#so i usually just think things live inside my head exclusively

[enochianribs]

destiel is reall????????????????????????????????? we didn't mass hallucinate that??????????????????????????????????????????????

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Saturday 8/17: nicknames and terms of endearment | naming conventions | 1300 words | rated T

Tommy wasn’t much of a nickname guy. He shortened names, of course – he wasn’t the kind of asshole who insisted on calling Hen Henrietta or Eddie Edmundo – but Howie was almost always Howie, not Chimney, even after they reconnected, and the handful of other firefighters they knew with goofy monikers were still almost always referred to by their given names.

Buck had asked him about it, once; he’d assumed that an Army pilot would have been all in on nicknames and callsigns. But Tommy had simply shaken his head and said something about how, in his experience, they always came from negative moments.

Haven’t you ever noticed that? He’d said. They’re almost always based on something bad. A mistake or a close call. I don’t know, I just don’t think people should be known for something they fuck up when they’re a probie, or a raw recruit. When they’re still learning.

And Tommy wasn’t wrong; most nicknames did stem from some kind of fuck up. Usually something funny or ironic, but not always. To Buck it seemed almost like a kind of hazing ritual – maybe rite of passage would be a kinder term – like, can you really join the club if you can’t handle a little joke? But Buck also saw Tommy’s point. Saw how the loss of a name could mean the loss of agency, loss of identity, loss of control over one’s own person in a context when so much control had already been willingly given up. To service, whether that meant the military or the LAFD or just being the guy always willing to step in and do something.

Buck saw that, even if he didn’t feel it himself. For him, getting a nickname had been freeing – had been an opening up, a door to an identity he’d wanted for a long time without being able to name.

Becoming Buck instead of Evan had been – it was hard to describe. He’d always secretly wanted a nickname, wanted something cool and casual and jocular, something to show that he belonged somewhere. But Evan didn’t exactly lend itself to shortening or rhyming, and nothing he’d done in his youth had ever set him apart. Not in a way that mattered; not in a way that stuck.

He’d lived more than twenty five years of his life being Evan and feeling vaguely uncomfortable about it – until the fire academy, when someone had called him Buck and he’d just run with it, made it happen, finally carved out his own little niche in this world that suddenly meant so much to him.

And that’s how it had been – he’d just been Buck – until Tommy came along.

He hadn’t meant to introduce himself as Evan, when they met in the hangar. In fact, he hadn’t introduced himself at all; Chimney had been the one to make introductions. “Tommy, allow me to introduce you to your flight attendants for this evening’s little jaunt: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz. Boys, this is Tommy Kinard, formerly of the 118 and currently probably regretting picking up my calls.”

They’d all shaken hands, faces serious. The weight of the moment and what they were about to do was heavy on their shoulders, despite Howie’s wisecracking, and it hadn’t even occurred to Buck to throw out his usual line about his nickname. And later, during his tour of Tommy’s station, it hadn’t really registered for Buck until they were halfway through that the other man had exclusively referred to him as Evan. It felt too late to correct him by the time he’d noticed.

And besides, he’d realized – much later – how much he liked the sound of Evan coming out of Tommy’s mouth.

Neither of them were big on pet names. Tommy would throw out the occasional sweetheart, which always made Buck melt a little inside, but it wasn’t a regular thing. Buck sometimes went for baby in intimate moments – babe, with what Tommy called “a tone,” if he was being a bit of a brat – but it was often as much for comedic effect as anything else.

They mostly just stuck to names. For Evan, the novelty of murmuring Tommy as he kissed his boyfriend’s Adam’s apple or his stubbly cheek or down the line of his happy trail never seemed to wear off. The masculine body under his hands and lips. The masculine name on his tongue.

He asked Tommy, once, after explaining his own weirdly complicated history with his name – and his parents, and his dead brother, and his long unwitting search for an identity – why he went by Tommy, not Tom or Thomas.

“I guess it sounds a little juvenile, doesn’t it?” Tommy said. “For a guy in his forties.”

“I mean, I don’t think so,” Buck said. “I think – I don’t know, I think it fits you. Like, I’ve heard other people call you Tom, but if I called you Tom, I feel like that’s a different person, almost. Someone I don’t even know.”

“I feel the same way about Buck,” Tommy admitted. “Hen says it, I don’t even blink. I know it’s you. But if I say it? It’s like, who is that.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy shifted a little on the couch. Plucked at his jeans, wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and then immediately shifted again so he could run his fingers through Buck’s hair.

“I’ve told you a little about my dad,” he said eventually. “About how we don’t… get along. Never did, really, even when I was just a kid.” He paused, for long enough that Buck looked up enquiringly, only to see Tommy staring off into the middle distance.

“But I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that I was named after him,” Tommy continued eventually.

“Wait, really?”

“Really. I am technically a junior. Thomas Edward Kinard, Jr. He actually wanted my birth certificate to say “the second,” but my mom put her foot down.”

“Wow. I had… no idea.”

“I stopped using the junior a year or two into my stint in the service. Dropped it completely when I came out to Los Angeles. Changed my driver’s license and just… didn’t put it on the paperwork. I’m sure that won’t come back to bite me in the ass someday.”

Tommy laughed, short and sarcastic, and Buck frowned. He’d only heard that laugh a couple of times, but he didn’t like it. He wormed his way out from beneath Tommy’s arm so he could take one of his broad hands between his own, petting over hairy knuckles and a calloused palm.

“Have you ever thought about changing it? Choosing something new?” he asked hesitantly.

“No. Never. He took enough from me, over the years,” Tommy said harshly. “He doesn’t get to take my name, too, even if it did come from him. Besides, it pisses him off enough that I went by Tommy past the age of sixteen. Changing my name would feel like… would feel like giving in.”

“I get that,” Buck said thoughtfully.

He squeezed Tommy’s hand one more time, then put it aside and climbed carefully into his boyfriend’s lap. Tommy let out a soft grunt of surprise as Buck wound his arms around his neck and tipped his face up for a kiss.

Buck obliged him. “Well, for what it’s worth,” he said softly, lips brushing against Tommy’s, “I love your name. I love how it sounds when I say it. Tommy,” he murmured, and Tommy swallowed hard. “It fits you. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s you. And I – I love you. So I love your name.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words, but it was still new enough that they tasted fresh and exciting.

“I love you, too,” Tommy said quietly. “Evan,” he said, and kissed him again.

this was supposed to be something fun and silly based on this post but then it developed emotions and that's why it's a day late.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Hyperlaser x Reader

was going to write this but i have a test so ill write it after, anyways happy one week to this blog this period last week i made this blog

my fucking wrist

- While Hyperlaser can appear very stoic, and maybe a bit crass, you know better, he’s very curious, and a tad concerned about those around him, he worries so often about others, especially you and your well being, but you think he should worry about his own more, after everything he’s been through and is still going through

- While not ashamed of his face he doesn’t usually take off his helmet around you, because he cannot see without it and he wants to be able to see you, he says your the most amazing demon he’s ever seen, in beauty and personality, though he does pull it up to give you a kiss every so often when your together, the kisses feel odd, with how scarred his skin is you can feel the burns on his lips but it’s him, it’s so distinctly him that the feeling feels like home

- Not the most touchy person, maybe a bit touch adverse, especially since his scars can be sensitive sometimes, you respect that and avoid touching him too often, and trying to remember to ask him before touching him, though he doesn’t mind kissing you, that’s the only touch he usually initiates, however sometimes when he has his helmet on you just kiss the visor, is smudges it but he thinks it’s endearing so he doesn’t ask you to stop

- Holy shit the way Hyperlaser spoils Princess, meeting her was awesome, she’s such a cute cat but seeing just how much he loves and cares for her was adorable, she warmed up to you very quickly, and he was glad for that

- That spoiling goes to you too, maybe not as obviously but he enjoys getting you very nice, costly, gifts, or having a nice dinner in one of those restaurants with someone playing piano and everything is lit only by candles, he has the money for it so he wants to spoil you, even when you insist you really don’t need him to, he wants to

- He almost exclusively calls you by your name, he’s not really a pet names person, he won’t object but he doesn’t care for you using them on him either, they just have never been something he finds romantic

- You try to convince him to leave, to retire form Blackrock, you know he wants to but he says he can’t, it’s not so simple, something is stopping him, you wish he could but you understand his reason for staying, even if you really wish he could leave, you’ve never disproved of his job but you do worry about him, he can’t even recall how many demons he has taken the lives of, how many targets he’s been assigned, even when he wishes he could stop he continues his job

- He probably invites you to go drinking with him and Katana, Katana likes you, you make Hyperlaser happy and he knows he could use some joy, even if Hyperlaser knows Katana has the exact same problem, neither mind if you drink alcohol or not they just enjoy having another person to chat with, and offer another opinion on different things

- Due to his PTSD and other problems he can have episodes, they are few and far between but every time he does you’re there for him holding his head as he shakes and sniffles into your lap telling him that you’re there and he’s going to be okay, though he never cries, he lost the ability to after the accident, you both wish he could so he could release all the thoughts and feelings trapped inside but if he physically can’t neither of you voice that wish

- When he’s gone for extended periods of time, a few days at the most, you take care of Princess, she’s able to be pretty independent but she does like having someone around so you being there to pet her and let her sleep on you she’s not complaining, besides for the fact that Hyperlaser isn’t the one she’s sleeping on and petting her, it’s only half hearted though she’s used to him leaving for a few days

- He’s not the most talkative person but he does enquire about you a lot, he’s always so curious asking different things about yourself, things you liked your past, whatever, he thinks all demons are so interesting and you especially, but sometimes you will share very late night conversations, they’re usually more deep tough topics but they bring the both of you together, and the moon is always so comforting

yippee, oh gods my back, i’m falling apart over here help everything hurts 😭

[hannahssimblr]

It’s a dreary, drizzly evening that calls for streetlights earlier than usual, their light straining weakly through the thick mist off the bay, and as I glance down at Ivy with droplets of rain beading on the halo of frizz around her plaits I consider the fact that she was right, a jacket wouldn’t have been the worst idea. 

The lights are on early at Michelle’s house too, the voile netting over the netting in the living room window not giving anything away inside, just the vague shapes of whatever is on the television.

As always, the door is off the latch, and inside Jen is leaning against the counter by the toaster spinning a butter knife in her fingers. She gives me a wary look when we see each other. “She’s in the living room,” and holds her hand out to Ivy, “Hey Ives, do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? C’mere, oh, who did your hair today? Was it your brother? Yikes, okay let me have a look at this…”

I gingerly push through to the living room, where Michelle is engaged in an intense discussion with both of her parents. She’s slumped on the couch with puffy eyes while they stand with their backs to the fire, glancing at me with alarm as I enter the room wielding a bar of chocolate, which, in hindsight is a bit of a pathetic celebratory or consolation prize. 

