endless, uncontrollable stream of confessions, of thoughts and desires, of agony and misery.

“But it doesn’t even fucking matter, because I love you. I love you and I fucking hate you for it. And I’ve been trying, alright? I’ve tried not to, I’ve tried every single trick in the fucking book to stop it, to get over you, to forget you—and none of it has ever fucking worked, not even for a second. I don’t want you; I—I don’t want to be, but I’m in love with you,”

It looks as though your breathing has ceased, chest halting in its rapid movements, body gone still, static, stagnant. Your silence is deafening, has his ears ringing and his heart pounding, thrashing against his ribs as it aimlessly attempts to crawl through the cage, to present itself to you, bloody and beating and all yours. It’s all yours—take it, kill it, end its suffering.

“And there’s nothing—”

Surging forward, your lips crash into his, body following as it smacks against his own, effectively cutting him off. Naoya freezes, eyes wide and breathing stopped, entire body turned to ice, rigid and tense, but you are not deterred, arms winding around his neck as fingers thread through the gold and ink at the base of his skull.

“I love you, too,” you mumble into the kiss, refusing to break contact for even a second, lips brushing his as you speak. “I love you so much,”

The confession—an admission he already knew, deep down in his very bones, an admission he can no longer ignore, now that you’ve said it—snaps him out of his trance, and something switches, something breaks. Because then he’s kissing you back, tongue forcing its way through your lips to assault your own as calloused hands find purchase on your hips, squeezing your flesh hard enough that you yelp.

He chuckles against your lips, and then he’s pushing forward, forcing you to walk backwards, too fast for you to keep up, his legs longer than yours, body bigger than yours, stronger than yours.

Even with all of his shoving, you still aren’t moving quick enough for him, clumsy and stumbling over your own feet, whimpering hushed apologies into his mouth, a response to the growls that rumble in his chest each time you trip, your pitiful little sorry!’s consistently being cut off by his tongue.

Large hands hoist you up without breaking the kiss, mouth still attempting to devour you whole, to suck up your very soul, and your legs automatically wrap around his waist, latching onto him.

Either of your bedrooms are too far, and he can’t take it, he can’t wait—not with the way your fingers are tangling in his shirt and tugging, the way needy little whines are hitching in your throat, the way you’re squirming in his grasp, trying to grind against his half-hard cock.

You’re fucking desperate, but so is he, thigh whacking off the edge of the wooden coffee table as he blindly staggers towards the kitchen, tongue hungrily dragging against yours while he does so.

The cold marble stings your skin as he deposits you onto the nearest countertop, hips wedged between your thighs keeping them spread.

Little fingers immediately go for his belt, nonsensical whimpers sounding in the back of your throat as you fumble and struggle, hooking your fingers through his beltloops and pulling.

“Eager girl,” he chastises, a little breathless as nimble fingers find the soaked lace at the apex of your thighs, pushing it to the side. “Nii-san has to prep you first,”

“No,” you whine, pitched high and much too loud. “M’wet enough. Want you, want you now, nii-san, please, just give it to me, been waiting so long, please,”

The words are slurred together as they tumble from your lips, infused with a potent lust that casts a dense haze over your mind, rendering you capable of only focusing on what you need.

Light eyes dart up, holding yours through fanned lashes for a moment, as if they’re searching for any hesitancy, before his lips form the most genuine smile he’s ever given you.

“Yeah?” he huffs out, finally breaking your stare to watch his hands undo his belt, continuing to speak as he shoves his jeans down his thighs and frees his cock. “You think you can take it?”

“Yes, nii-san,” you nearly mewl, gazing at him with blown, glazed eyes and a cute pout. “Please, give it to me, I-I want it, please,”

His gaze finally flicks up, that sincere smile stretched wider across his face, a playful glint in his eye, voice void of any of its usual derision. “You want what? Hmm, baby? Come on, nii-san wants to hear you say it,”

A low whimper leaves your throat and you shift on the countertop, as if trying to wiggle closer to him. “Your cock, nii-san, want your cock, please-please-please, gimme-gimme-gimme,”

It sounds as though you’re close to tears, voice cracking and thick with desire, Naoya’s cock twitching in his palm in response to the sound, and, God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that, absolutely adores it when you beg, thinks you sound so pretty when you’re pleading for him.

“You’re a greedy little girl, you know that?” he pants while he pushes in, a muffled yelp prying past your lips. “Shh, hush now, nii-san will give you what you need,”

The stretch is incredible, cute little cunt throbbing around his thick cock as it struggles to adjust to the sudden intrusion, feeling as though he’s going to tear you into two, leaving stinging micro-fissures in the delicate flesh.

Yet despite the burn, the ache that settles deep in your core, that feels like he’s splitting you in half, a satisfied moan leaves your lips, head falling forward and resting against his broad shoulder, fingers curling in the cotton that adorns his torso and pulling him closer, closer, closer.

Because, finally, you feel whole, more whole than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, satisfying an inexplicable desire buried at the crux of your very soul, something you didn’t even realize you were missing until you finally had it.

“S’not enough,” you mumble into him, nuzzling your face against him like a cat. “Need more, nii-san, need more,”

“You really are a selfish little fucking brat,” he grunts as fingers flex on your hips, tips digging into the pliant flesh and gripping, singeing his name into your skin in rapidly blossoming indigo and ultramarine.

“Nii-san was going to try and be nice,” the words, strained and husky, spill from plush lips as his hips begin to thrust, slow and hard, winding back as they draw the force to ram forward, slamming a cry from your chest as his cockhead pounds against your cervix. “But you’re too impatient for that, aren’t you?”

It’s a fucking lie; his self-control had been hanging by a thread, barely restraining the primal need to wildly buck into you, but you just snapped it, just tore the last of his treasured discipline to fucking shreds with nothing more than a few words.

The pace is ruthless, your head bouncing off the cabinets with each powerful snap of his hips, an endless stream of cries pouring from your lips, one hand curling around the edge of the counter as the other grips his shoulder, nails burying themselves in the hard muscle through the thin cotton of his shirt. Sharp bones carve a spot just for him, made for him, between your legs, into the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he pants out, eyes so bright they’re practically glowing. “Mine.”

“Yours!” you gasp out, head nodding in sloppy little movements against his shoulder as you fall forward, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Yours, yours, yours,”

Everything feels hazy, almost dreamlike in a sense, vision blurring over with a thick shield of tears that you can’t quite explain, his name and the honorific becoming muddled on your tongue, fusing into one as you wail it out, clinging to him in a way that’s almost possessive.

“Nii-san’s here,” he promises you, voice hoarse. “Nii-san’s yours, too,”

“Mine,” the arms thrown around his neck tighten, fingers tangling in soft gold and wrinkled cotton. “Mine, mine, mine—”

“Mine,” he echoes, hips never faltering even as you wind your body around his, large hands keeping your hips still as he fucks into you. “And only mine—”

“Forever and ever and ever—”

“You belong to me, were made for me, put on this earth for me,”

Words of confirmation are escaping from your lips, you’re absolutely sure of it, can feel them vibrating up your throat as you speak them—but it’s so much, too much, all of the feelings swirling around in your chest, sending spikes of pleasure and thorns of pain shooting through your veins as they clash together. A sudden wooziness settles over you, brain fogging over as he becomes the only thing you can think of, the only thing you want to think of, nonsensical babbling still slipping from between parted lips in hitched puffs of breath.

“So full,” you nearly sob, one of Naoya’s hands tangling in the hair at the back of your skull and yanking, pulling your face from the sanctuary of his neck and exposing your expressions to his scrutinizing eyes, devouring the beautiful tears streaking your cheeks, the contorting of your features as pleasure washes over them. “M’so full, nii-san, it’s so much,”

“Yeah? Better than he could ever stuff you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re wailing out, affirmations falling from your lips with each brutal piston of his hips. “More, need more,”

Because it’s like an addiction, an innate need for more of him, for all of him, ravenous and unquenchable, that’s always existed within you, that his cock stretching you out, filling you up, has only just awakened.

His aura is positively intoxicating, overwhelming your senses and becoming all you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell, taste, touch. His taste lingers on your tongue, faint notes of minty pine and sharp nicotine dancing with your tastebuds; his touch brands itself into you, bruises and bitemarks carving his name into soft skin; his scent assaults you, envelops you, overpowers everything else as it wraps you in a shackled embrace of expensive aftershave and cedar wood.

A growl tears from his chest, so rough that it vibrates throughout his entire body, and his pace quickens, cock plunging into you and an incredible speed, dragging against that one spot that has you nearly screaming, that has your eyes rolling back and your little hole fluttering around him as a blistering fire sparks to life in the pit of your belly.

You can feel it, furling in on itself with each vicious rut of his hips, each relentless bang of his cockhead against your cervix, a concentrated ball of scathing heat pulsing, quaking in your stomach as it curls tighter and tighter and tighter with each plunge forward—until it bursts, a fiery explosion that buzzes through your veins as your cunt clenches, gushing on his cock as he praises you—yeah, that’s it, make a mess on nii-san—entire body coiling from the sheer strength.

“Tell me,” he keens almost desperately, voice pulling you from the clutches of post-orgasm unconsciousness, hips stuttering for a moment before he regains his finesse. “Tell me how badly you need it,”

And you don’t need to be told what, pleads pouring from your mouth in an instant, before your brain can even comprehend what you’re saying, an instinctual reaction to his command. “Need your cum, nii-san, need you to full me up, fill my tummy with it, stuff me full of it, need it so bad, nii-san, please gimme your cum, please, please,”

The words are all jumbled together, thick with tears and wet with saliva and imbued with delirium, quivering and breaking as your body trembles from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he chokes on the curse, hips stilling, pressed flush against your ass as his cock throbs, filling you with spurt after spurt of thick cum, a broken whine catching in his throat as endless words spill from yours, peppered with the sweetest moans—yes, nii-san, thank you, nii-san, fill me up, fill my body with it, my brain with it, I need it, I need it.

And he does, pumps you full of so much that it begins leaking out from your abused little hole—still stuffed with him—and down his cock.

And it’s then—after he has filled you up, with your precious little cunt still pulsing around his length, whimpering out his honorific as you hold onto him, voice raw and wrecked and cracking with residual tears—then that Naoya’s sure you were meant for him, made for him, perfectly tailored to him; he knows you were, his very own gift from the gods.

#zenin naoya x reader #zenin naoya smut #jjk smut #zenin naoya #zen'in naoya #tw:incest #tw death #tw toxic relationship #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #WAAAAAAH FINALLY HE IS DONE HEHEHE YAAAAY #whew okay

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yellowsuitcase · 4 years

Text

In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 3 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited for y’all to read this. This series has gained a lot of traction and tbh it’s a bit scary but I really hope you guys like this. There WILL be a Part 4 and it WILL be the FINAL part! Look forward to it! Thank you so much!

Summary: Y/N deals with the aftermath of her breakup and Draco comforts her. The pair grow closer and Draco can’t ignore his feelings, but is Y/N able to accept them?

Warning(s): Swearing, mention of breakup, lots of crying, violence

Word Count: 3.8k

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

{Not my gif}

Y/N didn’t know where Harry had gone. Three hours had passed, and he'd never come back to his dorm. Y/N knew she ought to leave. She couldn’t stay in his room, not anymore. Luckily, it was Saturday, which meant no classes. Y/N slid off Harry's bed, the same one they'd cuddled on almost every week, and walked over to his mirror. Her reflection didn’t surprise her; her hair was knotted, and her eyes were bloodshot from all the tears. They hadn’t ceased until an hour after Harry left. While letting out an exhausted sigh, Y/N rubbed her hands down her face. She just felt so disappointed in herself. And not to mention her newfound sense of loneliness. It was crippling.

But when she felt well enough, she stepped away from the mirror, walked through the wooden door, and all the way down the familiar stone steps. The closer she got, the louder the voices were. Of course, she thought. It's Saturday; it makes sense that everyone would be in the common room. Once Y/N was near the last few steps, she could see fellow Gryffindors hanging out by the fire while others were doing their schoolwork. But when Y/N emerged into the room, all conversations quieted, and all eyes turned to her. It seemed as though word of the breakup had already reached their ears. She did her best to block out the whispers and avoid eye contact with anyone as she continued walking to her bedroom. Once she arrived, she was surprised to find that her roommate was inside.

“Oh, there you are. I was wondering when you’d be back,” she said. Y/N stood still in the doorway for a moment, debating whether or not to reply. Ultimately, she decided she didn't have the energy to fake a smile. Instead, she stumbled to her bed and collapsed on top of it, face first. “Did you get breakfast?” her roommate, Stephanie, asked. Y/N groaned in reply. Of course, she didn’t get breakfast; she wouldn’t be able to stomach anything in such a state. Stephanie stood near Y/N's bed, wondering if she should say or do something. Eventually, she decided she was uncomfortable with the tension in the air. “Well, I have some Charms homework, so... I’ll just… leave you to it,” she said awkwardly. Y/N heard her footsteps, then the sound of their door opening and closing. Tears instantly rushed to her eyes. Not even her roommate wanted to be around her. And based on the reaction of the students in the common room, nobody did. But Y/N couldn't blame them; she wouldn't want to associate with a cheater either.

The Gryffindor turned over on her plush mattress, her back now pressed against it. Upon opening her eyes, she noticed she’d stuck a photograph of her and Harry onto the ceiling. A jolt of pain struck her chest, but she forced herself to her feet and jumped. Her legs propelled her high enough to rip the picture down in one swift motion. It felt heavy in her palms. She breathed in shakily as she examined it. Her head was on Harry’s shoulder in the photo, and his arm was around her waist. It was from one of their trips to Hogsmeade earlier that year. The Y/N in the picture was smiling brightly as Harry squeezed her tight. Y/N gripped the paper, and with tears falling from her eyes, she ripped it down the center. The sound of it caused a painful cry to escape her lips. But once her hands stilled and she saw the destruction clutched in them, her suppressed anger took over. Forcefully, she put the pieces on top of one another and ripped through them again. And again. She kept going until the image of her and Harry was reduced to tiny little shreds of paper.