“Hi.”

“Oh good, Jude,” Rahim beckons me over to the couch to sit with Michelle, and I take her hand, “can you tell her that this is not the end of the world?” He’s saying, voice tinged with impatience, “There are plenty of other opportunities.”

“Zero, huh?” I say gently, and she shakes her head, arm trembling as she passes the letters to me. One, two, three rejections. I read one of them briefly, from Paris. 

“‘...unimaginative and containing cliches…’ wow, that feels a bit harsh, doesn’t it? I don’t think they needed to be all like that about it.”

She breaks down in tears, “I’m a terrible artist.”

“No, you aren’t,” I skim through the one from Berlin, “Look, they’ve said here that this year’s application was their strongest in history. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I just feel so stupid.”

“What? No, you’re the furthest thing from stupid.”

“Michelle, there are other options,” Rahim practically pleads, “Why don’t you go back to the application portal before it is too late and put down something more reasonable?”

Debra agrees, “This is what we’ve been saying, Michelle, maybe art is wrong for you. See? You shouldn’t have changed your mind in the first place. There’s a good reason you decided against it-”

“Yeah well I want to do it now, don’t I?” Michelle snarls, swatting tears away from her cheeks, “Jude and I are doing this together, it’s already decided.”

Her mother eyes me warily before deciding that I should probably hear this too, “Love, you know it’s not always a good idea to make big life decisions based on your boyfriend. Nothing lasts forever.”

“How could you say that?”

“What happened to veterinary science, hm? Wouldn’t that be a good career?”

“I wanted to be a vet when I was like, seven, what are you on about?” 

“Or she could be a doctor, like me!” Rahim attempts, but this is only met with a fresh barrage of sobs. I rub my girlfriend’s back uselessly while the chocolate softens inside its wrapper against the heat of my leg. 

Debra is looking at me empathetically as I comfort her daughter, as though she and I have some connection now, like a baton has passed through some small exclusive club for people who have held Michelle while she cries. “How did you get on with your applications?” 

“Oh, um, yeah, I got in,” I feel guilty even saying it but Michelle doesn’t really react to the news, as though she already made an assumption, but I jump in to finish quickly before she can make another. “I won’t be accepting any of them, though, I mean, obviously. I was only ever going to move away if Michelle was coming too, and, you know, unless London works out then that won’t happen.”

Michelle kneads her eye with the heel of her hand, “Did you not get the email?”

“What email?”

“From the London school.”

“Uh, no, I just saw the letters.”

Her eyes widen, “So you didn’t see the NCAD email either?”

“Since when were there emails?” 

“Oh my God,” she’s on her feet then, all of her misery forgotten in favour of urgency. “Go and look right now, what the hell?”

“Love,” Debra attempts soothingly, “it’s probably better if Jude checks his emails on his own, isn’t it? The last thing we want is for this to set you off-”

We’re already running for the stairs, her behind me prodding my back the whole way up in a way that feels like she’s forcing me to walk the plank to my untimely death in a tank of piranhas. We burst into her room and she runs to navigate to gmail while I sweat despite the temperature of her room, which is always kind of cold. 

I log in and the page loads up to two new emails sitting brazenly in my inbox.  

“There they are, click them!”

“Michelle I just want to say that-”

“Oh, come on,” she seizes the mouse and clicks for me, first the one from London, and her voice is flat, “They accepted you. No surprises.”

“It doesn’t matter though, does it? If they didn’t accept you too then I’m not going.”

“Mm.” She immediately clicks the next one, from NCAD, “It’s just points,” she mutters in explanation, “So it all depends on our leaving cert,” scrolling, she reaches the bottom of the email where my points sit, undeniable in a bold black font against stark white. 

I feel her stiffen. “One thousand?” 

“Uh, wow, is that good?”

There is a long pause. “Jude, that’s literally maximum points.”

I can’t bring myself to look at her right away, but I feel her eyes on the side of my face, searing holes through my skin. 

“I thought your interview went badly.”

“Yeah me too!”

“Well then-” she breaks off to make some noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a sob, “then how did you get such ludicrously high points?”

“Like what I said, I suppose. They were arseholes to everyone on purpose,” I spin around to her, “What did you get?”

“Four fifty.”

So I grab hold of her hands and hold her very tightly and very still, I want to seem sure, “No matter what happens, we’ll be okay,” I promise, “Even if none of this works out for you, I’ll still be right here, do you hear me?”

She nods. 

“I’m not going anywhere without you. God, I mean, why would I even do that? You’ll get NCAD off the back of your leaving cert points, I’m one hundred percent sure. And... even if you don't, I'll stay in Dublin.” As soon as I say it I start feeling nauseated, and dizzy, a bit heady like I’ve inhaled some miscellaneous gas from the science lab, but I fight through it, “fuck all of those stupid plans for going abroad, right? I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Okay, c’mere,” I pull her into me and hold her tightly, taking in the smell of her hair, the way her narrow shoulders, her birdlike frame softens in my arms and accept that this is the comfort I will rely on from now on. True, it’s not always easy with Michelle, but we really do love each other. Sometimes love is work, but love is rare and worth holding onto with both hands and your whole heart. All those plans I had, I think, they were misguided, a youthful mistake. Perhaps at some point in the future I can move to Amsterdam, or Paris, or Berlin, or London, and do something creative and exciting, but not now. That’s what I’ll do in ten years, when everything is different. I’ll make sure to tell Sam. 

Who did I think I was, really, trying to do all of that at eighteen? Now is for this, for Michelle. For doing something right.

“I love you,” she says, and I wonder, with her cheek resting against my chest, if she can somehow hear the way my heart tightens as though grasped by a fist, or how my breath catches in my throat when she says it. I’m surprised by the rising feeling that I might start crying, but I force it down.  

Crying over what, Jude? I sneer at myself. 

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Something stupid, as usual.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[astrum-aetherium]

Henry's been living rent free in my head since I read TSH like four months ago- I cannot stop thinking about him and your blog is single handedly fueling my obsession with him so thank you so much really.

Anyways- I know Henry is definitely not the soft type of guy, but I do believe he could get just a tiny little bit softer than he usually is (sparingly) were he to find a person he really liked?? This is probably just my guilty and mostly out of character pleasure, but imagining him being all cold and harsh as he is for the most part and then suddenly doing or saying that one unexpectedly tender thing out of nowhere (even in a nsfw context, that's even better) and then going back to his usual self in a heartbeat makes me go uughhh

i wholeheartedly agree with you. on so many levels. it's very easy to cross the utterly restrictive OOC boundaries when speaking/writing about him, since all we seem to know is how stoic and cool and constantly displeased he is (although i could impugn this very well — take the glass shard scene or his staying at the hospital with richard as an example).

us as readers, we cannot help but crave a little softness from him sometimes, and i understand that completely. i'm always willing to indulge us all in a scenario like that. in a better world, on slightly OOC premises, he would make an evidently detached, but caring partner. coincidentally, i have been thinking about just that for the past couple of days, despite formerly being convinced it would be entirely impossible to conduct a healthy relationship with that man (which, yeah, if we strictly stick to canon, it still would be, but that's the beauty about fiction — we get to brush past and alter some things to our enjoyment).

therefore, yes — with the opportunity to alter his character just a tiny bit, i believe he would let his soft side flash every now and again. i don't think it would be in any form of physical touch, however, as he certainly isn't one to put his feelings on display, especially in public (in private, however, that'd be a completely different story). it would mostly be symbolic with him. for instance, imagine it being your birthday. as your partner, he would know you inside and out — he is highly attentive and perceptive, especially when it comes to those closest to him, and he would absolutely be well-versed in anything that you might like, or mention liking. he would know. loving is knowing. therefore, for your birthday, he would not only think of and buy you the best and most thoughtful present imaginable, but he would also buy five more to give to the rest of the group under the pretense of "i know her/him/them better than all of you combined, which is why all of your gifts have already been taken care of".

that is how his affection would shine through — acts of service. being spoiled by him is another tremendous part of that. i have already approached this topic in two previous posts, but to summarize: he absolutely would be willing to spoil you in any way imaginable, as it would be the only plausible way for him to prove the depth of his feelings for you (along with kisses and other physical endeavors, which would exclusively be saved for private settings).

in addition, i feel like he would let himself be swayed more and more despite his dogmatic position, meaning he would be willing to comply or enter compromises, especially for you. orrr... to approach the aspect of him portraying the merest smidge of sweetness and immediately reverting to his stoic self — imagine a strand of hair having fallen loose from your hairstyle, or it simply veiling your hair too much, to the point where he would press the book he might be holding under his arm mid-conversation and brush it aside for you with a light smile, only to immediately proceed with whatever it is he had been occupied by previously.

from a nsfw standpoint, his care would mostly show in his being very forthcoming and reassuring to you (asking for consent, asking if you're in any discomfort during a position, checking up on you during rougher activity), and aftercare (bringing you towels/water/a cigarette (lol), proposing to go pee, holding you on occasion if matters had been overly rough and you might still be trembling).

he would also totally be the type to run his fingers through your hair and even play with it. i don't care how OOC some people believe this to be — i need it. sometimes a girl just needs something of the sort.

[alwerakoo]

Baby Blue (Chapter 4)

Rise of the TMNT Leonardo/Yuichi Usagi Chapter 4 of a longer fic THIS IS PART OF A SERIES - might be confusing to read without context

AO3

--- They sit in silence for a moment before Leo finally asks:

“Is that why you live with your aunt?” Out of his entire family, Usagi mentioned her the most. Which is an honor on a par with being the largest slice of pineapple on a Hawaiian pizza. Which was quite an achievement, seeing as in most cases they were only neutral statements or anecdotes. “Mhm.” Usagi shifts a little further, to the side, so that he can better watch the hazy horizon, which Leo accepts with only a slight disappointment.

Not that he lets it be known, because these kinds of thoughts did not fit their current conversation in any way, and really, it all made him feel rather embarrassed. “Me and my brother,” Usagi adds. He picks up the plushie, previously thrown aside, brushing the dust off the green material in an almost apologetic gesture. And then he reaches out his hands, promptly handing the toy over to Leo.