Y/N then cried for a couple minutes, wetting the shreds with her tears as she mourned what once was. But when she got a hold of herself, she clutched the pieces in one hand and slid off her bed. Stephanie had left the windows open, so Y/N walked over to them and stuck out her closed fist. With a heavy heart, she opened her palm and watched as the pieces scattered into the wind.

When all of them were out of sight, Y/N grasped the windows' handles and pulled them towards her, shutting out the late morning air. Defeatedly, she sunk into the seat below the windows and breathed in a shaky breath. She felt so broken, so stupid. Even though Harry hadn’t been the perfect boyfriend, Y/N knew she was the one who fucked up; she was the one who cheated. And despite everything that happened between them, Harry didn’t deserve that. Not at all.

--------

Later on in the day, Y/N’s hunger finally got the best of her, so she dragged herself out of bed and cleaned herself up. She threw on a comfy sweater, a simple pair of sweats, and pinned her hair back with some clips. It was late in the afternoon, surely the Great Hall would be nearly empty as it was Saturday. At least, that was what Y/N was hoping for. The idea of the entire school staring at her made her feel uneasy. But she shook the thought away, grabbed her wand, and headed out the door. The people in the common room, once again, looked up upon her arrival but said nothing. Y/N could feel their judging stares on her back as she rushed through the archway, closing the Fat Lady portrait behind her.

The hallways were pretty deserted, save for a few wandering Slytherins. They were always rather fond of slinking around corridors. Y/N paid them no mind as she walked down the stairs to the Great Hall. It was, as she suspected, nearly empty. The Gryffindor table was clear except for some first years. Y/N started to walk towards it when her elbow was grabbed. She instinctively whipped around and wrenched her arm from the person’s grip. Her heart clenched when she saw who it was.

“Hey… I heard about you and Potter,” Draco said. He looked sheepish as he fiddled with a loose thread hanging from his dark green sweater.

“Is that all?” Y/N almost whispered, her voice scratchy from all her crying.

Draco’s eyes seemed sad when they met hers. “I… don’t know what to say. But I do know that if I were you, I’d want someone to check up on me, so...” he paused, looking away from her. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. Y/N stared at him for a moment. She was not expecting those words to come out of Draco Malfoy’s mouth, but when they did, and when they registered, she couldn’t stop the sob that fell from her lips.

Draco froze in shock. He had definitely not been expecting the girl to burst into tears right in front of him. But now that she was, his instincts screamed at him to comfort her. It was just...he didn’t quite know how. Draco was unfamiliar with girls. All he knew was how to have sex with them, and usually, that was a fun activity with no strings attached. Well, except with Y/N. Something about her was simply different from the others. The first time they did the deed, he’d pushed away the fuzzy feeling in his chest. The second time, however, he cleaned her. He cleaned her. Usually, he’d leave the girl to do that on her own time, but for some reason, with Y/N, he had taken it upon himself to fulfill that gesture. And not to mention the fact he kissed her. Twice! Granted, they were only on her temple, but they were still kisses for Merlin's sake.

But here he was, facing the girl responsible for all his confusing emotions, and she was crying. Draco glanced around the hall and noticed people beginning to stare. He shot them mean glares without thinking twice. They averted their eyes. When he turned back to Y/N, he found that she was looking at him. Her eyes held so much sadness that they made Draco’s heart physically hurt when he looked into them. So he did what his mother would always do when he cried. He lifted his arms and gently took Y/N into them. She hesitated at first but then buried herself into his chest, still heaving heavily with sobs. Draco rubbed her back in a soft, soothing motion. But then he quickly remembered where they were, so he put down his right arm, leaving his left on her back, and led them out of the Great Hall.

Once in the corridor, Draco wasn’t sure where to take Y/N. He couldn’t take her to his common room. His housemates would likely be doing all kinds of illegal shit, and he didn’t want to surround Y/N with that while she was in such a fragile state. And, of course, her common room wasn’t an option since Harry and his friends would probably be there. It was too dark to go outside, and they wouldn’t be able to talk properly in the library. Draco was beginning to panic, but then it hit him; the Astronomy Tower. It was one of his favorite spots, and it was relatively likely that no one would be there. He wrapped his arm tighter around Y/N and began walking towards the tower.

After a few minutes of walking and climbing the long staircase, the pair came to the top and shuffled into the Astronomy Tower. Y/N’s cries had died down already, she was only sniffling now, but Draco still kept his arm around her. “Why are we here?” she asked. Draco said nothing; he only walked them over to the railing. Y/N stared at him, perplexed, but Draco remained silent as he turned his nose up towards the sky. He loved looking at the stars. They reminded him how small and insignificant he truly was. And for someone like him, who had what felt like the weight of the world on their shoulders, it was comforting.

When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the sky, Draco dropped his arm from Y/N''s back and turned to her. She, too, had been staring at the sky. But when the blonde faced her, she tilted her head towards him and raised an eyebrow. Draco cleared his throat as his fingers found that loose thread. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked. Y/N scoffed. “Talk about what? How I’m the shittiest girlfriend ever? Or rather, was the shittiest,” she asked, her eyes shifting back to the stars. Draco sighed. “Well, I’m at fault here too, you know…” he said. Y/N rubbed her fingers on her forehead; she looked exhausted. “Draco, I appreciate it, but I made the decision to have sex with you. I knowingly and willingly cheated on Harry. You may have been the one I did it with, but that doesn’t put you at fault for my actions.”

“But I knew you were—,” Draco cut himself off with a sigh. “Well, why’d you do it then?” he asked. Y/N gave him an unimpressed look. “I already told you why. He didn’t satisfy me in the bedroom. Point, blank, period.” Draco shook his head. “But you obviously loved him, so why did you go through with it?” he pressed further. Y/N said nothing as she sunk to the floor and stuck her feet out so that they dangled off the edge of the tower. Draco didn’t join her initially, but after a minute or two, he sat down beside her and leaned his arms against the lower rung of the railing. Y/N played with her fingers anxiously for a bit before responding. “I guess…I felt like he and I were growing distant from each other. We stopped going to Hogsmede, we stopped studying together, we just...stopped,” Y/N said quietly, her voice deep and rough from her tears. “But that doesn’t make it okay; nothing makes it okay.” Draco’s eyebrows furrowed together. He could hear the pure pain in her voice, and he didn’t know what to think of it. All he knew was that it made his fists clench and his heart squeeze.

Draco gazed at the girl beside him. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. Her skin looked soft. He so wished he could reach out and stroke her cheek, but he knew that would likely put her off. Instead, he unclenched his fist and wrapped his hand around hers. He felt her jump slightly upon feeling his touch, but then, she smiled at him. God, how he loved her smile. It made him feel warm. He wanted to share that warmth Y/N, so he scooted close to her. Their shoulders were now pressed together. He gazed down at her, studying her face. “How do you feel?” he asked tentatively, not knowing quite where the question came from. Y/N hummed and replied with one word. “Alone.”

“Well...for what it’s worth, I’ll be here if you need someone,” Draco replied in an uncertain tone. He still wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but he trusted what his gut was telling him. And it seemed like it was the right thing to say because out of nowhere, Y/N’s arms wrapped around Draco’s neck, and her body pressed up against him. Instinctively, Draco returned the hug. He pulled her close and nestled his face in the crook of her neck. Nothing was okay, not yet, but at the very least, they now had each other.

-------

A few weeks later…

Draco twirled his wand between his fingers while he strolled through the stone corridors. He had a free period this school year and would often spend it by riding his broom around the quidditch pitch and trying out new tricks. He was on his way there now. He’d even asked Y/N to meet him there, considering she too had an open slot in her schedule.

After their night at the Astronomy Tower, they started spending lots of time with one another. They played gobstones, hide n seek around the castle, and had recently begun studying together. Surprisingly, the two of them had become pretty good friends despite having only started talking about a month ago. But when Y/N had mentioned to Draco that she hadn’t ridden a broomstick since first year, he had insisted she join him for one of his joyrides. She resisted at first, but Draco promised her he’d let her choose another activity for the two of them and that he wouldn’t protest, no matter how stupid he thought it was. He was quite proud of himself for thinking up that one. Truth be told, Draco had gone soft for Y/N and would probably do whatever she wanted to do, but she didn’t need to know that.

While Draco was walking down the corridor, he heard the faint sound of laughing as well as a thud. It seemed like it was coming from ahead, so he increased his pace. When he turned the corner, he was surprised to find Y/N sprawled out on the floor with some Gryffindors standing above her, snickering. “What a piece of shit. Fucking slag,” one of the girls spat. The rest of the group laughed at her words and even began to kick Y/N’s sides. Draco felt anger rising in his chest. How dare they. How fucking dare they.

Without thinking, he ripped his wand from his pocket and shouted, “Stupefy!” A shot of bright light flew towards the group. It knocked them off their feet and into the air. They each landed with a loud thump, but Draco couldn't care less. He ran over to Y/N just as she was getting to her feet. “Are you alright?” He asked her as he scanned her body, looking for injuries. Y/N nodded, but it was clear that she was frightened. Before he had the chance to comfort her, Draco’s attention was taken by the sound of a soft chuckle. He looked past Y/N to see the Gryffindors back on their feet.

“Would you look at that? The man-whore came to save you Y/N. Why don’t you drop to your knees for him and give us a little show?” said a tall, light-haired boy. Draco’s shoulders heaved with fury, and he raised his wand again. “Draco, no!” Y/N shouted desperately, but the Slytherin was already casting the curse. “Petrificus Totalus!” Draco bellowed. Instantly, the boy’s body froze in place and fell over, causing his head to hit the stone floor. His friends jumped to his defense, raising their wands towards Draco, ready to strike. But Draco was smarter. He pointed his wand towards a pile of books on a nearby bench and whispered, “Oppugno.” The books quickly shot into the air, and with another wave of Draco’s wand, they were directed towards the two remaining Gryffindors of whom were confused at first. However, when a book slapped one across the face, they realized these objects were attacking them. Hastily, they scrambled for their previously discarded items, grabbed them, and bolted down the hallway, screaming as they went.

Once they were gone, Draco marched up to the frozen boy lying on the floor. He glared into his eyes and lifted his foot. “Draco, don’t you dare,” Y/N warned as she followed after him. But all Draco could see was red. There was no way he'd back away from the chance to give the boy a taste of his own medicine. So, he pretended he hadn't heard Y/N, and rammed his foot into the Gryffindor’s side, just as he had done to Y/N. “Stop!” Y/N shouted. Draco continued to ignore her. He kept slamming his foot into the boy with absolutely no remorse. But to his dismay, his rampage was stopped by Y/N grabbing his arm and yanking him backward. He flailed for balance as he stumbled back. “Draco, that’s enough,” Y/N stated firmly before she quickly cast the counter-curse, effectively freeing the boy. He jumped to his feet, shooting daggers at the two of them. “Just go, Jack,” Y/N mumbled. The boy hesitated, but an angry look from Draco ultimately sent him on his way.

When Jack was out of sight, Y/N let go of Draco. “What the fuck was that? You could’ve seriously hurt them!” she yelled. Draco gaped at her, absolutely shocked. “They were hurting you! I was only giving them what they deserved, those arseholes. How dare they call you such things; who do they think they are?” he grumbled.

Y/N sighed softly and rubbed her fingers against her temple. “By doing all that rubbish, you only proved that you’re no better than them. You should’ve just let me handle it,” Y/N retorted, trying to get her friend to understand. But Draco was not having it. “Y/N, you were lying on the floor getting kicked. I had to do something. I couldn’t just watch you get harassed—”

“Well, you know what, Draco? Not too long ago, you were the one harassing me, or did you forget?” Y/N screamed, her eyes welling up with tears.

Draco paused. He didn’t know what to say; she was right. He only watched as Y/N rubbed her eyes and mumbled, “Fuck,” while she slid to the floor, her back against the wall. “You always treated me like shit Draco. Always... And besides, they were giving me what I deserved. I cheated on someone, and if that isn’t deserving of kicks and harsh words, then I don’t know what is,” she said sadly, her face in her hands. She couldn’t see that Draco was adamantly shaking his head. “Don’t say that; you didn’t deserve any of that bullshit,” he said through gritted teeth.

Y/N’s head shot upwards, and her fists clenched. “That’s rich coming from you. Since when did you become my protector, huh? You hated my guts a month ago, did you not? Why the fuck do you even care, Draco?” she shouted angrily, her eyes boring into Draco’s back since he had turned and begun walking away from her in frustration. But then, suddenly, he spun back around. “Because I like you, okay!? It’s because I like you.”

A few awkward seconds passed before Draco found the courage to look up from the floor and to Y/N instead. She was staring at him with a look of panic on her face. The dreadful feeling of guilt began to swirl in Draco’s stomach. Nevertheless, he breathed in deeply and started walking over to his friend. She said nothing as he neared her, but when he crouched down beside her, she turned her head away from him. “Y/N...” he started. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just...I couldn’t stand to see you hurt. I acted on my anger without thinking, and for that, I apologize.”

Y/N maintained her silence. Draco took a chance and hesitantly put his hand on top of her knee. When she didn’t push him away, he continued to speak. “Y/N, I really like you, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know that sounds cheesy and probably a bit unbelievable, but I promise you it’s true,” he said while stroking her knee through her corduroy pants. She still didn’t meet his eyes, but Draco was in too deep, and he didn’t know if he’d get another chance to say this. So he inhaled sharply and spoke his thoughts into existence.

“I think I want to be with you, Y/N.”

For what felt like hours, neither teenager said a word. Draco’s heart was pounding nervously in his chest. He felt like he might cry if she didn’t reply. But then, she turned her head. By the look on her face, Draco knew whatever she had to say wouldn’t be good. Y/N glanced at his eyes momentarily but couldn’t keep the contact. “What is it?” Draco asked gently, trying not to upset her but also wanting her to break her silence. Y/N breathed in deeply and scooted her feet forward, causing her legs to straighten and Draco’s hand to leave her knee. He pulled it close to him, feeling as though he’d been punched.

“Draco, I..." she started. “I can't. I’m not ready for a relationship, not after Harry. I’m sorry.”

Draco felt his hands begin to shake. This couldn't be happening. “Y/N, please, I promise I—”

“No, no, I can’t do this, Draco. Not right now,” Y/N said firmly as she got to her feet. Draco stammered to find the words that would convince her to stay, but she was already breaking into a run. All he could do was watch as her figure grew smaller and smaller as she traveled down the corridor. Draco considered chasing after the girl he wanted so desperately, but he knew he had to let her go. He closed his eyes, regretting his decisions. When his eyelids reopened, she was gone.

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linlincoffee · 3 years

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The Names of Different Coffee Drinks

Coffee drinks have many different names that come from many sources. Coffee houses have 64 drink selections they agree have the same basic recipe. Some of these drinks have different names or have a number of variations. A good barista is one who knows how to make them all.

Affogato is Italian for drowned. This can be a drink or served as a dessert a drink or dessert with espresso that may also incorporate caramel sauce or chocolate sauce.

The Baltimore is an equal mix of decaffeinated and caffeinated brewed coffee while the Black Eye is dripped coffee with a double shot of espresso creating a strong taste.

The Black Tie is a traditional Thai Iced Tea, which is a spicy and sweet mixture of chilled black tea, orange blossom water, star anise, crushed tamarind, sugar and condensed milk or cream, with a double shot of espresso.

The Breven is made with steamed half and half cream while the Caffè Americano or simply Americano is prepared by adding hot water to espresso, giving a similar strength, but different flavor from regular drip coffee. The strength of an Americano varies with the number of shots of espresso added. Variations include the Long Black, Lungo and Red eye.

The European Café au Lait is a continental tradition known by different names, but is the most popular drink in European coffee houses. It is made using strong or bold coffee as well as espresso that is mixed with scalded milk in a 1 to 1 ratio.

Cafe Bombon was made popular in Valencia, Spain and modified to suit European tastes and many parts of Asia such as Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore. The basic European recipe uses espresso served with sweetened condensed milk in a 1 to 1 ratio. The Asian version uses coffee and sweetened condensed milk at the same ratio. For visual effect, a glass is used, to create two separate bands of contrasting color.

In America, the Caffe Latte is a portion of espresso and steamed milk, generally in a 2 to 1 ratio of milk to espresso, with a little foam on top. This beverage was popularized by large coffee chains such as Starbucks.

The Cafe Medici starts with a double shot of espresso extracted using a double filter basket in a portafilter that is poured over chocolate syrup and orange or lemon peel, which is usually topped with whipped cream. This drink originated at Seattle's historic Last Exit on Brooklyn coffeehouse.

A Cafe Melange is a black coffee mixed or covered with whipped cream. This drink is most popular in Austria, Switzerland and the Netherlands.

A Cafe Miel has a shot of espresso, steamed milk, cinnamon, and honey. Miel is honey in Spanish.

Coffee milk is similar to chocolate milk; but coffee syrup is used instead. It is the official state drink of Rhode Island in the United States.

A Cafe mocha or Mocha is a variant of a caffe latte, but a portion of chocolate is added, typically in the form of chocolate syrup. When bought from a vending system, instant chocolate powder is used. Mochas can contain dark or milk chocolate.

Moccaccino is a term used in some regions of Europe and the Middle East to describe caffe latte with cocoa or chocolate. In the U.S., it usually refers to a cappuccino made with chocolate.

Cafe Zorro is a double espresso added to hot water in a 1 to 1 ratio.

Ca phe sua da is a unique Vietnamese coffee recipe that means iced milk coffee. Mix black coffee with about a quarter to a half as much sweetened condensed milk, pour over ice. Phe sua nong means hot milk coffee, which excludes ice. In Spain, a similar drink is called Cafe del Tiempo, hot, or Cafe con Hielo, ice.

Cappuccino is a coffee-based drink prepared with espresso, hot milk, and steamed milk foam. It is served in a porcelain cup, which has far better heat retention. The foam on top of the cappuccino acts as an insulator to help retain the heat, allowing it to stay hotter longer.

The Caramel Machiatto or C-Mac is a vanilla latte with foam and gooey caramel drizzled on top, while Chai Latte notes that the steamed milk of a normal cafè latte is being flavored with a spiced tea concentrate.

A Chocolate Dalmatian is a white chocolate mocha topped with java chip and chocolate chip while Cinnamon Spice Mocha is mixed cinnamon syrup, topped with foam and cinnamon powder.

A Cortado, Pingo or Garoto is an espresso with a small amount of warm milk to reduce the acidity. The ratio of milk or steamed milk to coffee is between 1 to 1 to 1 to 2. Milk is added after the espresso is made.

Decaf is a beverage made with decaffeinated beans while a Dirty Chai is Chai tea made with a single shot of espresso.

An Eggnog Latte is a seasonal blend of steamed 2% milk and eggnog, espresso and a pinch of nutmeg. In Germany, the Eiskaffee, ice cream coffee consists of chilled coffee, milk, sweetener, vanilla ice cream, and sometimes whipped cream.

An Espresso Romano is a shot of espresso with a small rind of lemon and sugar added.

A Flat White is prepared by pouring creamy steamed milk from the bottom of the jug over a single shot of espresso creating a lighter froth. This drink originated in New Zealand and Australia.

Frappuccino is the name and registered trademark of Starbucks blended ice beverage and bottled coffee beverage that may different flavors.

Galao is a hot drink from Portugal made of espresso and foamed milk. It is made in a tall glass with about one quarter coffee, three-quarters foamed milk.

Guillermo was originally made with one or two shots of hot espresso, poured over slices of lime or on ice; sometimes served with a touch of milk.

Another seasonal blend, a Gingerbread Latte consists of steamed milk, espresso, gingerbread syrup, topped with a pinched of nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla powder.

Greek frappé coffee is a foam-covered iced coffee drink made from spray-dried instant coffee. It is a very popular Greek summer drink.

A Green Eye, also known as Triple Death, is dripped coffee with a triple shot of espresso.

Half-caf is made with half and half parts caffeinated beans and decaffeinated beans. Iced coffee varieties include Farmers Union Iced Coffee and Toddy coffee.

South Indian Coffee, also known as Madras Filter Coffee or Kaapi is a sweet milky coffee made from dark roasted coffee beans and chicory. It is especially popular in the southern states of India.

Instant coffee is a beverage derived from dehydrated brewed coffee beans that come in powder or granules. Some brands include Chock full o'Nuts, Japanese canned coffee, Moccona and Nescafe.

Irish coffee is coffee combined with whiskey and cream, often further sweetened with sugar.

Kopi susu is found in Malaysian Borneo and Indonesia. Kopi susu means coffee milk and is served in a glass of cooled mixed black Arabica coffee including grounds with about a quarter to a half a glass of sweetened condensed milk. Kopi Turbruk uses sugar instead of sweetened condensed milk.

Libbylou is a hot espresso made with equal parts mocha and white mocha topped with espresso and steamed half and half. It is served plain without a topping,

Liqueur coffee, is brewed coffee with a shot of liqueur and usually served in a warmed glass. Sugar is required in the coffee mixture to help the cream float. There are 17 varieties; each uses a different liqueur.

Macchiato is an espresso with a dash of foamed milk that is put directly into the espresso cup first; espresso is dispensed into the cup. Cocoa is then sprinkled over the drink.

Mary Turner Coffee is a soft amount of milk, 3 sweeteners, and the rest coffee. It's an evening drink.

Mazagran is a long cold coffee beverage from Portugal and served in a tall glass. It is made with at least strong coffee, usually espresso, lemon and ice. Sometimes sugar, rum or water is added or a fast version uses previously sweetened espresso in a cup with ice cubes and a slice of lemon.

Mochasippi is prepared by baristas in coffee houses in southern states. Similar to the Mocha, but a Mochasippi contains actual shots of espresso rather than a powdered instant coffee.

Pumpkin Spice Latte is a Fall seasonal blend of steamed milk, espresso, sugar, vanilla extract, pumpkin pie spice, topped with foam and a pinch of pumpkin pie spice.

Pocillo is a shot or small portion of unsweetened coffee, now usually made either using an espresso machine or a moka maker, but traditionally made using a cloth drip and served in cups made for the purpose in Latin America.

Raspberry Mocha is a regular mocha with raspberry flavoring.

Red Eye is a dripped coffee with a single shot of espresso while a Red Tie is a traditional Thai Iced Tea, a spicy and sweet mixture of chilled black tea, orange blossom water, star anise, crushed tamarind, sugar and condensed milk or cream along with a single shot of espresso.

A Red Tux is a Zebra Mocha with raspberry flavoring.

Regular Coffee in New York City, a regular coffee with cream and sugar. A variant phrasing is coffee regular.

Ristretto is a very short shot of espresso coffee. All strengths of flavors are usually attributed to espresso in general, but are more pronounced in Ristretto.

Skinny Latte is a reduced calorie latte made with steamed non-fat milk and artificial sweeteners, such as Splenda or Equal. A Soy Latte is a latte made with steamed soy milk.

A Torpedo is made by placing the froth from steamed milk in cup with espresso coffee falling though the froth. The torpedo creates a very clean and distinct flavor for those who prefer a stronger taste of espresso than through conventional cappuccino.

Triple C's combines Cinnamon Dolce Latte with caramel syrup and chocolate syrup.

Turkish coffee is made by immersing the coffee grounds in water that is hot but not boiling long enough to dissolve the flavorsome compound. In Turkey, sweetness used is from a pinch to two teaspoons. Pouring that creates the most foam is considered the best cup.

Vienna coffee is the name of a popular traditional cream based coffee beverage. Made by preparing two shots of strong black espresso in a coffee cup, it is infused with whipped cream until the cup is full; then topped with more cream and chocolate sprinklings.

White Chocolate Mocha or sometimes referred to as White Mocha and is a sweet mixture espresso, steamed milk, white chocolate syrup. This sugary drink is often topped with whipped cream.

Yuanyang, sometimes also called Ying Yong, is a popular beverage in Hong Kong. Made of a mixture of coffee and Hong Kong-style milk tea, it is served hot or cold. Yuanyang means pair of two unlike items as used in this drink.

Zebra Mocha, sometimes known as a Black Tux, is a mixture of regular mocha with a white chocolate mocha.

Local drinks add to the variety of coffee drinks covered here as do new creations whether by customers or by baristas themselves. If they become known around the world, they will join the list above.

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astrelan · 4 years

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London Rising

So hey y’all, I know I haven’t been active lately. I’ve been working on something different for my D&D group for a little bit now. We’re about to start a campaign using the Genesys gaming system, actually, and I wanted to share the setting details with you all. It’s a completely homebrewed fantasy/steampunk setting, which Genesys is amazing for. I’d love to hear any feedback if you want to PM me about it.

Here goes:

London Rising is a dystopian version of earth, where magically-powered airships the size of cities dominate the skies. On the ground below, magical war has rendered most areas of the planet unlivable. It has been almost three thousand years since the outbreak of war drove humanity to live in the sky, and, despite constant maintenance, ships are starting to break down. More frequent landings have been made, even going so far as to stop in dangerous territory. Refueling and refit stops in safe zones take longer. Fear that the great ships will falter and stall is rising. It is impossible to tell if the great era of the air will end soon, or if this is just a hiccup along its path.

Tensions between cities are rising, leading to more than one skirmish between cities. Air piracy has been on the rise, and cities have taken real combat damage for the first time. It's only a matter of time before one falls from the sky. City ships are separated into three major levels: the officers' quarters, which is nearest to the top decks; the engineers' quarters, which is firmly in the middle, around the flight crystal; and steerage, which is the lower decks. The officers' quarters are where the elite stay, while the engineers' is where the skilled laborers and middle class live. Steerage is for the poor or useless crewmembers, and is cramped and dangerous to live in.

Currency is the cubit, abbreviated as a bit. A cubit is a small brass square with a hole in the middle. Twenty-five cubits can be exchanged for a thruppenny bit, which is a small square of sterling silver with a hole in it. Four thruppenny bits can be exchanged for a dollar, which is a round copper coin with a hole in the middle. The coins are lightly engraved, and are accepted in most civilized places.

Magic is a thing, but must normally be focused through an implement, most commonly a crystal glove.

The two major religions on most city ships are the Temple of the Everlasting Cog and the Order of Skysingers. There is also the Cult of Beth'Shalot, but they are illegal in most places. The Temple is an atheist order that reveres order and solidarity, and despises chaos. They sing hymns called shipsongs five times daily, and worshippers are permitted breaks during these times if they do not work on essential functions. The Order worships the sky and its magic. They have a church on the ship's deck, and all members have free access to it. The Cult worships a sleeping old god who will devour the world when he awakes. There are mechanical walker machines that are piloted by humans and some that are controlled by rudimentary machine intelligences. These vary in size, but some of the larger ones have built in rocket engines to allow them to fly. Those owned by London are piloted by the Knights of the Silver Cog, a nearly-religious order that is sponsored by the Temple of the Everlasting Cog.

The city is led by Queen Ileein Southmoreland, who handles the city's foreign affairs. The Archchancellor handles day to day affairs and the Captain handles everything about the ship itself.

Day to day affairs are run by Archchancellor Valeria Hightower. The Archchancellor is elected by popular vote, but most of the steerage doesn't really have a chance; the votes are weighted by class. Elections are held every ten years.

The Captain is elected by the Captain's Council, an elite group of ten men and women that run the ship itself. The Captain is a position for life, as when the elected takes the post, they give up their name to bond with the crystal that runs the ship. There is always a captain shadowing the current captain, whose lifespan is drastically reduced due to the taxing nature of their crystalline bond. The Cogbound are a race of mechanical men created by the Temple of the Everlasting Cog. They are created without inherent sentience, but it can evolve. Those deemed sentient are known as Cogborn, and are revered by the Temple. Every year, all Cogbound take a series of tests called the Sentience Tests, which consist of a large number of empathy-related questions. This happens over the period of a week, which is aptly called Sentience Week. Keeping a Cogbound from their testing is punishable by death in some cases, though whipping and hefty fines are more common.