Obediently, Leo takes it in a slightly awkward hold. “Oh, right.” It's easy to forget that Usagi is not an only child. True, he didn't have the same little, annoying habits as April (who still hasn't gotten used to the concept of sharing), but Leo always had a hard time imagining siblings he doesn't treat as extensions of himself.

He's not sure which of them is more normal in this aspect – him or Usagi. Probably neither.

“Yeah, exactly.” “So, I guess you two also 'don't get along'?” Leo asks, purely rhetorically.

“We don't,” Usagi replies, not without a hint of bitterness.

He clearly wants to add something more, and Leo has no intention of rushing him.

His friend leans forward a bit, twisting a loose thread from his pants around his finger. Leo wonders if he's cold in just his undershirt. He probably is.

For a moment he considers offering him his hoodie, and then he realizes how stupid it sounds, even in his own head.

“I guess he never quite forgave me for killing our mom,” says Usagi. “Fucking hell,” says Leo. He suddenly feels very grateful for the stuffed animal on his lap, mostly because he has something to hold onto tightly. With some care, because his claws could use a little trimming. “Was that too weird to say?” Usagi asks. He's probably just embarrassed, because he raises his shoulders, hunching slightly, as if trying to curl into himself as much as possible. “That's...” Leo thinks for a moment. The thought that he doesn't have to worry too much about the usual rules of social interaction fills him with peace. The thought that Usagi might honestly believe what he's saying – something bitter.

The anger is sudden, but not unexpected; it's lighting a match he's been holding onto for a while now. It has a familiar shape; something like how he always feels when he sees Raph with Splinter. Fierce and protective. Even if this is different. There's a certain understanding in Usagi's voice, an acceptance of the painful truth. It's not soaked in denial, some sad version of love. Usagi knows his family doesn't like him. Leo knows his father can't stand him. But only one of them is able to admit it without a shadow of shame. “Did he tell you that?” Leo asks. Something in his tone must betray how hard his hearts are beating, because Usagi frowns, studying his face. Leo wonders if he can read the truth just from his eyes, like Raph does. Probably not. Maybe it's a part of Leo reserved exclusively for his oldest brother. “No,” Usagi admits, but there's something stubborn in his voice. “But I know he thinks that.” He was wrong. Usagi was bitten. He can see it now; all the short and long, and pink, and faded scars he's covered in. And yet he doesn't hesitate for a moment, as if to him, everything that Leo holds hidden deep inside himself, is as easy to say as objective truth. (Things like the thought that he might hate his father. Or that he doesn't hate him as much as he should.)

He speaks like he knows his place in all of this. Like there's some peace to be had after the initial realization that not all love can be unconditional.

Leo has been living in it for over ten years. He doesn't think there's anything waiting for him on the other side. “That's stupid,” Leo says. “You know it's stupid, right?”

Usagi doesn't answer for a moment, looking back at the horizon. “Even if I did, I was, like, one minute old,” he says. “I think I can be forgiven.” “It wasn't you.” “Then what?” Usagi looks at him again. “The doctor?” It sounds like a completely honest question, which isn't all that weird for Usagi, but it still throws Leo off his rhythm for a moment. Enough so that he finally stops tightening his fingers around the innocent plushie's neck. “Well...” He thinks for a moment. Thinking slows his beating heart a bit, at least one of them. “Most likely, probably an infection. Or a hemorrhage.”

Usagi nods, like they were having a perfectly normal conversation and coming to perfectly normal conclusions.

“Sounds about right,” he says.

Leo presses his lips together, considering his words for a moment. “Parents are overrated,” he finally says, because he thinks it might make Usagi laugh. It does. “Trust me, I know something about that.” “Hmm. Lou Jitsu is overrated?”

Leo grimaces, wrinkling his nose. Then he quickly realizes it probably makes him look like Donnie, so he stops. “Never meet your heroes,” he says. “Don and Mikey can attest to that.”

He knows that Usagi is only joking, but the thought that he might actually meet Splinter one day fills him with a new kind of fear. And anger. Usagi nods. “Donnie really hates your dad,” he says. Leo knows that, but the revelation that his brother's feelings are so sincere that even Usagi knows about them fills him with a wave of rather complicated feelings. Mostly good ones. He raises his hand reflexively, smoothing over his chest where he can feel Donnie's heartbeat. “He has his reasons.” He doesn't want the conversation to turn to his family (or rather, to one of its members). Firstly, because he's trying to be a good friend, and secondly – because he's a coward. “Listen,” he says, leaning down to look him in the eye. “If you ever need to... Take a break from your family, you can always call me.”

Perhaps 'you can always come over' would be a slightly nicer offer, but also an impossible one for many reasons, only some of which involved his father. “Thanks.” Usagi tilts his head, resting his cheek on his shoulder. “I usually just go over to your brothers'. Mr. Barry said I'm always welcome.” Leo's eyes widen a little in surprise. “He did?”

Usagi smiles a little “No.” Before Leo can respond in any way, the pocket of his hoodie buzzes to life. He reaches into it, pulling out his phone, and gives his friend an apologetic smile when he reads the name in the middle of the screen. A name and a pizza emoji, because ever since it became his exclusive property, Raph had saved all the contacts on their old phone in a pictogram form. Leo isn't entirely sure why, but there's something funny about it, and definitely worth mocking.

He swipes on the screen, lifting the phone to his ear. “What's up?” And then the smile on his face falls completely. Leo jumps to his feet, so abruptly that he almost trips over his own legs. He reaches behind his back, grabbing his sword. “What do you mean prison?”

***

When Leo sees his brother again, he seems to be in a much better mood than when he left him. He sensed it even during the phone conversation. Raph has one of those smiles you can hear even in his voice – one of the few traits he shares with Mikey. (Sometimes, Leo wondered whether it might be a trait they both inherited from Splinter. But he's never seen him smile enough to notice.) “Hey!” Raph raises a hand, waving as he meets them halfway. Leo catches up to his brother before the portal even starts to close, gripping his forearms and pulling him closer. Up close, Raph seems mostly unharmed. Leo shakes him lightly, just to be sure. “What do you mean prison?” He's not angry. More impressed, because although the game of 'Who would end up in jail the fastest?' stopped having any significance in their family since Mikey came into the picture, Raph has never been high on Leo's personal list. He hadn't been on it at all, actually. But his brother seems rather unfazed by the whole experience, if not quite the opposite, which definitely calms Leo's already frayed nerves. “You went to prison without me?” He adds with theatrical drama, shaking his brother once more. Raph lets him.

“Hi, Usagi.” Raph nods in greeting, clearly just for the sake of ignoring Leo. “Look at the shirt I got.”

His plastron is now adorned with a white T-shirt, spelling out: 'I WENT TO THE BATTLE NEXUS AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY SHIRT'. The font and color scheme are one of the worst Leo has ever seen, and he's pretty sure Raph wasn't wearing it earlier that day. Mainly because he wouldn't let him leave the house in it. Some of the spikes on his shell have already torn through the material, but Raph seems unbothered by it. “I have one like this, too.” Usagi nods in appreciation, like it's something to be proud of. “Are you going to tell us what happened or not?” Leo reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Did you text the others?” “I called.”

Just in case, Leo sends Donnie another text. He gets a somewhat vague reply, that mostly conveys that it will take them a few more minutes to get to the Hotel. Leo asks if a portal wouldn't be a more convenient method of transportation, to which Donnie responds with a very firm ''no''.

Leo chooses not to think too hard about it. Raph's story turns out to be as simple, as it is absurd and hard to believe. Leo, sitting across from his brother with his legs pulled up on the couch, taps his finger against his cheek, slowly digesting all of his words. Usagi mostly just seems amused, munching on another biscuit and squeezing his dinosaur in the crook of his elbow. “But you don't even look the same,” Leo snorts, looking at the poster on the table. “That's what I told them.” Raph shrugs. Leo hears the faint sound of thread tearing. “That's racist,” he says. “What happened to those guys?” “The ones you helped rob the police.” Usagi lets out a short laugh. “Don't laugh,” Leo scolds, but only gently, and only because Raph has a bit of special treatment today. “Raph doesn't do well under pressure.” Raph raises his shoulders a little, clearly embarrassed. “I don't know. Big Mama said she'd take care of them.” He straightens up a little, almost beaming at the memory. “She's really nice, you know?” Big Mama and Raph had met only once before, and under less than favorable circumstances. Personally, Leo still kept her on a long leash. It wasn't often that he met someone like her. Someone full of energy and charisma, and wit, and fake in almost every way. In a way, she reminded him of himself. It made something in his chest tighten painfully and irrevocably. Sometimes, he felt the same way about Mikey. But Mikey was his brother, and that made all the difference. But if Big Mama was as charming and pampering with Raph as she was with Leo, he couldn't really blame him. “I know,” he says, short and clipped. Leo isn't entirely sure where Big Mama might be right now, but she left Raph in a room with a thickly draped curtains, soft couches, water, and a plate of biscuits (now almost completely empty), so he doesn't hold it against her that much. “She was really nice,” Raph repeats, wringing his fingers a little. “And she said I could visit her anytime I wanted.” At that, Leo frowns a little. There's a strange feeling rising in his chest; one he tucks away deep in the back of his mind to reconsider at another time. “You should.” Usagi nods eagerly. He's still holding onto Leo's yo-yo, which fills him with a unique sense of pride. “They serve awesome salmon on Thursdays.” That seems to catch Raph's attention, but before he has a chance to add anything else, the door to the side of the room bursts open with a sudden bang, slamming against the wall. Leo quickly realizes why the paint in that particular corner has so many white gaps. Mikey reaches the couch in just a few steps. “Raph!” He reaches out, wrapping his arms around his brother's neck from behind and leaning forward, probably so he can shout into his ear more easily.

“Hey, Mikey.” Mikey squeezes his arms tighter (which might've hurt if it was anyone other than Raph), pressing a loud kiss to his cheek. “I’m very proud,” he says, and he does sound it. “For going to prison?” April asks, emerging from the hallway, just behind Donnie. Her hair and cape are slightly stained with soot. Leo wonders if it has anything to do with the blossoming bruise on Donnie’s arm. “Of course,” Mikey confirms. “Prison is a very important stage of development.” “Oh,” Donnie huffs, running his hands over his staff. “But when I-”

“Because you wouldn’t survive in there,” Mikey cuts him off, firmly. Leo bites his cheek, like he’s actually thinking deeply about something. “You’d kill everyone there and then yourself,” he states finally. Donnie looks at him for a moment, tilts his head, then shrugs, as if that’s not the worst scenario.