While mostly human, the populace of London and most other city states has grown varied over the years due to immigration from the surface and a steady stream of emigrants from steerage looking for a better life.

There are three arcane universities in London: St. George's Academy of Sorcery, which is the most elite; Lord Wimbley's School of the Arcane Arts, which is of middling prestige; and the Alderman's House of Spellcraft, which is the state-funded school to make sure all spellcasters have some education. Most of the world is covered in dark grey wasteland. Only dead plants remain there as far as flora. They are crawling with mutants and monsters, and magical storms are common. Crystals can sometimes be found here, though not very big ones. Mostly big enough for lithospats. Areas of wasteland include much of Europe and Asia, parts of Africa and Russia, and the entire Mediterranean coast.

Magical storms ravage some areas constantly. These places are absolutely filled with monsters and mutants, and what plants do grow there are warped, evil things that grow fat on magical energy. Crystals are abundant here, often being big enough to fly city ships with. Those places include all of north america, most of Russia, and parts of South America.

Most safe zones have isolated themselves, all trade being done via the air. These include India, Japan, Cuba, parts of Scandinavia, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and some areas in the Himalayas and South America's mountain ranges.

Australia is the only country to emerge almost completely unscathed, and is the world's largest trade hub.

Greenland is partially covered in storms, but its safe zones are widely visited trading ports.

Most of the long-lasting technology that exists is ancient crystal-based technology. Newer technology is normally steam-based or more primitive crystal technology, cobbled together by mechanomancers.

City ships are primarily kept aloft by their lift crystals, but are also kept aloft by a variety of other technologies depending on the city, including balloons and steam-powered machines. Propulsion is partially achieved by lift crystals but is mostly provided by steam-powered propellers. Most of the internal systems and living areas are steam-powered, but the officers' quarters are normally crystal-powered.

Smaller airships are normally kept aloft by balloons and steam-powered machines, but some ancient or well-financed airships use smaller lift crystals. Propulsion is almost always provided by propellers.

There are two primary types of small aircraft: gyrospats and lithospats. Gyrospats are little more than a wooden open cockpit, a steam engine, a propeller, and normally some sort of weaponry. Lithospats are separated into ancient and modern lithospats, both powered by lift crystals. Ancient lithospats are elegant, aesthetically pleasing aircraft with no visible means of propulsion. Their crystals are tucked into a protective shell. They are normally made of materials that are now impossible to reproduce with modern technology. Modern lithospats bear more resemblance to gyrospats, but made of steel or iron. Their crystals are normally only protected by a thin hemisphere of metal.

Weapons technology ranges from single shot weapons to clockwork loading mechanisms to weapons firing crystal charges. Melee weapons are fairly standard fare, but also include chainswords and other mechanized weapons.

Advanced locks can either be steam-run transaction engine locks, or crystal-board locks similar to highly tuned modern electronic locks.

Thinking machines are normally run off of crystal-boards, ancient technology that is similar to a modern computer chip or motherboard. The art of making these has been diluted but not lost; with the tools available, it is not possible to make high quality crystal-boards anymore, but the Temple puts out reasonable facsimiles for the Cogbound they make. The quality varies from city to city.

#campaign #setting #genesys #fantasy #steampunk #magipunk #magic #d&d #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dystopian roleplay #dystopian fantasy #dystopian #dystopian steampunk #writing #london rising

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murderluv23 · 4 years

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Piano Demon Headcanons (3)

Alastor loves having him do his hair. The feeling of his hands running through his roots and the gentle strokes from his brush.

This mainly only happens for important events when Alastor wants to brush his hair back into a ponytail.

But on occasion Alastor will ask him to do his hair out of the blue even if it isn't messy when he wants to be spoiled.

He has complimented Alastor on how handsome he looks with his hair pulled back. Nothing too crazy but Alastor is reduced to a blushing smiley puddle everytime.

"Wow, Al! You look great!"

"That's nice, Charlie, dear."

"Hey, Al! Lookin' good! You gonna turn some poor saps tonight."

"Whatever you say, Angel."

"I guess you look nice."

"Bold of you to assume I care about your opinion of me, Vaggie, darling."

"Hmm."

"What is it, dear?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking how it's possible I was able to court someone so illogically handsome."

Puff of smoke from his face. Flustered grin that's far past his eyebrows. Nothing but static in his irises as he holds his burning cheeks, facing away from him. Alastor.exe has stopped working.

"Holy shit, I think you killed him. He's frozen solid."

"I don't understand. What did I say?"

"Fuck, I've never met someone so unaware of his own charm. Don't worry, buster. You said the right thing. Your man is just a freak."

"That's not very nice, Angel."

"Eh, it's the truth."

You can imagine Alastor's jealously knowing Stolas recieves some pampering during his and The Piano Demon's sleepovers concerning his hair.

I mean, Stolas has to go two hours giving the reindeer puppy dog eyes before he caves but still.

Him and Alastor have picked up on each other's habits, be it nervous ones or mundane ones.

The Piano Demon sometimes taps his foot in a rythm that mimics one of Alastor's favorite songs. He subconciously does this when he is feeling anxious. The rythm reminds him of Alastor and the association helps calm him. Though he is unaware he is even doing it a lot of the time.

Only Alastor knows the reason behind this. It fills him with pride.

Alastor will make a really sweet, extravaggent morning coffee with whip cream and toppings when he feels extra stressed and unfocused. Something The Piano Demon does when he is in some sort of block. This is a manifestation of the reindeer's habit of putting 100% into everything. When he can't do it in one area, he finds it cathartic to try it somewhere else until he can focus on the other.

Sometimes the other misfits will walk in on Alastor preparing this monster coffee.

"I thought you didn't like sweet stuff."

"I don't."

Very confusing for everyone.

Alastor snaps out of his task only after he's done and sighs. He's done it again.

He'll make himself a separate cup of coffee completely unsweetened and give the other one to his beloved who is most definitely glued to his piano already and practicing. He may dislike sweets but he dislikes wasting good food and drinks even more.

"You did it again?", he'd always ask, sipping the warm mug.

"Yes.", Alastor always answers, "You've infected me, Ol' Sport."

"......Sorry."

Alastor would always give him a kiss on the cheek to show he doesn't mean it. Even if the reindeer knows it's a joke, he sometimes gets self concious of his quirks. Alastor is having none of that.

The two are weirdos in their own way and love sharing their oddities that others struggle to understand.

Their habits bleed into other things as well and it's pretty funny watching these two overlords blackout on something they're doing or approach a task in a completely insane manner but have it work perfectly.

He loves video games.

Surprising?

Well, like I said, he is open to modern technology.

Though he certainly doesn't observe them for gameplay purposes. It's the soundtracks. He will be glued to the thing simply to analyze the music and the motivations behind the creator's use for each song and how it ties into the story and characters. It fasicnates him.

Seriously, watch this old man sit there and go into an endless lecture about musical theory while the game is playing.

He once finished Persona 5 in a day because he was so impressed by the music. He's old. He's so old, guys.

Yes, he also managed to fit in piano practice during that time. Don't ask how that's possible.

He is still a very stoic, monotoned person so watching him do this is ten times more funny. He both looks and sounds so unethusiastic, all the time.

I think he'd like Cuphead. If for nothing else other than it reminding him of his time on Earth.

Story based video games are the only ones he'll look at as a result. Others aren't as mentally stimulating to him so he doesn't show an interest.

Yes, he does have a tail. He isn't ashamed of it but he keeps it hidden, for identity purposes.

If someone tries to touch him, he'd just let them fade through him or teleport a few feet away. A lot of people fall face first.

Angel has more headaches then he would like to admit.

He would care for an animal if he found one abandoned or injured.

Fat Nuggets follows him around sometimes and it baffles everyone, including Angel.

Though this does mean Angel asks him to babysit every once in a while. He doesn't mind.

He likes cold weather, I mean really cold. He finds it soothing and tranquil. Meanwhile, everyone is begging for the torture to end.

He'll literally bliss out and lay on Alastor's shoulder if he's near while the others want to warm up so badly. Alastor will hunt whoever tries to find a solution for sport. He's adorable when he's like this.

When they were alive, he always listened in to Alastor's radio broadcast whenever he could.

Alastor often visited him along with Mimzy. He would wrap his arms around his shoulders as he played the piano, humming along.

"Ineffable Musical Deer Husbands" is their official title. Fight me.

He doesn't like seeing people cry but wouldn't be very emotionally receptive. It's hard for him to understand why someone is crying but he would try to calm them down as best as he could.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #the piano demon #hazbin hotel headcanons #piano demon headcanons #alastor x oc #alastor x piano demon #fluff #stolas mention #helluva boss mention

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aidenloganblog123 · 4 years

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New York cheesecake

Ingredients

For the crust

85g butter, plus extra for tin

140g digestive biscuits, made into fine crumbs (add 2 extra biscuits if you like a thicker base)

1 tbsp sugar, granulated or golden caster

For the cheesecake filling

900g Philadelphia cheese, or other full-fat soft cheese

250g golden caster sugar

3 tbsp plain flour

1 ½ tsp vanilla extract

finely grated zest of 1 lemon (about 2 tsp)

1 ½ tsp lemon juice

3 large eggs, plus 1 yolk

284ml carton soured cream

For the soured cream topping

142ml carton soured cream

1 tbsp golden caster sugar

2 tsp lemon juice

Method

STEP 1 Position an oven shelf in the middle of the oven. Heat the oven to 180C/ 160C fan/ gas 4. STEP 2 Line the base of a 23cm springform cake tin by putting a square piece of parchment paper or foil on top of the tin base and then clipping the side on so the paper or foil is trapped and any excess sticks out of the bottom. STEP 3 For the crust, melt 85g butter in a medium pan. Stir in 140g digestive biscuit crumbs and 1 tbsp golden caster or granulated sugar so the mixture is evenly moistened. STEP 4 Press the mixture into the bottom of the pan and bake for 10 minutes. Cool on a wire rack while preparing the filling. STEP 5 For the filling, increase the oven temperature to fan 220C/ 200C fan/ gas 7. In a table top mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat 900g full-fat soft cheese at medium-low speed until creamy, about 2 minutes. STEP 6 With the mixer on low, gradually add 250g golden caster sugar, then 3 tbsp plain flour and a pinch of salt, scraping down the sides of the bowl and the paddle twice. STEP 7 Swap the paddle attachment for the whisk. Continue by adding 1½ tsp vanilla extract, 2 tsp lemon zest and 1½ tsp lemon juice. Whisk in 3 large eggs and 1 yolk, one at a time, scraping the bowl and whisk at least twice. STEP 8 Stir a 284ml carton of soured cream until smooth, then measure 200ml (just over ¾ of the carton). Continue on low speed as you add the measured soured cream (reserve the rest). Whisk to blend, but don't over-beat. The batter should be smooth, light and somewhat airy. STEP 9 Brush the sides of the springform tin with melted butter and put on a baking sheet. Pour in the filling - if there are any lumps, sink them using a knife - the top should be as smooth as possible. Bake for 10 minutes. STEP 10 Reduce oven temperature to 110C/ 90C fan/ gas ¼ and bake for 45 minutes more. If you gently shake the tin, the filling should have a slight wobble. STEP 11 Turn off the oven and open the oven door for a cheesecake that's creamy in the centre, or leave it closed if you prefer a drier texture. Let cool in the oven for 2 hours. The cheesecake may get a slight crack on top as it cools. STEP 12 Combine the reserved soured cream with a 142ml carton soured cream, 1 tbsp golden caster sugar and 2 tsp lemon juice for the topping. Spread over the cheesecake right to the edges. Cover loosely with foil and refrigerate for at least 8 hours or overnight. STEP 13 Run a round-bladed knife around the sides of the tin to loosen any stuck edges. Unlock the side, slide the cheesecake off the bottom of the tin onto a plate, then slide the parchment paper out from underneath.

RECIPE TIPS

MIXING THE INGREDIENTS The way you blend the ingredients is crucial: under-beating can lead to a lumpy mixture, over-beating can whip in too much air. This can result in uneven cooking, bubbles, and cracking.

KEEP EVERYTHING AT ROOM TEMPERATURE Keep everything at room temperature. To avoid lumps and ensure even mixing without over-beating, it is essential to have the soft cheese at room temperature before starting. Ideally, let it come to room temperature in its pack for 2 hours. If you're short of time, cut the soft cheese into chunks and leave to soften for 1 hour. It also helps to have a table top mixer with a powerful motor. But if you don't have one, a hand-held mixer works fine.

New York-Style Cheesecake New York-style cheesecake is my husband Michael’s favourited dessert. In fact, the first time I met my future mother-in-law almost 20 years ago, she told me that the way to Michael’s heart was through his stomach, and that whenever she wanted him to do anything as a child, she bribed him with a slice of cheesecake. A traditional lady she may be, but I got the message loud and clear: learn to make a good cheesecake!

I’ve shared several cheesecake recipes with you — an Italian-style ricotta cheesecake, a pumpkin cheesecake, cheesecake bars, and even Baileys cheesecake marbled brownies – but never an authentic New York-style cheesecake.

My Recipe Videos Breakfast Burritos Breakfast Burritos Volume 0% Truth be told, New York’s take on cheesecake can be a little intimidating to make. Though the ingredients are simple, you have to worry about the water bath leaking into the cake, the surface cracking, and over or under-cooking. But after baking umpteen cheesecakes over the years (for birthdays and such, not bribery!), I’ve found that with the right recipe and a few pointers, a creamy, crack-free New York-style cheesecake is totally doable, even for beginners

WHAT YOU’LL NEED TO MAKE NEW YORK-STYLE CHEESECAKE

Before we get to the recipe, you’ll need a nine or ten-inch springform pan and 18-inch heavy-duty aluminium foil. The springform pan features sides that can be removed from the base, so you can release the cheesecake easily without having to flip the whole pan over (this would be a disaster with a cheesecake!).