“And what happened to you?” Usagi finally asks, staring intently at April's shoes.

Or her foot, because she somehow managed to lose one of them.

Leo only listens to their story with one ear.

Maybe that's unkind of him, but the whole day has left a mark so intense that he feels it in his bones. He's tired, in all the possible ways, pressing his shell into the back of the couch so hard that he almost sinks into it. But somewhere between the lines, Raph shifted to sit beside Leo, letting him rest his cheek on his shoulder, which was nice.

He quickly straightened up again, as soon as he realized that Usagi was still in the room with them, but it was the gesture itself that mattered.

Now, Raph nudges him gently, leaning in and lowering his voice, as if he could actually shout over April and Donnie's heated argument. “How was your date?”

Leo blinks.

Suddenly, he feels a lot more awake. He straightens up, running his hands over his shoulders and nervously glancing at Usagi. “It wasn't a date,” he lies. “Oh. Sorry, I assumed,” Raph says. But then he frowns, looking at him with something almost worried on his face. “Was that homophobic?” For a moment, Leo only looks at him in silent disbelief. “What?” Leo feels his lips stretch into a smile. “Whatever,” Raph huffs, slightly offended. Leo laughs quietly, resting his forehead against his shoulder for a moment.

***

On their way to The Lair, Usagi sends him a text. >And when do you talk about your home life? Leo replies: <Wait and see.

[vkylociferart]

“Wives”

Both this fan art and fan fic were made for @tdvzine

This tale is set in a universe where Mel (my oc) is already a vampire and lives in the chateau with Marius, Pandora, and Bianca. Though a vampire, Mel is still her old, curious, messy self. But her curiosity might get her in trouble sometimes.

Loosely based on the "Blue Beard" folk-tale.

By VKyloCifer

"It was meant to be a joke," Mel kept repeating in frustration. She tried to see the irony and humour in the whole thing, but it wasn't working. In any other situation, she would be laughing with everyone else.

It all started one night some weeks ago. She was working on one of the chateau's murals. Bianca was reading on a nearby couch, and Pandora played the piano. It seemed like a coincidence, but the real reason they were all there was for him. They wanted to be near him, near the one they all love, their beloved master, Marius, who was painting by Mel's side.

His concentration was unbreakable; he stepped into another world when he painted. Though she knew this was only in appearance, like any good teacher, he was always quite aware of everything that was going on around him. He showed it by coming out of his trance now and then to correct her work. It didn't bother her. On the contrary, she welcomed him whenever he wished to share his expertise.

She cherished these moments, the peace and safety she felt, and revelled in the loving company of her new family. She hadn't known Pandora and Bianca for long, since long since Marius had only recently brought her to the chateau. Not that he hadn't wanted to get her earlier, but she had delayed it. She was far too shy, and meeting new people made her nervous. Yet she took a liking to them almost instantly. Both had been extremely kind and welcoming to her, and she quickly responded to the outpouring of love. Also, it was always easier for her to relate with people with whom she shared common interests; in their case, they all have Marius in common.

In the chateau, everyone referred to them as Marius's two "wives", even though there had not been any official ceremony. And lately, there had been rumors that the court's Prime minister had brought with him a new wife. That would be her, Mel, Marius's third wife. Suddenly, something occurred to her, and she started giggling. Though it hadn't been her intention, her amusement pulled him out of his concentration.

“Gold for your thoughts," he asked.

"It's nothing," she bit her lips, trying to suppress her humour despite her large grin.

"Come now, little nymph, tell me what's going on inside that imaginative little head of yours". It still struck her as strange that he called her pet names like "little nymph" since, in terms of mortal years, she had been older than him when they met. It does not precisely fit the term "little" or nymph (usually characterized as younger women). But then again, she guessed mortal age meant nothing to beings like them. After all, she was considered a fledging, a baby bird, a mere child in their world. And her short height made the pet name stick more.

“Ah ah! I won't go into a stream of consciousness until you tell me what you were giggling about," Marius lightly scolded.

"It's just, I was thinking. You're like Dracula now."

Pandora stopped playing, and Bianca peeked up from her book. Now, she had everyone's attention, which she exclusively disliked.

"And how am I like Dracula, little Minx?" Marius asked with a touch of sarcasm.

If the same scenario had happened with any other group of people, she would've retreated into herself, unable to handle the pressure. But these were her new family, the ones she was supposed to trust and feel safe with. So she swallowed hard, somehow finding the courage, and continued to explain: "Because Dracula was famous for having three brides, and everyone around here says you have three wives now."

There was an uncomfortable silence; maybe she had rushed too quickly to be her whole, weird self. But suddenly, Pandora and Bianca burst into soft, lovely laughter. She smiled brightly at both. Then she turned to face Marius, who was looking intensely at her, face flushed.

She feared she had angered him.

But then his demeanour melted to a gentle, warm expression. He chuckled and placed his hand on her head... "That mind of yours is a bottomless source of the most amusing thoughts; you're. You're going to make eternity so much more interesting for me." He joined the rest in laughing—a contagious, harmless laugh from an irrelevant and harmless joke. Or so she thought.

A couple of days later, an unknown vampire arrived at court. He delivered a letter from his master, an ancient vampire named Lord Conomor. In the letter, he expressed his interest in coming into the court with his three wives, and as a showing of his goodwill, he invited any court member to meet him in his castle.

This was unusual; everyone knew that all immortals were welcome to the court; they were free to just walk in. However, there had been some rare occasions when potential new members had been reluctant to come. After all, the entire place was filled with powerful immortals. So perhaps this Lord Conomor was just exercising cautious caution.

Everyone present decided that a small commission welcome committee should welcome him to the court.

That’s when Bianca reminded Marius about little Mel’s joke. Didn’t Lord Conomor mention that he had three wives in his letter? It may be a good idea for him to go along with Pandora, Mel, and herself. To make the party even in numbers and to build relations between them.

Everyone thought it was a good idea. However, when brought up to Mel, the reaction was the opposite.

“Absolutely not!” she protested. Marius folded his arms and raised a brow in that gentle yet disproving gesture of his "And why not my nymph?".

"You know why! How am I supposed to pass as a court representative? I know nothing of how to behave as royalty or an ancient vampire. I would only be a burden and make you all look bad".

“Tsk, always with the self-doubting!" said Marius disapprovingly. "It's beneath you. No one is expecting you to be anything but who you are: a kind, well-mannered, and very unique young woman—the one I feel fell in love with."

Such a smart choice of words, so typical of him, scolding her while praising her at the same time before finally disarming her with a declaration of love, smooth bastard. She wanted to protest further, but what was the point? Whatever objection she comes up with, he'll find a way to refute it, and what's worse, he knew very well many ways to persuade and convince her to do it.

A week later, she found herself at the doors of a medieval castle in the middle of a wild forest, making her feel like she had been transported into a gothic novel. Though, unlike when Marius had brought her to the chateau, she didn't feel dazzled this time; she felt hazed. The previous flight didn't help either, as she was the only one in the group without the Cloud Gift. So she had to fly in Marius's arms. Even though he was always careful and protective of her during the flights, she still couldn't get used to them. A soft hand pressed gently into her shoulder, and she turned to meet Pandora's beautiful face, smiling sweetly. "Don't worry, I've never got used to either", she spoke inside her head, probably so Marius could not hear her. She nodded and smiled back at Pandora, feeling some anxiousness slightly ebb.

As the castle doors opened, they revealed an inner corridor that heavily contrasted the gloomy outside view with its bright red carpet, polished marble columns, and glossy wooden walls. This place wasn't that bad after all.

Lord Conomor and his three wives were waiting for them in the reception room. He was a tall man, not quite as tall as Marius (few were as tall as Marius), though sturdier built, with hair as black as her own. A broad, generous smile that shined through his bushy beard, but there was no friendliness in those deep crystalline eyes that seemed somehow… cruel? His skin was like marble, lustrous and hard-looking, like Marius and Pandora and all the ancient ones she had met, thought it was of a darker hue. Her own skin was slightly caramel. She wondered if her skin would, one day, look like this-

"Stay focused!" commanded an authoritatively familiar voice inside her head. She looked at Marius, who was speaking amiably with their host, but it still stunned her how he could retain his perfect pose while scolding her mentally.

"I'm not scolding you, little nymph; I'm just helping you stay on the path." Sweet Heavens! Even inside her mind, he managed to gently dominate her. If only she had been made by him, at least she would have had her mind for herself.

"And if you pay more attention to my thought-blocking lessons, you would, little minx.”

"As always, you're the master" " she answered him mentally, forcing back a chuckle. "Thank you"

"For scolding you? As you put it."

"For helping brightened my mood."

This time, he forced back a chuckle; she knew him well enough to notice it.

"You're welcome, my love", he replied, flooding her mind with warmth.

Later, while chatting around the fireplace, she looked deeper at their host's wives; they must've been ancient since they all shared the same ivory skin. Their hairs were all long and wavy, in brownish tones that barely differed from each other. For mortal eyes, they would all look identically brunette. It's been months after her transformation, and still, she was finding new colours she didn't even know existed; it was beautiful, especially when looking at paintings. There were many hanging on the walls, ancient ones, primarily portraits, some of which depicted the Lord of the castle and his wives dressed in beautiful medieval garments. The level of detail in the fabrics and jewellery fascinated her, and she wondered if the painter had been human.

“Beautiful, right?” She awoke from daydreaming to find one of their host's wives by her side, smiling brightly at her. With teeth lustrous as pearls, her sharp fangs stoop grimly out.

“Yes, so detailed," Sheshe said, sounding as relaxed as possible.

“I see one of your wives is interested in paintings," said Lord Conomor to Marius.

"As do I" he replied.

"Ah! Then you must come to see our entire collection!"

Minutes later, they were all walking through a succession of long paintings-covered galleries, Lord Conomor and his wives chatting amicably with Marius, Bianca, and Pandora. The place was filled with intercrossing twists and turns. It was eerily beautiful, though Mel wondered how they never managed to get it.

Every painting she passed by was unique and gorgeous. There were so many that it would take a lifetime to appreciate them all. At this fast pace, it was a shame that she couldn't enjoy them properly as they deserved.

A miniature portrait at the end of a corridor caught her attention; it depicted a pale lady wearing a brocade and velvet dress. The details were stunning, and she wanted to look at it closer, if only for a moment. And that's how she ended up like this: lost. Marius was right; she should've stayed on the path, just a slight deviation, and the next thing she knew, she'd lost track of her group and found herself wandering around in this labyrinthic place.