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eventcollar1 · 4 years

Text

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franklyshipping · 5 years

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Day 3 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

Day 3 here we frickin come people! I hope you're al hungry because now it is time for the all important...Christmas food shopping! LET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @goog-ler-iplier

Food, glorious food…writing this part is going to make me hungry, I know it. Just thinking about documenting people buying turkey, chicken, bacon, sausages, pigs-in-blankets, beef, eggs, cubes, mince and steaks of meat substitute, potato starch based egg substitute, roasting and baking potatoes, carrots, parsnips, garlic, onions, sprouts, leeks, celery, spinach, spring onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, heavy cream, semi-skimmed and full fat milks, lacto-free milks, almond milk, soya milk, butter, vegan butter, regular and gluten free loaves, baguettes, wraps and flat breads, chicken and beef stocks, sage, thyme, basil, lemons, limes, satsumas, grapes, walnuts, fennel seeds, cumin, vinegar, star anise, salt, black pepper, oils, black and glace cherries, raisins, dates, apples, cranberries, gooseberries, blackberries, redcurrants, figs, cinnamon powder and sticks, nutmeg, ginger, a multitude of flours and sugars, baking powder and soda, inhuman amounts of chocolate and sweets, whipped cream, savoury snacks like crisps, peanuts, cashews, pretzels, crackers, breadsticks, cheeses and pickles, popcorn, candy floss…and then huge amounts of ice cream….is gonna make me hungry.

Then there’s the whole beverage side of things. There are bottles and cans of fizzy sodas, lemonade, ginger ale, ginger beer, tonic water, elderflower presse, apple juice, orange juice, cranberry juice, instant coffee, coffee machine capsules, earl grey tea, peppermint tea, loose leaf tea, generally festive tea, hot chocolate mixes, egg nog, white wine, red wine, rose wine, port, champagne, whiskey, gin, rum, cream liqueur, cans and bottles of beer, vodka….and sparkling water. Damn…it’s a lot. Undoubtedly you’d need somebody with something like a computer for a memory to memorise all of that, purchase it and bring it home in an efficient manner; thank heck for Googleplier. He was on the mission for consumables, along with his VERY excited boyfriend Blankgameplays.

Now, when it came to public places Blank could often get very anxious and uncomfortable…but not this time. On this occasion, not only did he have his sweet blue Google with him, but he also had a task to undertake, a task he’d been looking forward to ever since he’d volunteered to help Google with it. Blank loved shopping, and he also loved Google, so really this was his idea of the perfect morning. He, of course, was in charge of the steadily filling trolley…and was being a tad cheeky with it.

‘Blank! Get back here! You’ll crash the darned thing!’

Google whisper-shouted as he speed-walked down the aisle after his boyfriend, who was giggling as he half-rode the trolley down the aisle, giddily taunting.

‘Cahan’t catch meee can’t catch meheee!’

Google let out a growl under his breath as he sped up into a jog, and Blank’s eyes widened as he let out a surprised squeak when he found that Google had wrapped his arms around him from behind and brought him to a halt.

‘Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?’

Blank giggled and nibbled his bottom lip at the sound of his boyfriend’s low growl in his ear. Blank turned around so he could face Google, and stood on his tip-toes so he could deliver a kiss to his nose.

‘Maaaaybe.’

Google pursed his lips as he looked down at Blank…damn him with his twinkling eyes and beautiful smile, always making Google unable to truly chastise him for his cheekiness. They returned to their task, collecting more essential items and crossing them off their list….but it didn’t take long for Blank’s mischief to rear its adorable head once more. This time, he was putting things in the trolley that they didn’t require.

‘My love…we do not need paper plates with pink pigs on them.’

‘Awwww c’mooon! Look at them they’re so cute!’

Blank stuck out his bottom lip dramatically, whining when Google put them back on their respective shelf. Google got close to Blank, whispering with a light, playful glare in place.

‘If you put anything else in the trolley that is not on our set list then I shall, with immediate effect, take away your trolley pushing privileges.’

Blank stuck his lip out even more and tried to engage in his puppy eyes, but Google’s glare merely hardened, so Blank submitted….for a little while at least. The rest of the shopping went remarkably smoothly, Blank was giddy of course but he didn’t try to playfully disrupt the task…so Google was under the impression that he was no longer going to be cheeky amidst the shopping. Oh how he was wrong. Blank was merely biding his time, lulling Google into a false sense of security…until they reached the check-out. Then, Blank did the one thing he knew would embarrass Google immensely WITHOUT making him uncomfortable; namely, a great amount of PDA.

‘Baaaabe, can we snuggle lateeer?’

Google’s eyes widened when, just as he’d finished loading their purchasers onto the conveyer, Blank starting hanging off his arm and softly nuzzling his cheek. His face started to turn turquoise as he perceived other customers staring with grins on their faces. Google stammered, wanting to reprimand Blank, but he was getting embarrassed.

‘L-Love….n-not here….’

Blank grinned and giggled, placing a trail of soft, innocent kisses under his jaw, knowing damn well what he was doing to his adorable android. Google’s blush reached his ears as Blank cooed deftly.

‘Whaaat? I’m just showing the world how much I looove you and wanna snuggle yooou!’

Google tried to look down at Blank with a warning in his eyes, but that only made Blank grin wider, god how he loved teasing Google. Google always maintained stoicism, professionalism and perfect composure in every public situation….but Blank lived for when he was blushing and smiling and had no idea what to do with himself because of his developing emotions.

‘Sh-shhh….p-p-people a-are l-looking….’

Google tried to bow his head as he started to smile nervously, whilst Blank merely giggled fondly at him. He was caught between the embarrassment of people watching them and undoubtedly cooing about them, and the sweet enticing nature of his boyfriend’s loving affection. Google could only reason that emotions were….weird. Google gritted his teeth when Blank winked at him though, and despite how flustered he was…Google knew that he wasn’t going to let Blank get away with this. So when it came to checking out, Google packed everything without even bothering to stick to a human pace, whilst Blank continued to smugly stay close to him and relish in what he’d reduced his boyfriend to.

‘You sweeties enjoy the holidays!’

The cashier called after them with a giggle, which made Blank smirk as Google growled. As they left the store with everything bagged in the trolley, Google could feel his embarrassment diminishing…and his need to have vengeance rising. He was similarly inhuman with his speed of loading all their purchases into the car and returning the trolley, and as Blank made to go around to sit in the front passenger seat….Google gripped his forearm.

‘Get into the seat behind mine. Now.’

Blank’s overwhelming smugness….wavered, just a tad, as Blank saw the danger in his Google’s smile. Blank knew he’d been a teasy shit, and on the inside he’d known there were going to be consequences, which was kinda why he’d done it. Google’s consequences were often rather enjoyable. So, Blank decided to maintain his cheeky, boyish grin as he slipped into the back seat behind Google’s driver seat. Then, Google too got into the car, locked it….and proceeded to tint each and every window, and the front and back windscreens so that anyone walking past wouldn’t be able to see in. Blank was analysing Google’s actions with a giddy, yet nervous curiosity…he knew he was in for some kind of punishment, but as of yet he wasn’t sure of what it would entail; so of course, he asked cheekily.

‘Tinting the windows huh? Are gonna make out a little before we head home?’

Google let out a soft laugh through his nose, before cocking his head at Blank and purring.

‘As enjoyable as that sounds, you and I both know that is not what you deserve in this moment. What is going to happen now, is you are going to remove your shoes and socks, and give them to me.’

Blank’s eyes widened. This could only mean one thing, one consequence. His hands and fingers were shaking as he started to blush, not hesitating to comply with his boyfriend’s command. He wordlessly handed his sneakers and black socks over, making Google smile as he took them and set them aside.

‘Good boy, now….’

Blank watched with nervous, curious eyes as Google lifted the head rest up and off of the driver’s seat. His toes curled as Google purred, his azure eyes gleaming behind his spectacles.

‘Feet up.’

Blank complied once more, settling in the back seat as he rested his feet on the top of Google’s seat. He squeaked when Google gripped his ankles and yanked his feet forwards, and Blank hid in his hoodie when he heard Google chuckle…before putting the head rest back onto the seat. The head rest slipped back into place snugly, trapping Blank’s ankles, and leaving his bare feet vulnerable and exposed for whatever Google desired. Google hummed as he observed his boyfriend’s pale, scrunched soles fondly.

‘Do you know what I’m going to do to you?’

Blank nibbled his bottom lip, shivering as he tentatively looked to Google; he whispered meekly.

‘….t-….uh…p-punish me?’

‘Hmm….you are correct, but what is it I am punishing you for?’

Blank was about to open his mouth to answer, when he let out a surprised squeak. Google had begun tracing his soles with all his fingertips, with his eyebrow raised expectantly. Blank understood that Google was still expecting him to answer him, no matter what else was happening. Blank clapped a hand over his mouth as giggles spilled from his lips….oh this was going to be diabolical.

‘I-Ihihit’s b-behecause-ohomygohod….i-ihihit’s….’

Blank let out a light whine, he couldn’t get his words out through his goddamn giggles! Google meanwhile just kept on tracing all over his feet, relishing in the gasps and giggles that he adored so much. Blank’s mirth was utter perfection in Google’s eyes, and he took any and every opportunity to coax it out.

‘Yes dear?’

Blank squeaked and spluttered when Google lightly skittered over the balls of his feet, making Blank scrunch and tug weakly at his trapped feet.

‘P-P-Pleheheeease I-I c-cahan’t t-tahalk lihike thihihis!’

Google cocked his head at Blank softly, smiling with innocent nonchalance as he replied.

‘And yet you still are perfectly coherent. Don’t worry, you can take your time, it’s not like you’re going anywhere.’

Blank threw his head back with his loud giggles as he tugged at his feet more and more, the incessant tickling at the balls of his feet was really affecting the poor guy. Blank knew he had to do everything he could to answer Google’s questions though, it was Google’s thing whenever he tickled, he asked question after question after question like he was doing an experiment.

'Ohohogohod ohohokahay I-I wahas cheheeky!’

Blank squealed out his words as Google lightly raked his nails up and down Blank’s taut, ticklish inner arches. The android smirked, letting out a satisfied hum at his boyfriend’s adorable compliance.

‘That’s right my dear, you were cheeky….very, very cheeky…’

Blank got chills down his spine at Google’s cool, deep tone of voice, and whimpered when Google made his inner-arch tickling devilishly light.

‘Why don’t you list all of the cheeky things you did?’

Blank hit his car seat, the light sensations making him want to curl up and hide away forever as electricity coursed through his body. It took him about a minute of whimpery giggling before he managed to even think about answering, all throughout which Google observed, lovingly. Google adored how ticklish Blank was to even the lightest of touches, it was endearing, and marvellously enjoyable to exploit during moments like this.

‘I-Ihihi r-rahahan wihith the t-trohoholley!’

Google hummed, tracing the wrinkles in the centres of Blank’s scrunched soles.

‘Yes, and?’

Blank softly squealed and hid his face in his hands, his giggling becoming intermingled with soft squeaks and hiccups now; his replies were getting faster too.

‘I-I-Ihihi p-puhut stuhuhuff ihin the troholley wehe d-d-dihidn’t nehEED!’

Blank jumped and yelped when Google sneakily scratched the pad of one of his big toes, which spurred Google to softly trace over both his big toes as he purred evilly.

‘Mmmm, that was particularly cheeky of you….but what was the naughtiest thing you did, hmm?’

Blank’s face was screwed up and his eyes were squeezed shut as colour bloomed on his normally pale face, and his lips spread into a wide, embarrassed grin; the tickling was one thing, but making him talk amidst it all? That’s what made it true tickle torture for Blank.

‘IHI EHEMBARRASSED YOHOHOU!’

Blank was squealing and laughing his head off as Google took time and pleasure over scratching every single pad of every single one of Blank’s little, pale toes. This was the pinnacle of the punishment and Google was going to make sure the punishment wasn’t forgotten in a hurry.

‘Yes, you did. Despite knowing how much public displays of affection cause the human flustered emotion to rise within me, you partook in them with me anyway, for your own naughty amusement….’

Blank let out a shrill wail, tugging at his poor feet desperately as he became more and more teary eyed with every passing second.

‘IHIHI’M SAHARRY!’

Google hummed, casting his gaze over his precious, writhing boyfriend with tender amusement dancing in his eyes. He kept tickling his toes deftly as he leant towards him a tad, purring.

‘Sorry for what exactly?’

Google raised a brow amidst his query, and that teasiness on top of the tickling just brought Blank to his adorable limit.

‘EHEHEVERYTHIHING! AHAHALL OHOF IHIIIT!’

At Blank’s high-pitched wail, Google reasoned that Blank had received an adequate amount of punishment in relation to his cheekiness during their extended errand, so he had mercy. He efficiently released his boyfriend’s feet, and chuckled amusedly when Blank immediately set about bringing his legs close to his chest. Blank was giggling residually and embarrassedly into his knees, but peeked form his hiding spot when he felt a warmth settle on one of his hands.

‘Are you alright?’

Blank melted at the softness of Google’s voice, and looked to see that Google had placed one of his hands on one of his and was rubbing his knuckles tenderly. Blank wordlessly nodded with a bashful smile, and leant forward so he could kiss the android’s hand. Google chuckled fondly, and was about to suggest that make-out session that Blank had previously brought up….when they both suddenly heard a disgruntled gurgle come from the car’s cup-holders. They both looked, and Blank giggled when he saw Gooper lightly squirming.

‘Ohoops, dihidn’t see ya there bud…’

Blank giggled whilst Gooper gurgled once more, this time for a tad longer. Google hummed as he listened to the slightly drowsy creature, before smiling to his boyfriend in amusement.

‘It seems he is displeased at being so roughly awoken from his naptime, but he is happy to take your socks as compensation. He wants to snuggle them.’