She went up and down countless stairs that seemed to go nowhere, sinking deeper into the gasping darkness of this place, which now didn't seem friendly or welcoming at all. The places she had been in earlier had looked clean and well cared for, filled with immaculate fabrics, lustrous marble, lavished wood, and shiny metals. Now, everywhere she turned, she saw mould, dampness and rags. There were almost no lights except for some old gas lamps scattered around. If she had still been mortal, she would've been unable to see anything and would've been forced to stumble blindly around in the darkness. She tried to count her blessings. B, but it needed to be helping. This place was ghastly; it didn't matter to her the irony of a vampire scared of a gothic castle; she just wanted out of there!

She could call them, she thought, either mentally or just scream. No matter how big this hell hole was, they could hear her. Marius could listen to her even if she were on the other side of the world. But that would cause a terrible impression, and she spent the dead dream here instead of ruining this for them. "OhOh, hell no," she said to herself, "I don't want to spend the dead dream in here". She kept going, making use of all her preternatural speed; there had to be a way out of here.

Eventually, she saw a light coming from the bottom of a long stair. It was very dimmed, but it was different from the light of the gas lamps from the previous rooms. She felt some warmth coming from there, but the sensation was so faint that she would've missed it if she were still human.

Maybe this was her way back to the better part of the castle, back to her family, and out of this nightmare.

She hastily descended the long stairs until she came face to face with a closed door. The dimmed light she had seen was coming from a small opening bar-covered window in the door. She peeked inside and saw a single torch placed in a dark rock wall opposite the door. She tried to see further inside the room, but she couldn’t as the window was too small.

A strange smell came from that room, something she couldn’t discern. What this could be? The door was tightly shut, but another thing that had been enhanced, besides her senses, by the Dark Blood was her physical strength. So she pushed harder against the door. But it barely moved.

She was about to turn around and give up when she noticed something else—a sound coming from that room besides the odour. It was a familiar sound, yet she could not put her finger on what it was.

What was in there?!

She decided to try again. This time, she didn't just push but leaned her whole body against the door, using all the strength she could muster.

The door gave in just enough for her to go through.

Once inside, she found the room was bare except for the lamp she had seen through the window. Four boxes were divided into two and two, each pair placed in each lateral wall. Whatever the strange smell and sound she had noticed before was coming from those boxes because now they surrounded her, entrapping her as invisible tendrils tangling themselves all around her body. Suddenly, she didn't want to be in there anymore.

This place felt wrong, worse than any other part of this accursed castle. She was about to turn and leave when something in her mind clicked, and she recognized the sounds.

Heartbeats!.

Not one, but many. They were so faint that it was strange they could keep beating. No wonder she had trouble placing it before. Now, she couldn't leave without knowing first what was in those boxes.

She went to the nearest one and tried to open it, but it was tightly shut. She used all her strength, but, unlike the door, it wouldn't give in. Mel thought hard. She could go, find the others, and tell them.

Tell them what, though?.

She didn't know what was in these damned boxes; at least, she wasn't sure. The confusion from her scattering thoughts made her realize she wasn't thinking clearly. That smell and those beatings suddenly didn't seem faint now.

When had they gotten so loud?.

They were piercing through her ears, and their rhythm was hypnotic. Was this drowsiness—the dead dream?

Impossible; it was too early for that.

“Shhh it is not too early; sleep now", a voice spoke inside her head.

“Who are you?”.

"It doesn't matter. Sleep now, little invader".

But it did matter, didn't it? Maybe not… maybe it was better to sleep.

“What are you doing to her?!”

A familiar voice woke her from her stupor. She looked around, still confused and unsure where she was, until she saw the torch, the dreary boxes, and Bianca fighting with one of the vampires' wives they'd met earlier. She hurried to Bianca's help; between them both, they managed to push her outside and locked themselves within the room.

Bianca turned to face her. "Sweetie, sweetie, are you okay? When I entered, she was dragging you across the room!”

"I think so, I lost consciousness. But there's something here, inside those boxes”.

They turned, and one of the boxes was half open now. Mel approached it, drawn by the morbid curiosity of finally knowing what was there.

But she was interrupted by Bianca’s scream. Mel turned. It was Lord Conomor. He was grabbing her by the wrists. Mel stormed against him, but he was too strong. With only one hand (the other kept Bianca in place), he forced her on the ground. His boot stepped on her rib cage and started pressing down. The pain was unbearable. She cried out like a wounded animal.

"You're quite strong for a fledging. Too bad you turned out to be such a nosy woman," Hehe said as he kept pressing against her chest.

Bianca yelled threats at him, swearing if he kept hurting her, he'd know the wrath of Pandora and Marius and her own.

Lord Conomor laughed. "My other wives must've taken care of them already. Pity, I was looking forward to seeing your court, but I can't tolerate meddling women. Now you'll stay here with the rest".

She felt her bones grinding and breaking. The pain became so terrible that she started losing her conscience.

As she fell into oblivion, she noticed there was no pain anymore.

Only darkness, it was peaceful, maybe she should stay there…

"No, you shouldn't."

A voice reached her through the darkness. It was loving and embracing.

"Wake up, my dear".

Something warmed filled her.

It felt wonderful. Like light. Like life.

… Like love.

"Maybe it's because I love you".

She opened her eyes to meet the gentle gaze of her beloved master, Marius. Her head was pillowed against his knees. His hand softly caressed her temple and hair. It felt so comforting. The other was pressed over her face, the torn wrist against her lips as he fed her his Blood. His powerful Blood quickly worked its magic on her, healing her broken body and making her whole again.

The memories of what happened came rushing back into her mind.

She sat and looked around. They were in the same fireplace where they'd been gathered earlier that night. Pandora and Bianca were sitting next to them, both smiling at her, mentally telling her that everything was alright now.

She remembered how Bianca had been attacked earlier.

"I'm alright, dear; you don't have to worry about me", Bianca reassured her before she could ask.

Mel then turned to find Lord Conomor and his three wives, all of them on their knees and tied up with heavy iron chains. Gregory and Thor were standing before them. She needed clarification. They hadn't come with them, had they?

Having read her thoughts, Marius smiled and said, "You didn't think we would be coming here without taking some security measures, right, little nymph?"

"Oh! But why didn’t you tell me?” She asked.

"Because you're still too young in the Blood, and they were old, they might've been able to read your thoughts", He answered.

She felt a pang in her chest. "So little is your trust in me? I don't blame you. You told me to stay focused, to stay on the path, and I deviated and almost got myself and Bianca killed," she said, turning her face aside, not wanting to meet his eyes, fearful of what she might see in them.

"Yes, you did all that, and it was reckless," Hehe said sternly. But then he captured her chin between his thumb and index finger and forced her to meet his gaze. To her surprise, she saw only kindness and love.

"And by doing that," he continued, "you helped us uncover the truth about Lord Conomor and his wives, all seven of them."

Her brows frowned in confusion, and then the image of the four boxes returned to her mind.

Marius smiled. "Oh yes, his other wives were hidden in those boxes. Trapped and starved until they lost consciousness and become nothing more like sleeping corpses."

"He must've done something else to them," Pandora said, "since they are not waking up, not even with our Blood. Whatever it is, I'm sure our resident vampire scientist will find it very interesting."

Marius cradled her face lovingly between his two big hands. "So you see, by disobeying me, you did the right thing for us".

She mustered a sad smile. "But it was only by chance, and you know it".

"Yes, but you're missing the point." He said, not letting her break eye contact with him. "I know you; I know you can't help that beautiful mind of yours from wandering around, and that often makes you wonder." Then, bending down, Marius placed a loving kiss on her lips. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"So, you're not mad at me?" she asked timidly.

"As much as I should," he said sternly "I'm not".

"Thank you," she said. "Still, I'm sorry for wandering around. I'll be better next time. I'll be the wife you deserve."

"Don't!" he said. "I don't want you to change despite the headaches your ways bring me. Continue to be my little wanderer, my love. Even if it wrecks my nerves for all eternity. I love you as you already areare.”

With these words, he placed another kiss on her lips, vanishing any doubts she had left in her heart. She felt safe, warm, and loved. She let herself be cradled back to his knees as he opened his wrist again and pressed it, once more, against her mouth. His rich warmed Blood flooded her mouth, filling her, nursing her, and making her stronger than before. She closed her eyes and revelled in the beautiful feeling of knowing she was loved by her master.

[bethanythebogwitch]

I've been going over my thoughts on all the aquatic Digimon. Previous posts here: all fish, all mermaids, and aquatics part 1. Since I've gone over the aquatics with a default evolution line, today I'll just go over all rookie/child, champion/adult, and armor level mons that I haven't already discussed.

I will say that my previous post's analogy on how Digimon evolution works was not at all helpful, so I'll try again. Digimon evolution is branched, where each stage has multiple possible next stages that do not necessarily need to have a thematic connection to prior stages. Stages are not mutually exclusive and separate Digimon can evolve into the same thing. Digimon can also evolve backwards and not to the same thing they started as. For example, an Agumon (little dinosaur) can evolve into Centaurumon (centaur), then evolved back down to a Patamon (winged hamster). The animes usually simplify things from the games and virtual pets by giving their Digimon characters much more linear and thematically consistent evolution lines. I may do an intro to Digimon post some day.

Starting with rookie/child levels we have an old mon that hasn't been used much: Gizamon. It's been around for a long time, but rarely gets any attention and as far as I can tell, has never gotten a spotlight, even as a monster of the week. That's too bad, it's a neat little critter. It's a marine mammal, but has the body shape and jumping ability of a frog.

Next up is Crabmon (Ganimon in Japanese). People compare Pokemon and Digimon a lot, but one comparison I haven't seen is that they both made a monster that's literally just a crab. Crabmon and Kingler are both fiddler crabs too, with one much bigger claw. I like it and there are a few crustaceans of higher level that I think could be a good pre-evo for. Crabmon also has a x-antibody variant.

Crabmon

Crabmon X

The last of this level is Sangomon, a very new Digimon. I love it so much, it's a little staghorn coral monster with polyps for arms. It's so cute and such a creative way of making coral as a monster. I wish it has a full through-like of coral reef evolutions. If I had to pick any of the rookie/child Digimon form this series as a partner, it honestly might be this one.

Moving onto the champion/adult level is Ebidramon. Ebi means shrimp and dramon indicates that the Digimon is draconic, so it's a shrimp dragon. It clearly isn't fond of shrimp being used as a synonym for tiny as it will attack those who make fun of it.

Next is Gesomon, which clearly takes ofter humboldt squids as its very violent and scary. It attacks those who enter its territory, but won't bother those outside of it. It's also very intelligent and cunning, which is very appropriate for a squid. I really like Gesomon, I think it's a great choice for an evil aquatic line. Gesomon has an x-antibody variant which is incredibly ugly and not in a good way. Its ugly in an "I don't want to look at this any more" way.

Gesomon

Gesomon X

The last aquation at this level is the excellent Octomon. I don't like any of the octopus Pkemon very much and Digimon deliverd for me. It's a kleptomanian who wears a pot for a head much like how a coconut octopus lives inside coconuts and other hard objects. The crown came from a sunked treasure chest and that gun squirts ink. Weirdly enough, the little gold barnacles on it are identified as another Digimon called Fujitsumon and Octomon's reference book entry is the only place Fujitsumon has ever been mentioned.

Next up is the armor level, which lies outside the normal evolution levels. It was introduces fro the anime Digimon Adventure 02 and outside of media related to that show, armor Digimon are often treated as being synonymous to the champion/adult level.

First is Archelomon, a sea turtle with knives for flippers. Digimon has had much more ridiculous designs, but for some reason this one seems over the top for me.

Next is Depthmon, who absolutely should have been in the mermaid post but I forgot about it. I really like this guy, a merman wearing a diving suit. The suit lets it dive way deeper into the ocean than most Digimon because it can endure incredibly high pressure. Armor Digimon are the result of a Digimon evolving with an object called a Digimental that represents some virtue like courage. The anime only used a few combinations and a lot of the official armor Digimon are the result of filling out the other matches. For example, in the show, Veemon/V-Mon used the Digimentals of courage and friendship to become Flamedramon and Raidramon respectively. Depthmon is one of the unseen combinations, Veemon plus the Digimental of sincerity (reliability in the dub). The unseen combinations don't get nearly as much attention as the ones that did appear in the anime, which is a shame because some of them, like Depthmon, are pretty cool.

Next is Orcamon and I absolutely love this goofy beast. An Orca life guard is such an exceptionally silly concept executed quite well. It actively rescues other Digimon that are lost at sea. Orcamon seems like a good friend. What's even better is that it was designed by a fan as part of a contest. That fan has some great ideas.

Next is Submarimon, which I probably could have justified in the fish post. Its a fish-shaped submarine of course, but that harpoon nose also makes me think of sawfish. This is one of the armor Digimon that appeared in the anime where it was a bit underutilized due to being strictly aquatic. Fortunately the writers seem to have agreed because it got to appear in some of the other anime seasons as an ally.

Finally we have Tylomon, which is a tyloaurus, a type of prehistoric marine reptile. I like marine reptiles like mosasaurs, so Tylomon is pretty cool to me. It also has an x-antibody variant which is a classic overdesigned form. It's kind of weird that some of the more obscure armor Digimon got x-antibody forms befrore the ones that showed up in the anime, but I'm all for more obscure mons getting more attention.

Tylomon

Tylomon X

That's it for today. Next post will finish up the aquatic Digimon with the ultimate/perfect and mega/ultimate levels

[korgbelmont]

Choices Insiders February 2024

I actually forgot about this coming in tonight haha!

Here we go again.

For me it's Gabriela, absolutely loved how she was written in BK1. I do like Cas as well, but I prefer Gabriela. That being said, I may do a replay with a poly route before BK2 begins it's Wide Release.

I haven't seen much about this since it came out. I'll give it a go when it begins it's Wide Release though, just to see what it's like.

I'm not too keen on the idea of a VIP exclusive prequel to a book in case they reference it beforehand, but that's just me. I am looking forward to The Deadliest Game as I do enjoy a mystery story.

I'm not surprised Storyloom didn't last, but the biggest thing that sucks about it is that people are losing their jobs from it.

Said it before, I am useless with emojis, so I won't try and decipher these.

Whilst it's a given with MCs getting new outfits in sequel books, I do wonder if Cas and Gabe are getting new outfits for BK2

Having had a look at the image by zooming, I kind of wonder if the thing that will be collected is the stories of how certain characters became Vampires...

I still get the Black Veil Brides song Heart of Fire come into my head when I see the title of this one haha.

Wahoo! Nice to see at least one new new book with more than one Love Interest is coming.

I wonder if this is going to be their mature version of It Lives in the Woods in a way...

I'm going to talk about Along Came Treble a bit lower where the information is.

Only one new title announced, and it sounds like it could be the spinoff of Roommates With Benefits. But we probably won't know until later in the year.

I admit I haven't been making my way through Ship of Dreams, it's the next one to catch up on.

As for the others, I am enjoying them all. Not looking forward to the end of Dirty Little Secrets as I have enjoyed it, despite it being one of the more mature books. I think part of it's appeal is that it knows what it is while also having the mystery element to it.

The Cursed Heart 2 has been an interesting expansion and deeper dive into the lore of the world. Looking forward to learning more.

Alpha has been interesting with a different approach to Werewolf lore. Curious to see how things play out.

After not getting a Wide Release in January, we are now getting two this month! Although they didn't show it on their weekly chapter posts, Unbridled begins it's Wide Release tomorrow! I imagine Guarded will begin either the day Dirty Little Secrets ends or the week after.

So given the colour scheme used for the title with Along Came Treble and going by this description, it's safe to say that this will be a 17+ Single Love Interest book.

So for The Deadliest Game, MC is a crime writer, and I won't lie, I instantly thought of Castle seeing this. Interested to see what this will be like when it begins it's Wide Release.

That's it for this month's Insiders, as usual, I will try to grab screenshots of ads for anything and post them here.

Keep safe everyone!

[laurasauras]

Careful on that last post there's tons of proshippers in the notes blindly praising him

oh hon, are you lost? i really don't hide what i write!

i'm going to take you in best faith and assume you meant this as a kind heads up. i also want to assure you that this very long post is not meant to make you feel bad and please don't take it as me starting an argument with you personally. it's just something that's been on my mind lately and you've given me an excuse to articulate it!

seriously. it's not you, it's me.

i think the labels of pro/anti-shipper are very stupid and they're a very fandom-centric thing. not because people don't get up in arms about what professional authors write, because of course they do, but because when they do, they don't identify themselves as doing so exclusively on the basis of the romantic pairings in the work.

you wouldn't get someone saying "jamie x cersei writer george r r martin is bad because he wrote incest", you'd get someone saying "game of thrones is bad because it contains incest, graphic sex, rape, gratuitous violence, fantasy themes" or whatever it is they have problems with. or they might say something along the lines of "game of thrones is immoral". and that judgement is based on the work, not on martin as a person.

pro/anti is not based on a person's creative work, because people identify with these labels when they've never created fanfic/fanart. it's a personal identity. "i believe it is bad for someone to create/consume works with romantic pairings based on x" or "i believe people should be allowed to create/consume whatever they like". the "x" in that is usually incest/age gap/power inbalance of some kind, but people can come up with all sorts of things to fill in the blank.

"antishipper" is a convenient label because it isn't defined. it's like saying "moralshipper", where you never say what the morals are. those on the outside of the label are automatically bad, and those on the inside get to be anxious about whether any of their actions or thoughts are going to be called out.

it's the equivalent (and there's a large overlap here) of having a pinned post saying "freaks dni" or "dni if you're a, b, c, or any of the other bad things". it's the safe thing to do, because you can't get called out for forgetting to publicly declare that you don't want racists to interact with you, but it's also an exercise in anxiety.

not for the people who label themselves as proshippers or gladly fly the freak flag! those people either block (sensible) or argue (pointless) or hatefollow (genuine self harm), but they don't panic about the fact that they're being excluded. they might feel sad and they might have anxiety over the potential of being included on a blocklist or callout post, but they know who they are. no, those posts--and to an extent the label of antishipper itself--create an "in" group. and wherever there's an "in" group and those inside hate the "out" group, those inside either Don't Think About It or they live in fear of being kicked out.

and the same is probably true of some proshipper circles. some people would view a member having a personal squick as a betrayal of the group.

by putting a label on it, you're making it into a club.

that's my criticism of the labels. there is some horrific bullying behaviour on both sides, so i won't bother to criticise that. if you think it's okay to tell someone they should hate themselves or they should be harmed due to their opinions, i don't want to be your friend. i don't think that is ever productive. the only thing it does is make the person saying that kind of thing feel that they have done their civic duty. it doesn't change minds, it doesn't soothe victims, it's just nasty.

in terms of what the labels represent, here are my main criticisms of antishipping (because proshipping is defined as "not antishipping" so is useless to talk about). and i'm focusing on incest here because it's easiest to choose one thing rather than go broad:

it implies that it's impossible for a work of fiction to be about a topic without also condoning it.

it states that liking or disliking a work of fiction is a moral action. by liking something, you are actively doing something bad. by disliking something, you are actively doing something good.

it specifically fixates on the ship--i already mentioned this, but it bears repeating. two siblings kissing is not allowed; explicit torture is, so long as it's not tied to a romantic relationship.

it talks about "normalising" concepts, and to normalise is apparently to make them acceptable in wider society. which is ridiculous:

because if incest didn't exist before supernatural shippers, we wouldn't have had a word for it;

because fanfiction is not something that the majority of wider society is aware of, let alone consuming;

because there are 33,509 fics in dean/sam (supernatural) as of the time of posting, and i promise you that none of those authors are kissing their siblings because they enjoyed writing about fictional brothers kissing. i promise you. because ...

because incest is a very real and very illegal and very fucking bad thing. the vast majority of incest is paedophillic and rape. the vast majority of the offenders are not reading fanfiction. they did not learn that incest existed because of fiction and decide that it was an okay thing to do to someone else. the argument that they would is fucking insane.

it can be comforting to say "people who consume this kind of media are bad, and i don't consume that media so i'm not bad."

it can be comforting to say "i don't associate with anyone who consumes this kind of media, so i am not in danger of being hurt."

it can be comforting to say "by saying that i'm an antishipper / proshipper / terf / terf hater / whatever in my bio, i am signalling to those on the outside of my group that they are unwelcome on my blog and unwelcome in society. i am cleansing my space and the world of those people."

and it's all bullshit.

it doesn't matter.

here's a list of things that you can do that do have a positive impact in the world:

plant a tree. call your mum. smile at the baby in the line in front of you. attend local council meetings and advocate for equality. start a book club. compliment someone's art and reblog it. learn how to say thank you in your country's sign language. buy your mate a coffee. assume people are trying their best. put your pronouns in your email signature. take your dog for a walk. write a story that will make someone feel something.

just be kind.