Blank spluttered and let out a snort, before picking up his socks and softly tucking them into the cup-holders with Gooper, who purred in thanks before settling down in the new warmth to resume his nap. Meanwhile, the make-out session was put on hold….for the half an hour it took for them to get back home, deposit their purchases, and for Google to carry his cute, barefoot human to their privacy.

WOOOO DAY NUMBER 3 COMPLETE, LEMME KNOW IF YOU GUYS ENJOYED IT WOOO LYV YOUS XX

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write-havoc · 5 years

Text

The Flame is Gone, The Fire Remains Ch 6

Summary: Negan and Chuck have cemented their relationship and are proud parents of a new baby girl. Will they be able to balance their new found parenthood with keeping their community safe from the perils of the world?

Sequel to This Is How I Disappear

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, violence, blood, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

“Is she alright?” Negan asks, his voice full of worry.

“Yes, she’s alright,” Chuck responds, exasperated over the repeated question. “She’ll be fine.” She leans over the crib to gently wipe Maddie’s fat tears away.

“She’s fuckin’ crying.”

“She’s teething , Negan. It hurts.” She takes the now room temperature teething ring away from the little girl. “Go grab a new one out of the freezer.”

Negan practically runs out of the nursery to fetch one to relieve Maddie’s sore gums. When he rushes back in, Maddie is still crying. “Here you go, princess.” He puts the frozen ring to her mouth. “Fuck. I hate hearing her in pain.”

Chuck rubs Negan’s back as he’s bent over the crib. “I know. But there’s not much we can do about this. Everyone goes through it. We just gotta wait it out.”

As the cold helps to numb Maddie’s gums, she starts to settle a little.

“See?” Chuck says. “She’s just fine. You okay with her while I shower?”

“Yeah.”

Once Chuck is done with her shower, she finds Negan sitting on the couch in their room with Maddie laying in his arms. “She’s doing good,” she mentions, since the little girl seems to be quiet. Once Chuck rounds the couch, she can see that Negan has his finger in Maddie’s mouth. “I think the teething ring would be better for her to bite than your finger,” she jokes, though Maddie seems perfectly content.

“I dipped it in whiskey,” he responds.

Chuck’s face falls. “You’re joking.”

“No. It did the trick. She started fuckin’ fussing again, but now she’s out.”

“Negan!” she chides. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s fine, baby girl. Moms have been doing that shit for a hundred years.”

“I don’t want you giving our baby whiskey.” She leans over him and runs her hand over Maddie’s hair.

“She was fuckin’ crying,” he explains like that excuses it.

Chuck shakes her head with a giggle. “She already has you so whipped.”

“She’s my little princess.” He looks down at her and smiles as he gently takes his finger from her mouth.

“Don’t spoil her.”

“I’m gonna spoil the shit outta her,” he responds.

Chuck laughs. “She needs to be humble.”

“She will be. I’m not gonna raise her to be a fuckin’ asshole.”

Chuck just gives him a look. “And how many people have you met that were spoiled as children turned out to be nice, humble adults?”

He looks at her a moment before answering. “Alright, you got a fuckin’ point. Spoiled ass kids turn into asshole adults. So how about I’ll be the one to spoil her and you can be the disciplinarian. That way she’ll be well rounded.”

“Is that how it’s gonna work out?” she asks with a laugh. “So she’ll hate me and love you?”

He just shrugs in response.

A few weeks later, Chuck walks into Negan’s office with Maddie in her arms. “Oh, hey, Simon,” she greets when she sees him sitting on the other side of Negan’s desk. “I didn’t know you were up here.”

As soon as Maddie sees Simon start to stand from his seat, she reaches out for him.

“There’s my girl,” Simon calls out and takes the little girl from Chuck.

Negan lets out a huff, but it’s not entirely serious. “I thought we were fuckin’ working here.”

Simon completely ignores Negan as he starts to wiggle his mustache and make faces the way that Maddie always loves.

Chuck can’t help but laugh along with her daughter. It’s so funny to her that the two most powerful men she knows are reduced to mush by a little girl. “She loves her Uncle Si Si,” she mentions.

Once Maddie stops laughing hysterically, she starts to grab at Simon’s mustache. And he, of course, lets her.

“How are your other kids?” Chuck asks, referring to his niece and nephews that arrived just over a month ago. “I haven’t seen them in a few days.”

“They’re great.” He looks up from Maddie to speak. “I’m so glad that they’re here. They had a helluva time out in the shit, walking halfway across the country just to see if I was still alive. I’m just so fuckin’ happy they’re safe now.”

As Simon is talking with Chuck, Maddie keeps patting his face, wanting his attention back on her. She starts to babble a little, then a clear “Si Si” comes out of her mouth.

Everyone is quiet, wondering if they heard what they think they did.

“No fuckin’ way my kid’s first word is fuckin’ Si Si.” Negan gets up from his desk to stomp over to them. “Say dada,” he prompts Maddie.

She looks at him a moment, then back to Simon. “Si Si.”

Chuck walks closer, too. “Did you say ‘Si Si’?”

Maddie giggles. “Si Si!”

Simon still hasn’t said anything, but when Chuck looks at him, she can see tears in his eyes. She lays her hand on his shoulder. “She does love her Uncle Si Si.”

“This is bullshit,” Negan gripes, not noticing how this had affected Simon. “Dada. Say dada,” he tries again.

Maddie laughs, but just babbles at her father.

Later on that night, Negan is still complaining about it as they get in bed. “My first kid’s first word was for fuckin’ Simon ?!”

Chuck rolls her eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is.”

“Stop being a baby.”

He shoots her a look. “Why aren’t you pissed?”

Of course she had hoped that Maddie’s first word would be mama, but the second she saw the look on Simon’s face and how much it meant to him, she was fine with it.

Simon never had any kids. He never expressly said why, but Chuck knew it was because of the love he had for Lucille. He never had any serious relationships because he could never stop loving her, even though she was with Negan. In a weird way, Chuck feels guilt over that, even though that past had nothing to do with her.

But then there was the way he reacted to the news of her own pregnancy with Negan. It hurt him. Though he got past it, Chuck still feels a pain for him that he’s never been able to get what he wants. Despite the fact that he and Patty have gotten serious and moved in together, they’ll most likely never make a family since Patty is middle aged and probably can’t get pregnant anymore.

The way Simon is with Maddie and his other niece and nephews proves that he would have been a great father. And deep down, Chuck knows that he would have wanted that for himself. Which is sad to her.

Chuck shrugs in response. “It meant a lot to Simon.”

“So?”

“He’s never gonna be a father, Negan. We’re most likely gonna get more chances to get first words. He never will. And with the way he is with Maddie and his sister’s kids, it’s obvious he would’ve loved to be a father.”

Negan lets out a sigh and scrubs his hand over his face. “Shit. Am I an asshole?”

“No. I get why you were disappointed she didn’t say ‘dada’, but Simon is part of our family and I love him. I want to see him happy.”

Negan lets out a groan. “I don’t like hearing you say you love another man.”

She giggles and swats at his chest lightly. “It’s not like that. He’s like the brother I never had.”

“Gross. He wants to fuck you.”

“He does not.”

“You think if I was completely out of the picture he wouldn’t fuckin’ jump at the chance to be with you?”

“Stop,” she answers with a giggle then cuddles up to lay on his chest.

“Simon is the most loyal fuckin’ guy I’ve ever known. Lord knows I haven’t deserved it, but I trust that man with my life. But I know he doesn’t get over shit. He loved Lucille the whole time she was married to me. Never fuckin’ wavered. I bet he loves her just as much now. And I know he loves you the same.”

“That makes me feel bad, Negan.”

He squeezes her into him so he can kiss the top of her head. “It’s not your fault he loves you.”

“I know, but I still feel bad about it. I’m just really happy that he’s found love with Patty.”

“Yeah.” Negan nods, though he seems a little skeptical. “I just want you to know... If anything happens to me-“

Chuck sits up to look at him. “Stop. I don’t want to hear this.”

“No.” He pushes her hair back from her face. “Just know that I’m okay with you being with him. He’d lay down his life for you. He’d treat you right.”

“If something happens to you, I’m not gonna be with anyone else.”

“I want you to be happy...”

“My mom never dated after my dad died. I know men asked her out, but she never took them up on their offers. When I got a little older, I asked her why. She just said that she already met the love of her life. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but I do now.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I won’t be. I’ll have family and friends. My mother was never lonely or unhappy. She just knew that she’d never love another man like she did my father.”

Negan gently pulls her down to meet her in a kiss. “Since you mentioned growing our family...” He flips her around so he’s on top of her.

She can’t help but squeal at the motion. “Negan, that’s not gonna happen yet,” she gets out between giggles.

“You know, we’re not getting any younger.”

She pushes him up to give him a scathing look. “Calling a woman old isn’t a great thing to do if you’re wanting to get laid.”

He just laughs. “That’s a good point.”

“I don’t wanna try until Maddie is at least a year old,” she says more seriously.

“Alright.” He bends down to kiss her right behind her ear. “Doesn’t mean we can’t practice,” he whispers.

Just a few days later, Maddie adds both “mama” and “dada” to her vocabulary, which she uses generously, much to Negan’s delight.

“Dada,” Maddie calls out from her mother’s arms.

“She doesn’t wanna go, Mama.” Negan bends down to kiss his daughter on the head.

“Come with us,” Chuck suggests.

Negan lets out a huff. “I got shit to do. Unfortunately.” He gives her a smirk. “You could come with me .”

“I want to get back to work, Negan. And the kids are excited to learn music again. And I think Maddie will enjoy herself.”

“Alright, fine.” He gives Chuck a kiss then takes Maddie from her. “I’ll walk you guys down to the fuckin’ classroom.”

The little family and their ever present guards head downstairs. Once they get into the room, the kids all look at them, excited to get a reprieve from there normal studies. Despite what Negan had said earlier about having work to do, he ends up staying to watch Chuck pick up where she left off with the students, which is how to read sheet music. Each of the kids has a little keyboard so they can find the notes and follow along as Chuck plays the piano that has been set up in the room. Some of the older students are a little more advanced, so she goes over chords with them.

As Chuck plays and sings, she sees Negan with a big smile on his face watching on, Maddie bobbing away happily in his arms. It brings a smile to her own face seeing them so happy. Not only that, but the fact that the kids seem to be enjoying the music makes that smile stretch just that much further.

When Halloween comes around, everyone at The Sanctuary seems to be excited. People remember the party from last year and want to make this year’s celebration even bigger. Chuck, of course, gets her costume all ready as well as one for Maddie. When Negan first sees them, he can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“You are so fuckin’ adorable,” he calls out.

Since Chuck was a cat last year, she thought it would be really cute if she dressed up as a mouse this year. She found some gray tights and a gray long sleeved T-shirt and paired that with pink converses, white gloves, and mouse ears that she made herself along with a overalls cut into shorts. (She’s not confident enough with her post baby body to only wear form fitted tights.) For Maddie, she found a bright yellow onesie and drew little circles on it so it looked like holes, making Maddie look like a slice of cheese.

Chuck shrugs a shoulder. “I thought it was cute.”

He walks over to them, placing a kiss on Maddie’s head as she sits in Chuck’s arms then one for Chuck, too. “So fuckin’ cute.”

“Are you dressing up?” Chuck asks.

“Thought I’d be the devil again. Make it like a tradition.”

The party goes off without a hitch, both the children’s one and the adult one after. Chuck loves to see everyone dressed up and having fun. It doesn’t escape her notice that there are a lot of women sporting pregnant bellies under their costumes. Apparently after Maddie’s birth, there was somewhat of a baby boom at The Sanctuary.

Kayla and Harlan must be busy.

Chuck smirks at the thought. Despite how busy the doctor’s office is, they must be happy that they get to bring so many new lives into the world.

The first family ends up leaving the festivities a little early, since they have an almost seven month old in tow. Once they get Maddie out of her little costume, they set her down in her crib. The little girl falls asleep almost instantly, the excitement of the day talking its toll on her.

As Chuck and Negan get into bed, she notices that he’s been unusually quiet. And as they start to get comfortable, Negan is being much more cuddly than usual, almost stiflingly so.

“Negan?”

“Hmm.”

“You alright?”

He squeezes his arms around her a little more from his position behind her. “Yeah.”

“You have me in a death grip, Negan.”

He lets out a heavy breath onto the back of her head. “It’s been a year since Eldritch took you,” he finally whispers into her hair.

Chuck starts to turn around, so Negan loosens his arms to allow her to. “He’s gone, Negan. You don’t have to worry about him.” She runs her fingers over his forehead, hoping to soothe him.

“I know he’s gone, but I can’t fuckin’ get over it. He took you from me. And her .”

Chuck bends down to kiss his lips. “She’s right over there in her room, safe and sound. You can hear her breathing on the monitor.”

“I know.” He wraps his arms around Chuck and pulls her down to lay on his chest. “I know that, but I still think of everything he fuckin’ did to you. All the ways it could’ve ended in me fuckin’ losing you and Maddie.”

“I’m sorry, Negan. I don’t want you to dwell on it, though. What we have now is so beautiful. Just remember that when your thoughts go dark.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll try, baby girl.”

In the coming days, Maddie realizes that she can crawl, which she does. A lot. When she’s in her room, she crawls over to her bookcase and pulls all the books and toys off it. Then she crawls over to her toy chest and pulls those things out. When she’s done, her whole room is trashed, which she finds pretty amusing.

During this time, Chuck has never been more thankful of the extra guards hanging around their apartment. Because Chuck loves the cats so much, she doesn’t want to close them out of the apartment by shutting the door. But since Maddie also loves the cats, she’ll follow them right out while Chuck isn't looking. Thankfully, both Laura and Arat are good at rounding Maddie up when she goes on the move. And Sam and José on the front door to Negan’s office have stopped her more than once from escaping down the hall. Maddie never seems to care too much; she loves the extra attention she gets from everyone.