[prof-ramses]

Shockingly, I have a non Mammon related idea to share. Namely, some ideas I’ve been mulling over of how Belphagor may be characterized:

Bel will be presented as surprisingly genial and diligent with her duties despite being drowsy 24/7 and constantly falling asleep (think Sleep from Orion and the Dark), possibly even being able to function/work while she is sleeping.

Bel will be asleep at all times and basically be a living prop with a reoccurring joke that she’s basically automated everything in her domain so she can get around, work, and even communicate without having to wake up and actually do anything herself.

Bel is a NEET/stoner that stays cooped up in her room, having delegated all of her duties to others and only getting involved when she absolutely has to. Unlike all of the other Sins, she isn’t propped up as some big celebrity around Hell and she dresses very informally/casually, especially compared to the six.

Bel is just straight up Inside Out 2’s Ennui and just doesn’t give a shit. She’s completely uninvolved in pretty much every aspect of Hell’s political landscape and the Sloth ring’s inhabitants have basically made a ramshackle democratic government since she can’t be bothered to lead it.

Bel is just a straight up mad scientist that not only tests her drugs on her subjects, but uses specially made drugs to keep them placid and under her thumb.

I know this is pretty messy and more importantly not Mammon related, but I’ve had these rattling in my head for a while and wanted to them.

Oh, NOW we're taking!

I have some T H O U G H T S on Bel, I've pondered her quite a bit. While I can't explain it fully, Sloth gives me a really uneasy feeling and, in my experience, most powerful entity ensembles usually involves at least one designated creepy member. I think the creepy Sin will either be Levi or Bel.

Now, I will admit there's a chance Levi is the creepy one and what I'm about to say is totally off base, but I would like to share some of my Levi ideas soon, too.

So, my Bel idea is one of those neigh-emotionless "for science/knowledge/progress!" mad scientists, with the twist of being very lax. The reason most Sloth natives are deformed in some way is due to her using her subjects as guinea pigs.

She also has a thing about how efficient things are, like, she has a text to speech keyboard on her hover chair because she deems it more efficient than actually talking.

I also have a HC for Sloth's general past. Bel and Baphomet are a couple who rule Sloth together, or rather, Baphomet does the ruling while Bel is hold up in her lab. Baphomet's creations are the candleheads, while Bel's are the plague doctors from Western Energy, and almost exclusively live in Sloth, mostly working as Bel's personal lab workers. Sloth used to be a vacation destination first and foremost, until the quack wellness market started and Baphomet convinced Bel to rebrand their ring.

Because of this, Baphomet has a typical caricature tourist look, while Bel wears a fancier plague doctor suit which gives her a humanoid outline, despite the fact she's actually badly mutated under her suit.

Hope you like these ideas, they've been brewing in my brain for a while. Also, small thing but I'm that kind of guy, it's actually "Beplhegor", with 2 "e"s.

[soot-and-salt]

I would like to ask about 4. and 17., please! 🤗

Aw hell yeah, let's go

4. a story idea you haven't written yet

Where Hazbin is concerned, hoo boy, have I got some things percolating, my friend. I'm definitely going to do SOMETHING for kink week in June, probably a grab bag of prompts (praise kink for sure), and I'm definitely thinking it'll be radiostatic. I also have a few ideas for the gothic radioapple series (one fic with a drunken confession Lucifer doesn't remember and another that I'm rotating again in my head about Lucifer's depression and how that affects his relationship with Alastor).

I want to return back to humor too, there's been too much maudlin stuff lately, so a VERY funny fic featuring Alastor and Valentino forced to work together is on the horizon. I'm 1k words into it. It's gonna happen, I swear. They're idiots, your honor. I don't know why I love writing Val, he's terrible, but his voice is so much fun.

It's funny, I used to write almost exclusively AUs in another fandom, and I loved doing it, but I can't think of a single one for Hazbin. Being in Hell, being demons and having that background is so essential to the characters. I'm in awe of the authors who can write human Alastor AUs. Wish that were me. Skill issue on my part.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Okay, so, here's the thing. Are you ready for my shameful secret?

I write directly into the AO3 text box. I leave WIPs as drafts.

Yes, it is the most INSANE WAY POSSIBLE to write. I am incredibly sorry about it.

Listen. I've written professionally before, for actual human currency, both fiction and nonfiction. Writing in Google docs gives me so much anxiety now because of it. It's such a dumb problem to have and I want to try to get over it and write in Google docs like a normal person again. But writing IN AO3 is weirdly more freeing? I sort of stop myself from some of my old perfectionist habits and I can be more loose with what I'm doing. Seeing that site is like a signal to my brain that it's just for fun and I can do whatever the hell I want. I don't know how to explain it.

My day job is a stressful mess so I usually only get to write on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and weekends. I don't like to listen to music as I write, or at least not music with lyrics. Lyrics are important to me though, my very long work commute (over an hour each way) provides me with ample time to daydream to music and sometimes I'll hear a lyric and boom an entire fic is suddenly in my head.

Editing is something I currently actually do for human currency as a side hustle so when I edit my own work I'm just trying to focus on spelling/grammar and flow. I'll read out loud what I wrote at least once so I can make sure it has a proper cadence, especially dialogue. If they're characters with accents or a certain way of speaking I'll try to verbally mirror that to make sure they sound in character. So please, by all means, imagine me at like 10pm putting on my very best trans-Atlantic to make sure my Alastor sounds okay.

My main writing issue is I have both crippling anxiety and un-medicated ADHD so any words I get down are often a struggle and some writing nights are spent staring at a wall while I fall apart inside. My best writing nights are ones where I've spent the entire day drinking caffeine (like eight or nine cups of black tea so strong you could stand a spoon up in it) and my brain achieves like 45% of what a normal brain can do. So, you know, things are really going well for me. This is a very normal way to live.

So, uh, yeah, in conclusion, please read my fanfiction, I swear to god I'm pretty good at it. And ask me more questions so I can give you more horrifying answers.

[firefurious]

Persephone didn't even wait to be let in as she practically nudged the door open with her foot. Having exchanged her usual robe for a leather jacket with her club's logo on the back. "Hello, Grace."

After taking a few steps inside, she turned around, arms crossed one over the other. A smirk playing on her lips. "I'm keeping it simple today, because I have so many other places to be. You know me, places to go, people to see." Taking a few steps forward, she reached for one of Grace's stray locks, attempting to gently pluck at it and curl it around her finger.

"Tomorrow evening, Underworld. You on stage."

"Simple, right? And if you're wondering why, I could give you a hundred reasons as to why. But just call it getting even with me for shaming me for my own people. Don't worry, Apollo is getting his own too."

"If you don't want to come despite my subtle threat, then consider the following: Apollo in an apron trying to serve drinks. If that's not enough, then I don't know what you do for fun, dear." The Queen couldn't help but smirk playfully at the image of poor Apollo behind the counter. Yeah, she was absolutely enjoying this moment of impromptu revenge.

"It'll be fun."

// [@dolls-otherworldly-dollhouse]

She had grown used to the intrusions. Gods were not used to the concept of not invading someone's home as it pleased them, it seemed; but Grace didn't mind as much anymore. At the very least, they kept things lively; busy. It could be worse company, and that it was company at all made her content (the silence was one of the worst things; a constant reminder of how alone she was in a home that once belonged to two).

❝ Hey, ❞ is all she answers to the greeting, arms crossed but a smile playing upon her lips. For all their differences — and the issues along the way during the tempestuous days that led to her trial — she harbored no resentment against Persephone. It was nice to see her. ❝ Nice jacket. I like the look. ❞

A healthy weariness of her motivations to do anything, however, had become the standard after their trip to Hades. Grace knows better than to expect this to be simply a nice, friendly visit; she is certain that's not the case the moment the goddess mentions her busy schedule, so casual in her approach (gently playful, even, as she wraps a lock of black hair around her finger).

No question or protest is offered; Grace simply waits. Then it comes: the affirmation that is more demand than request. Not that the Muse minds it, this time. Persephone was asking no otherworldly favor, nothing dangerous or costly. Music was her domain; the stage is where she thrives. Plus Brian and Kaz would be over the moon about the opportunity; playing at a club that belonged to an Idol was no small feat, and the Underworld had quite the exclusive clientele.

Persephone is right that Grace does wonder the why, still. She knows Calliope had taken to the stage there before, but becoming a regular is not in her plans, if that was what the other intended. Getting even, however, sounds a lot more plausible an intention, coming from the Queen of the Underworld. ❝ Still sore about losing to a lost little girl, hm? ❞ The light hum is but the accent to already teasing tone. She tilts her head, amused as she looks up to meet Persephone's gaze. ❝ I think you'd do well to remember you didn't give me much of a choice to begin with. ❞

❝ Apollo, though? He had no part in what happened on the stage. ❞ A raised eyebrow, question obvious in brown eyes even before it is spoken. ❝ How would you even convince him to do that? He hated the noise and the crowd and, well, basically being there. ❞ And the picture painted, while potentially amusing, only made her more certain the God of Prophecy would be miserable in that situation. ❝ I can't imagine him doing that. Not willingly. What are you blackmailing him with? ❞

[baby-xemnas]

Do you think Yusuke Urameshi and Vanitas share a few character similarities in terms of attitude or none at all? Also would they be rivals right out the gate?

disclaimer: if you are like me and hate character comparisons dont read this, obviously there are differences in quality and depth of writing duh

damn this is a headscratcher, rare moment when i dont want to dismiss the question right off the bat because i usually dislike character comparisons (but you are not insisting they are similar so good job there)

they do share a similarity in fighting for fun but the difference there is immediate cuz yusuke just wants anyone strong vs vanitas who if fights for enjoyment its exclusively aqua, he doesnt wanna try to kill whomever (never attacked terra for shits, i wont stop pointing it out)

i would say that you could also compare their alienation from people when it comes to morality, but in a subtle way? like yusuke is capable of cruelty and can be cold on purpose because of his origin and how much he internalized being treated like a demon his whole life which is sorta kinda a little similar how if vanitas does enter society and lives like a normal person he would still be fucked up deep inside (but he isnt UNAWARE of what normalcy is, he just cant relate so here its a conscious choice as well) so its true for both of them whereis a thought that would shock a "normal person" would be shrugged off by them cuz they are sick in the head (fond)

those are things i would say are similar off the top of my head

good ask thank you! love these guys

[pazodetrasalba]

Morality plays

Dear Caroline:

I was a bit surprised by your stating that the best fictional moralities are like this. Does the adjective imply that in the case of non-fictional moral choices you adopt a different stance, or merely that the above mentioned moral issues are simply the ones you enjoy encountering the most while consuming fiction? Of course, this doesn't have to be a case of exclusive or, as it could perfectly well be both.