Because Maddie is so mobile, Negan has to have a special case made for Lucille to keep her well out of Maddie’s reach. Instead of being left on the floor propped up on the wall, Lucille has her own display shelf near the door to the bedroom. When Negan’s in his office, Lucille is usually put up on one of the bookshelves, since Maddie routinely likes to crawl up to her daddy while he’s at his desk.

“Maddie’s coming through,” Arat calls out, like she always does.

As soon as Chuck hears this, she comes out of the apartment. “I don’t know how she’s such a little escape artist,” she says to herself.

“Let her come,” Negan answers. If he’s too busy for Maddie, he’ll tell whoever’s on the door to take her back inside. But today, Negan is just sitting at his desk talking with Dwight.

Maddie crawls right over to Negan and tries to pull herself up his legs, with Chuck following behind.

“My beautiful princess,” Negan says to her and he helps her up into his lap. “Are you escaping from Mommy?”

“I had her in her little playpen while I was reading. I thought she couldn’t get out, but I guess I was wrong.” Chuck sits down in the chair beside Dwight. “How’s Sherry? I haven’t seen her in a while,” she directs at the man beside her.

“Good,” he answers. “Real busy in the kitchen.”

Negan looks up from making faces at Maddie. “I hear everyone’s fuckin’ happy with the new head chef.”

“With all the trade and how good the harvest was this year, the kitchen’s doing real well,” Dwight comments.

“I’m glad,” Chuck says genuinely.

“She getting on ya to put a baby in her,” Negan asks. “Since everyone else is pregnant, it fuckin’ seems.”

Dwight gets a little bashful. “We’re not- I mean, nothing serious. You know- But we’ve been talking about it.”

“That’s great,” Chuck says with a smile. “I’m so happy that Maddie is going to have some kids her age to run around with.”

“She’s certainly a little social butterfly already,” Negan adds.

“I wonder who she got that from,” Chuck says sarcastically, knowing full well that Maddie is already more like Negan than she is Chuck, despite the physical resemblance to her mother.”

“Think it’d be too much if I decreed that all babies will have the middle name Negan?” the man himself comments.

Chuck just laughs, knowing that Negan is joking. “I don’t think that’s gonna catch on.”

“I like the sound of that.” Negan lifts Maddie up in the air. “You like that, princess?”

The little girl just laughs.

“She agrees,” Negan determines, faking seriousness.

——— Negan’s POV ———

Before the winter sets in, Rick fuckin’ requests that all us leaders in the area should meet at Alexandria to discuss some things. It’s probably a good fuckin’ idea, but I don’t want to leave my family. So I think that shit over. Seriously.

With how often the area between us and Alexandria is patrolled and the fact that no one’s really seen any fuckin’ biters near the road in a long ass time, I decide to take Chuck and Maddie with me. It’s got me anxious as fuck, but I think it’s gonna be good.

I know I’m “Negan” and I’m certainly the fuckin’ leader of The Sanctuary, but I’ve honestly been going over shit with Chuck. It’s fuckin’ nice to have someone like her to rule with me. I mean, I always had Simon and I love that fucker for all the shit he does here, but he’s more than likely to just go along with what I say. That’s fuckin’ amazing most of the time, but there’s been instances where Chuck’s come in with a different perspective and it’s been better for everyone involved.

I’ve been so concerned with keeping my people alive that that’s were I fuckin’ go to when I gotta make a decision. Always. But Chuck’s been the one to make sure people are happy , too. When shit is real bad, like how it was when this place started, happiness ain’t a priority. But now that we got enough food and clean water and we don’t have to worry about getting our dicks bitten off by undead fucks, we need to make sure our people are emotionally good, too. Cuz discontent can break nations just as much as hunger can.

So, yeah, part of the reason I’m bringing my girls with me is just cuz I fuckin’ want them with me. But part of me wants Chuck to be at my side as the leader she is. She might not see herself that way, but I do. She can rally people just as much as I can, but in a completely different way. I did it with fear, intimidation, and rigid rules. You piss me off, you go against the greater good, you’re out.

But Chuck... she’s gotten the people behind her by being her sweet ass self. She’s smart and funny and fuckin’ adorable and people know she has their best interests in mind. She’s set up swap meets outside the point system to help the people that have been struggling. She knitted so many fuckin’ blankets just to make sure people won’t be cold this winter. And what I’m most proud of, she’s been good to those kids she teaches music to by tutoring them in whatever else they want to learn. Shit, one kid brought up World War 2, so Chuck found a book and started talking to him about it after school was actually done. Anything those kids are curious about, science, history, even old movies, she’ll talk to them about it. I know that shit might not seem important now, but it fuckin’ is. It’s how we raise people and not fuckin’ monsters that just survive in this shit.

The weather’s not too fuckin’ bad yet since it’s just the first week on November, but we still all bundle up in case shit goes downhill. Me, Chuck, and my princess are going to be in a wagon drawn by our horses. It’s gonna be less comfortable and take fuckin’ longer than a car would, but it’s all we got now. Cars are kinda fuckin’ useless without gas, and that ethanol shit we’ve been making really doesn’t work in most cars just in its own. It works better in the tractors and tillers, anyway, so that’s where it all goes.

The wagon we’re in is like an old west wagon, but we took some car seats and put them in there so we’re not getting splinters in our asses. Dwight and Fat Joey are up front driving the thing while me, Chuck, Maddie, and Laura are in the back.

“I didn’t expect the road to look so good,” Chuck comments after a while.

“We’re on top of this shit,” I say. “Our guys and Rick’s patrol all this shit. Keep the roads clear if trees fall or whatever. We can’t exactly repave, so if there’s cracks, we fill them up with gravel so we don’t lose a fuckin’ wagon wheel.”

Chuck gives me a smile as Maddie starts to fuss in her arms. “I’m so proud of you doing all this.”

I just chuckle back, but it does make me feel fuckin’ good that she’s on board with everything I do. “Is she hungry?” I ask, changing the subject to our daughter.

“Yeah.”

“Do we need to stop?”

“No. I can do it here. Just hold her a second.” She passes Maddie off to me as she pulls her shirt up.

“Keep your eyes up front,” I call out to Dwight and Fat Joey. I don’t want them getting an eyeful of my wife’s tit. Even if it’s gonna be covered by Maddie’s face.

Laura leans forward from her seat behind us. “You planning on weaning her any time soon?”

“Not really,” Chuck answers as she situates Maddie in her arms to start feeding. “We have her eating some solid things, but breast milk is so good for babies.”

“She’s prepared to breastfeed Maddie until she’s a teenager,” I joke. We’ve talked about this more than once. I think it’s fuckin’ weird to have a full on toddler sucking on a tit, but Chuck insists it’s perfectly fine.

“That’s not true,” Chuck calls out with a laugh. “Just maybe until she’s like... five or so.”

“Five?!” I say in shock. “She’s got a bunch of fuckin’ teeth by then.”

“Yeah,” Laura pipes up. “Your poor nipples.”

Chuck just laughs. “Breast milk is better for brain development!” she calls out, pleading her case.

Once we get to Alexandria, we’re greeted by Rick and his gang. Aaron, of course, comes rushing out to see Chuck and Maddie.

“She’s getting so big!” he cries out and takes Maddie into his arms.

Maggie and Glenn walk up to us with him carrying their baby Herschel. Aaron brings Maddie close so she can see someone her own fuckin’ age for once. Both babies look confused, but then start babbling and patting each other with their little fuckin’ hands.

“He’s adorable,” Chuck comments to Maggie.

“She’s beautiful,” Maggie responds of my little princess.

Maggie walks over to Chuck and hugs her. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for me. You saved my son’s life by giving us your milk.”

“Any mother would do that,” Chuck says to her. “Without any formula now... We just have to take care of each other.”

I let out a laugh. “We were literally just talking about this shit on the way here. My lovely wife wants to keep our kid on the teat until she turns five.”

Chuck just gives me a look. “It’s not that weird! Historically speaking,” she makes the excuse.

“Well I can’t wait until I can play around with your tits without them leaking all over he place.”

“Oh my god, Negan.” Chuck’s face is bright red. Whoops.

“What?” I try to downplay it. “I’m pretty sure they know we fuck. We’ve got a kid.” I look around at everyone that heard what I said. Some of them are stifling laughs and some are looking a little offended. What-the-fuck-ever. They should be used to me by now.

When I see Carl trying desperately to hide his face, I decide to fuck with him a little. “He knows what I’m talking about.”

Everyone looks at him and it’s fuckin’ hilarious how he squirms.

“Negan,” I hear Michonne’s low mom voice scold me.

“He’s, what, sixteen?” I start. “Tits make up like 80% of his thoughts now.”

Rick just shakes his head, but I can still see a little smile on his face. “Stop teasing my son, please,” he finally says.

“Alright.” I back down from that. “So what’s this fuckin’ meeting we’re having, anyway.”

“We’re still waiting for Ezekiel,” Rick tells me. “So you guys can relax until they get here.”

Me and Chuck follow Aaron, still carrying Maddie, to his house. We’re staying with him tonight and he seems fuckin’ excited about it.

“I borrowed a little crib for her,” he tells us. “It’s set up in the spare room for you guys. I also have a play pen and some toys to keep her occupied, since you said she likes to crawl around so much.”

“Thanks Uncle Aaron,” Chuck says to him.

We all bum around for about twenty minutes until the lion king and his crew finally make their appearance. Me and Chuck with Maddie (and Laura) go to a newly constructed meeting room behind their church along with Rick’s A team and Ezekiel and a few of his guys. We set up the play pen for Maddie and Hershel and Judith, too, across the room with Laura and Olivia the Alexandrian watching over them.

“So,” I slap my hand down on the long table we’re all sitting around, “what are we fuckin’ discussing here?”

Rick lets out a breath before he fuckin’ starts. “Here at Alexandria, we’ve decided to run this place as a council. Me, Michonne, Gabriel, Maggie, and Aaron currently sit on this council. Every decision about the community comes to a vote and we’ve found that has been working well for us.”

Michonne jumps in. “I’ve been reading a lot about constitutional law and I thought, with how our community has grown and thrived, that we should draw up a constitution for ourselves. But then I thought, our community isn’t alone. We’re tied with your communities,” she gestures to me and Ezekiel. “Through trade, intermarriage, people coming and going, and through fighting a common enemy. So we thought,” she looks to the members of her council then back to us, “we should draw up a charter. Cement this relationship and everything it means to us in writing.”

As I think it over, Ezekiel jumps right in. “That is a wonderful idea,” he says with that huge ass smile on his face. “The Kingdom is ready and willing to participate in this endeavor.”

Everyone then looks to me expectantly. Maybe a little nervously. I just shrug. “Doesn’t sound like the dumbest of fuckin’ things. So I guess I’m in, too.”

The Alexandrians all look like they have something to say but they don’t wanna fuckin’ say it. Me and Zeke are clearly out of the loop, which kinda pisses me off.

“Yes?” I prod so they’ll spit it the fuck out.

They all look to Aaron who clears his throat before he starts to fuckin’ talk. “I’ve been spending some time at Hilltop,” he starts, which I already fuckin’ know since Jesus told me he’s training him to fight. Which I think is just a gay euphemism, but whatever. “I asked Jesus to come here today for the discussion, but he declined because he didn’t want to make waves...” he makes sure to look at me, “with you.”

“Alright. So?” I respond.

“He’s the leader of Hilltop,” Michonne answers.

“He’s the governor of Hilltop,” I correct her. “ I’m the leader. Hilltop is under my control.”

Gabriel decides to jump in. “We think it’s time for Hilltop to gain its independence,” he says in that creepy ass tone of his.

“Oh, do you ?” I bite back. “What the fuck is this?” I call out as I look around. “Did Hilltop put you up to this?”

Aaron holds his hands up. “No. They didn’t.”

“Then why the fuck are you putting your nose into my business?”

Michonne answers. “We would like them to be involved in this charter. They should have just as many rights as we do.”

I let out a huff. “All I’m fuckin’ hearing is that you want to fuckin’ cut my population and resources. I’m not a fucking idiot, Rick. I know I got more people than you or The Kingdom. More crops, too. But that might not be the fuckin’ case if I cut Hilltop off. So let me ask you this, asshole. Are you planning on starting shit with me? Going to war, is that it?”

“No,” Rick responds firmly. “Absolutely not, Negan. That is not what we want.”

“Well then what the fuck is this? A humanitarian issue? The Hillfolk aren’t fuckin’ starving. I’m not taking all their shit to their detriment like fuckin’ England did with Ireland two hundred goddamn years ago. I’m fuckin’ good to Hilltop. My men keep them safe there and it’s pissing me right the fuck off that you’re insinuating that they’d be better off without me!”

I feel Chuck’s hand grasp my knee from under the table, distracting me for a second. Which I’m sure was her intention, though I’m fuckin’ glad she decided to do it discretely and not in front of all these people.

As I’m taking a breath, she clears her throat. “I think the idea to have our own constitutions is a very good one,” she starts, and I can tell she’s nervous. “And this charter is something we can work on, but I think it makes more sense to get those constitutions in writing before we take that next step. Before we start to discuss the details of how our communities interact with each other, we should lock down what our citizens rights are first. For The Sanctuary, that will include the rights of Hilltop’s people. Any possible changes to our relationship with them will be discussed by us and them .”

Everyone mulls over what she said. Even me. I’m a little fuckin’ surprised that she not only managed to de escalate the situation, but she told everyone here that Hilltop is our business. And our business is our business.

Rick clears his throat to move on. “Yes. We should shoot to have our separate constitutions finalized by the spring. Then, we can reconvene to discuss any treaties.”

“Until then,” Ezekiel jumps in, “we should continue our trade as we have been. Weather permitting, of course, as winter is almost upon us. And if, god forbid, one of our communities finds itself in need of assistance, we should all pledge to come to her aid in whatever way necessary.”

We all agree and with that, this fuckin’ meeting adjourns. Though I’m sure it didn’t end the way Rick and the fuckin’ rest of his goddamn gang had hoped. Now me and Chuck are off to Aaron’s house to stay the night and I’m not fuckin’ sure I can keep my mouth shut.

Which, of course, I can’t. As soon as we put Maddie to bed, I lay into Aaron as we sit in his living room.

“What the fuck, Aaron?” I manage to keep my voice down so I don’t wake my princess upstairs, but my tone is still fuckin’ angry.

“I’m sorry,” he has the sense to say.

Chuck looks over to her uncle. “Why didn’t you tell us before that this is what you guys were planning? We talk like everyday.”

“We wanted to do this officially ,” Aaron explains. “The council didn’t want me using this family connection-“

“You’re on the fuckin’ council!” I call out.

Chuck lays her hand on my shoulder to calm me down. “Maybe he’s right.”

I whip my head to glare at her. “You’re taking his fuckin’ side?!”

“No. I’m not. I don’t think they should be getting between us and our affairs with our people, but maybe we shouldn’t be discussing it outside of...” she thinks a moment, “office hours. So tensions don’t rise.”

Aaron lets out a heavy breath. “I don’t want this to get between us,” he says to me. “You’re my family. And I love you for the way you treat Chuck and Maddie. We...” he pauses, “ Alexandria ,” he corrects, “isn’t going to demand you do anything. We just, I don’t know, wanted to suggest it. Keep that option open for Hilltop.”

I shake my head at that. “You had to’ve known that shit would piss me off.”

“I did. That’s why I thought if it came from me, it might be better.”

“And what about Jesus? And tell the fuckin’ truth, Aaron.” I ask, wondering if I’m gonna have to bash his manbun head in for starting a fuckin’ coup.

“He didn’t start this. Honestly. You can blame me if you need to blame someone. I’ve been heading out to Hilltop a lot and I told Rick and everyone how great the place is run. I really don’t know who put the idea in everyone’s head, but we all just thought that maybe if the Hilltop was independent, it could make us all stronger in the end.”

I sit back into the couch, letting out a fuckin’ huff in response. When I look over to Chuck, I can see that she’s tired. “You wanna go to bed?” I ask her. I’m fuckin’ done with this conversation anyway.

“Yeah,” she answers.

I get up from the couch with a groan and hold my hand out to her. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get some sleep.”

When Chuck stands up, so does Aaron.

“I really am sorry, Negan,” he says from behind me. “I don’t think we handled that right. But we really just want what is best for everyone, all the communities.”

I turn back at him and nod. “Well...” I look down then look back up to him, “since you decided to spring shit on me, as punishment, I’m gonna have loud sex with Chuck in your guest room.”

Aaron scrunches up his face. “Come on, man.”

Chuck slaps my shoulder, then looks over to her uncle with her cheeks all red. “That’s-That’s not gonna happen.”

I just laugh as I continue up the stairs. I’m still fuckin’ pissed, but I guess it’s not worth throwing away my relationship with Chuck’s uncle. Or with the other communities. I just fuckin’ hope they don’t press the issue because I’m not sure what will happen if they do.

#writehavoc the flame is gone the fire remains #writehavoc writes #negan #negan x oc #negan fanfiction #negan x ofc #negan x original female character #negans thirst squad #negan/original female character #negan / oc #negan / ofc #negan / original female character #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #The Walking Dead AU #the flame is gone the fire remains

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livingston31livingston-blog · 5 years

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Exercise Recovery Consume alcohol Is actually For You?

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linbroinc · 6 years

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Here Are The 14 Coconut Products People Are Consuming Right Now

People associate coconuts with tropical vacations and foods. Botanically, coconuts are known as dry drupes or a one-seeded drupe. A drupe is a fruit with one seed in the center, and other drupes include olives or peaches. The coconut is often referred to as a nut, a fruit, and a seed because of the seed it contains.

Coconuts are known for their versatility. The term comes from the 16th-century Spanish or Portuguese word “coco” meaning skull or head. They are unique because of the clear liquid they contain known as coconut water or milk.

Manufacturers process coconuts for oil and milk. They are edible on their own when ripe. You can even make charcoal from the shell. Dried coconut is commonly known as copra and often eaten.

People use coconut leaves and shells for decorating and furnishings. Coconut even has religious and cultural importance in some societies such as India.

General Coconut Health Benefits

Once criticized by dieticians because of its high-fat content, people are now looking at the potential health benefits of coconuts. We used to utilize coconut in candy bars and sugary mixed drinks, but today we use this fruit for other purposes, too.

Coconut has gained popularity over the years as a healthy alternative to dairy milk. We now cook with coconut oil, add it to our oatmeal and coffee, blend coconut into smoothies, and hydrate with coconut water. People are even linking coconut to the word “superfood” though there is no scientific evidence supporting this use.

Coconut is a great source of satisfying and digestion-friendly fiber. It also contains essential vitamins and minerals such as iron, vitamin B6, manganese, magnesium, selenium, copper, and zinc. Lauric acid is a primary component in coconut’s saturated fat content and it’s known to assist in raising HDL or good cholesterol.

Coconut water also contains potassium that regulates blood pressure and helps to balance the body’s sodium levels. Coconut flour is a popular alternative to white flour for people following gluten-free diets. There are 5 g of fiber in 2 Tbsp of coconut flour. According to the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, it is not more hydrating than regular water, however.

Coconut Products and Latest Trends

Coconut trees can grow in a variety of soils but typically grow in tropical or humid climates. The top 5 countries that produce coconuts are India, Indonesia, Brazil, the Philippines, and Sri Lanka. Small-scale farmers usually harvest coconut.

Most retailers would go through a distributor/importer to purchase coconut products in bulk and/or wholesale from countries that export the most coconut products. Companies such as Linbro that specialize in locating and procuring high-quality products can help locate the right suppliers for you.

For the general consumer, many of these coconut products are available in ethnic or local grocery stores. You can always contact local ethnic or specialty stores to see if they carry coconut foods. If they don’t often these stores can tell you where you might find them.

Common local grocery stores such as Martins and Kroger carry more unique products than ever before. Amazon, Thrive Market, and Publix are other great places to find common coconut products as well as specialty foods.

Raw Coconut

The term copra refers to the coconut extracted for use in food. They also contain milk and water that people cook with and eat alone. It’s a refreshing drink, and you can cook with coconut oil. Coconut shrimp is a trendy seafood dish found in beachy and tropical areas. Coconut is also an excellent additive to make recipes and food sweet such as granola bars.

Cooks bake with coconut since it’s a great ingredient for coconut pies and cookies. It also goes in many mixed drink recipes and flavors some alcohol such as Parrot Bay and Malibu.

Coconut Aminos

Coconut Aminos are a popular and healthy alternative to soy sauce. It’s an umami, savory seasoning created from coconut blossom sap that’s fermented and vegan salt that is gluten and soy-free. Coconut Aminos are great for those on a diet low in sodium because they have 65 percent less sodium than traditional tamari or soy sauce. The taste is sweet- and salty with a buttery note.

Use it as a dip for your sushi, a marinade for poultry and meat, seasoning for salad dressings, stews, and soups, as well as a substitution for soy sauce in Asian dishes. This sauce is popular for those on the paleo diet.

Coconut Cream

Coconut cream is a condensed, delicious cream similar to coconut milk but less watery. The difference is much like that between whole milk and cream. With a mild, coconut flavor its consistency is paste-like. Coconut cream has a higher fat content than coconut milk and is a little sweet.

This cream is a great product to add to smoothies, shakes, and Pina Coladas. Many Southeast Asian cultures use coconut cream as a mainstay ingredient such as Singapore, Thailand, Cambodia, Indonesia, and Vietnam. Its also used in Polynesian recipes. Examples of recipes are Coconut Curry Sauce, Thai Fish or Chicken Curry, Coconut Cream Pie, and Coconut-Chocolate Mousse.

Coconut Milk

Unlike the name suggests, coconut milk is not a dairy product. It’s almost as creamy, however. You obtain coconut milk by shredding a mature coconut’s fruit, mixing it with water, and pureeing it. Afterward, strain the milk to eliminate any pulp. Coconut milk is not the same as coconut water that comes from green, immature coconuts.

Use coconut milk as a healthy substitute for dairy in smoothies, cereal, tea, and more. It’s also great for the paleo diet.

Coconut milk promotes healthy metabolism and heart health. It also reduces inflammation and fights bacteria and viruses. It’s vegan-friendly and reduces stomach ulcers.

Coconut Water

This water packs more potassium than 4 bananas and is naturally cholesterol and fat-free. Many athletes use it as a natural sports drink instead of commercial ones sold today. Coconut water is an excellent way to hydrate your body and help with kidney stones and hangovers.

This sweet, nutty water comes from inside the coconut and its easy to digest with electrolytes and sugar. Coconut water comes from young coconuts before they mature fully.

This water can possibly lower your blood pressure and replenish electrolytes that you lose when you are sick in cases of diarrhea. Coconut water is versatile, packed with nutrients, combats diabetes, contains healthy anti-oxidants, and much more.

Coconut Whipping Cream

If you’re allergic to dairy-based whipped cream then coconut whipped cream is for you. Its vegan-friendly as well as gluten and soy-free. This whipped cream comes from coconut milk and is more concentrated than traditional whipped cream.

Dip fruits in it and use it in recipes to replace dairy whipped cream. You can also top smoothies and coffees with this delicious cream. Thai Kitchen Coconut Cream is a great brand that is decadent and creamier for richer smoothies, curries, and soups.

Coconut cream promotes a healthy metabolism and heart health. It fights bacteria and viruses and reduces inflammation in the body.

Condensed Coconut Milk

People who are lactose intolerant as well as paleos and vegans love condensed coconut milk because of the flexibility it offers with recipes. Manufacturers make condensed coconut milk from the shredded flesh of fully mature coconuts. The flesh mixes with water to create the finished product but requires more water to make it palatable for recipe use.

Replace traditional condensed milk with the coconut version, and chefs love it for making coconut whipping cream. It also adds richness to slow-roasted ribs or chicken thighs.

Like the other coconut products, it promotes heart health and a healthy metabolism. Condensed coconut cream is soy, gluten, and lactose-free.

Dairy Free Coconut Milk Beverage

These delicious, rich drinks bring the same health benefits as other coconut products and are great for a creamy drink to-go. Coconut milk beverages are very portable and are excellent alternatives for students that live in small spaces.

So Delicious has tasty coconut milk beverages that you can drink alone or mix in recipes and coffee. Their products don’t contain, gluten, nuts, soy, or dairy making them a great drink for people with allergies. These products allow people who are lactose intolerant to enjoy creamy, milky beverages that they never could before.

Desiccated Coconut

Ordinary coconut doesn’t have a stable shelf-life alone. Desiccated coconut is a form that chefs prefer to use for cooking because it stores well. Coconut manufacturers craft this product by removing the moisture from the flesh and then grating it.

Besides utilizing it for cooking, you can sprinkle it on dishes such as berries and cream or oatmeal for extra flavor. Desiccated coconut has a mellow sweetness and also pairs well with trail mix.

As a delicious promoter of heart health and healthy metabolism, desiccated coconut is paleo and vegan-friendly. It’s an excellent product to use in cooking and baking. People with allergies can enjoy dishes that previously used dairy products by replacing them with coconut.

Flavored Coconut Water

This hydrating water harvested from immature coconut comes in a variety of flavors from plain to guava. Mixing other flavors with the plain water enhances is subtle coconut taste. Like other coconut products, it has many health benefits including fighting bacteria and viruses and reducing inflammation. It’s full of electrolytes and promotes a healthy heart and metabolism.

Flavored coconut water is a great beverage for traveling or going out for a walk. Many people prefer to drink it after exercise instead of plain or filtered water.

Sparkling Coconut Water

Sparkling coconut water is a new way to enjoy this hydrating beverage, and it adds a touch of sophistication to your diet. Just like other coconut water, it’s full of electrolytes and the same health benefits of other coconut products.

It’s a refreshing alternative to sports drinks and is naturally full of Vitamin C, manganese, potassium, calcium, fiber, and magnesium. Sparkling coconut water also contains antioxidants and may help control blood sugar levels. It can assist with the reduction of stone and crystal formation in your kidneys and is packed full of amino acids such as alanine, arginine, serine, and cysteine.

Toasted Coconut Bites

This decadent and nutritious treat is great as an after-dinner dessert or coffee accompaniment. It’s great for people with a sweet tooth that want an alternative to sugary sweets. Toasted coconut bites are low in calories, too. They make an excellent snack for those on the go.

With a mild, nutty taste, toasted coconut bites make a great snack at parties and are sure to impress. Their biggest health benefit is their reduced sugar and calories making them an excellent choice for those on a diet as well. These treats are also an alternative snack for people with wheat allergies.

Toasted Coconut Chips

Toasted coconut chips have a bit of crunch and chewiness that makes them a great topping for desserts and meals. They are naturally a little sweet and rich in nutrients. These chips are extremely versatile. Add them to savory dishes and use them in cake-baking. You can also add them to shakes and smoothies, and they are a popular additive in trail mix because they have no sugar added.

This treat is also high in protein and low in calories. Toasted coconut chips are a healthier snack option than sweets or chocolate and great for people eating gluten-free.

Virgin Coconut Oil

The primary difference between virgin coconut oil and coconut oil is the extraction process. Virgin coconut oil is from fresh coconuts and then spun in a centrifuge. It does not include any heat or bleaching step. This process yields a pure, wholesome oil that’s nutrient dense because it preserves the natural phytonutrients and antioxidants.

It has many health benefits including the removal of dead hair and skin cells as well as repairing tissue. It improves your vibrancy and gives your skin and hair a youthful look. It’s also a great anti-aging ingredient.

Virgin coconut oil is wonderful in dishes such as Coconut Crusted Jumbo Shrimp, cakes, and margaritas. It’s a versatile product that adds flavor to any meal. Nutiva Organic Virgin Coconut Oil is a fine example of an excellent brand of cooking oil.

As you can see, these coconut products provide a broad range of health benefits. They also add flavor, vitamins, and minerals to many recipes and foods. Try any of these foods for a flavorful boost to your health.

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