Still, my intuition is that you share this mindset for your real-world decision making, and it can be gleaned in texts of yours where you preach the virtues of doing the hard, the unpleasant and the difficult in a sort of secular ascesis and training of the spirit. At the same time, you also drop in occasional references to your supposed laziness and not living up to the most stringent practices of the Ideal EA.

Preachy and ethical literature has long been unpopular in the contemporary world, but perhaps you are acquainted with the morality play,  a genre of early Tudor drama which usually featured 'embodied' virtues and vices, angels and demons, all struggling for the soul of the generic human character. This is actually a very old and medievally flavored type of writing, inaugurated by Prudentius' Psychomachia and flowing along a broad allegorical river or labyrinth through the Ordo Virtutum, The Castle of Perseverance, Everyman and The Pilgrim's Progress. And yet in transmuted form, it still manages to rear its (not necessarily) ugly head in both high and low genres - an example of the first could be Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain, where Settembrini and Naphta fight for the soul and mind of Hans Castorp and embody liberal versus reactionary/socialist worldviews, and of the second, the rationalist fanfics you so like to read.

A more secularist view of these moral conundrums would perhaps tie them with arguments from evolutionary psychology, and the tension members of the human species have between the instincts of self-preservation and self-sacrifice, egoism and altruism. We are somewhere in the middle of a spectrum that runs from bees and ants, all too willing to let themselves die for the greater good, to snakes and some other unsocial species that hardly ever collaborate even with lovers and offspring. And probably closer to the latter than the former, which would explain why so much indoctrination and stern social rules and punishments are necessary to get most people to behave.

We could also talk about moral luck, the ways in which morality plays a devious game of chess with chance and generates from similar inputs vastly different judgemental outputs. Myself, I'd rather not be put to the test (Lead us not into temptation) lest I should fall short, a feeling that must be tormenting you greatly on the inside these days, when fear of the future might retreat just enough to allow for this sort of reflections. Even if you fell, remember that despair is a much greater sin, and whatever the οἱ πολλοί might think or say, I trust in your innate goodness, and believe in some secular form of Romans 8:28 - “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”. You are a lovely candle shining in present darkness, Caroline, and I am sure you are worth the hope.

Quote:

Now I shall sing the second kingdom there where the soul of man is cleansed, made worthy to ascend to Heaven.

Here from the dead let poetry rise up, O sacred Muses, since I am yours. Here let Calliope arise...

Dante, Purgatorio

[kittyt-hexxed]

Thank God You Introduced Me to Your Sister (Vi x Fem!Reader)

Part One - Heated Flirting

Part One | Final Part

Author Note: You're lying to yourself if you can listen to this song and not imagine Vi.

Word Count: 5061

Warnings: Dom Vi, smut, fingering, face-sitting, edging, non-exclusive dating, awkward conversations, The Last of Us 2 spoilers

Summary: You head to Mylo's house expecting to hang out alone for once, but that expectation is immediately crushed when you see his friends there. Things start taking a turn when his sister comes downstairs...

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time as you approach Mylo’s house. This is the first time you’re going to be at his house since you started dating a month ago. Usually, you’d meet up at the roller rink with your friends, but he wanted to hang out at home today since it’s supposed to rain. How does that affect going out to a café or something, you don’t know. Truthfully, you think it’s because he wants to play that new video game he got for his birthday. It’s all he talked about for a week every time you saw him. 

You don’t mind hanging out at his place, but this will be the first time you meet his family. When you asked if it would be just the two of you, he said that his older sister would be home as well. That was almost enough to get you to say ”no” but he promised you’d get to hang out alone. So, here you are standing outside of his house filled with anxiety. You definitely weren’t at a point to meet his family, so if you decide to call this quits… it’ll be very awkward.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door before taking a few steps back. You nervously glance down at your outfit, a simple pair of jeans with your favorite flannel covering your top. ‘Should I have worn something fancier? Maybe I should have picked out my cleaner-looking converse? Fuck, it’s too late to go home and change anyway.’ You’re pulled out of your panic by the sound of the door opening and you snap your head up.

“You could have texted me that you’re here, Y/n.” Mylo sighs, “I would have met you at the door.” He opens the door wider for you to come inside. You roll your eyes as you take your shoes off.

“I did. You probably didn’t look at your phone after I told you I was on my way.” You raise an eyebrow at him as you tuck your keys into your pocket. You glance up at the stairs before turning back to him with your hands on your hips.

“Shit, sorry. I got caught up playing that new zombie survival game.” Mylo clears his throat awkwardly, and you have to stop yourself from smirking, “Anyway, come on, we’re hanging out in the living room.” He grabs your hand and pulls you to the room. When you get there you can’t help but feel a little angry seeing his friends sprawled around the floor. ‘There wasn’t any mention of his friends being here. He said that we’d be alone, not… this.’ You frown slightly.

“Hey, guys! Y/n’s here.” Mylo announces and his friends greet you before going back to their game. He tells you where the bathroom is and you nod. You take a seat on the couch next to him as he argues with one of the guys about something. Meanwhile, you were wondering why you’ve never had a single moment alone with him that was longer than five minutes.

“So what are you guys playing?” You ask Marc as he hands the controller over to Mylo.

“Just a regular co-op zombie shooter game. We wanted to play Smash Bros but Mylo’s sister won’t let him borrow her switch.” Marc shrugs, “Apparently she needs it for something.” You nod your head and watch your boyfriend yell at his friends. Your phone buzzes and you open the text from your friend - ‘Get any alone time with Mylo? ;)’ You scoff quietly and shake your head at the message. ‘I wasn’t planning on doing anything with him, but some quiet time together would’ve been nice.’ You tuck your phone into your pocket and turn your attention back to the group. They were still shouting at each other and panicking that the zombies were getting through.

“MYLO, FOR FUCKS SAKE, KEEP YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS OUT OF MY STUFF!” You hear someone scream, followed by footsteps pounding down the stairs. Curious, you turn your head to the sound and nearly choke on your own spit. A woman comes around the corner with an annoyed glare on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. ‘Fuck, she’s hot, even with a glare on her face.’ Your eyes widen at her large muscles and tatted arms. A definite weakness of yours. The guys pause the game in a hurry as Mylo practically jumps off of the couch.

“Vi!” Mylo hisses anxiously, “Not in front of the guys!” He motions to his friends on the floor. Oh, she’s his older sister… Wait. SHE’S his older sister?! Ah, shit, and she’s totally my type.’ You lower your head.

“Not in front of the guys!” Vi mocks him, “Where the fuck are my Docs, Mylo? I told you to stop taking my shoes. Aren’t they a little too big for your tiny feet?” She rolls her eyes. You raise an eyebrow in amusement as Mylo glances at you with a panicked look in his eyes. ‘I didn’t know he liked Docs. He never said anything when I talked about them.’

“They’re in Claggor’s room. I was going to give them back… eventually.” Mylo hesitates and glances at you again. ’Is he looking at me because he’s embarrassed?’ His sister follows his gaze and you make eye contact with her. ’She has beautiful eyes…’ Her eyebrows go up as she turns to him.

“Is she one of your friends?” Vi asks. Mylo suddenly seems to puff up at her question.

“No, actually, she’s my girlfriend.” Mylo says smugly and it has you raising your eyebrows. ‘Where the hell did that come from? We’re just dating.’ Vi’s eyebrows go up as well but her face brightens in amusement.

“Your… girlfriend.” Vi responds slowly, as if testing the words, “Why am I learning about her now?”

“Because you don’t always have to be in my business.” Mylo scoffs, but Vi ignores him and walks past her brother to approach you. ‘Wait. Wait. Wait, she’s coming to me?!’ You panic for a moment as she comes over and she stops in front of you, holding her hand out.

“I’m Vi.” Vi introduces herself, “That dweeb’s older sister. What’s your name?” You blink and shake her hand, idly noting that they’re soft yet calloused. ‘I wonder what she does for her hands to be like this.’

“I’m Y/n.” You smile, trying not to melt when she gives you one in return. You stare at each other for a moment, a smirk flashing onto Vi’s face before she lets go of your hand. 

“Okay, now you’ve met her. I told you where your boots are. Can my friends and I hang out in peace?” Mylo huffs and crosses his arms. ‘There he goes again with the friends thing.’ You roll your eyes, awkwardly glancing away when you notice that Vi saw you.

“Ah, I’ll hang around for a bit. I’ve got nowhere to be today, and I’ve got a new person to get to know.” Vi shrugs, plopping down next to you on the couch. You don’t miss the way your heart flutters by that action. Mylo throws his hands up in exasperation but doesn’t protest what his sister does. He takes his seat and gets back into the game without a word to either of you. You and Vi sit quietly next to each other and watch the guys play their games. You can’t help but feel a bit agitated, fidgeting in your seat, knowing that the woman is next to you. There was something about her that you couldn’t help but be very attracted to, so it wasn’t long before you caved into speaking to her.

“So, do you attend Piltover-Zaun University? Or do you go somewhere else?” You glance at her from the corner of your eye. 

“I go to the university, but I finished my classes early for this semester.” Vi turns to you and you follow her lead. You curl up on the couch, giving Vi all of your attention without much thought.

“Really?! I wish I could, but one of my professors has the courses locked.” You groan, feeling a little jealous, “I want to be done with my courses.”

“Ah, you could always do your work here. I can keep you company.” Your heart flutters a bit at the words. ‘I don’t know if that’s meant to be friendly or an invitation for sex… but that smile she’s giving me doesn’t help me figure it out.’

“I’ll have to think about it. I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.” You shake your head.

“I’m offering.” Vi chuckles, “It can get lonely when you’re doing things on your own.”

“Yeah, it can.” You nod, “...Do you do anything outside of college? Like a hobby or something?”

“I’m a boxer and I also do weightlifting. Those are my main things.”

“Really?” You gasp, “I’ve always wanted to weightlift but I’m way too shy to workout in a gym.” People always tell you that no one looks, but that didn’t help. You really were just too shy to work out in the gym. No one you asked would go with you so you stopped asking.

“Awe that’s cute, maybe you need someone to go with you. That should make it easier.”

“You’re not going to offer?” You playfully gasp, “I set it up so nicely too!”

“Maybe I just want you to ask me.” Vi shrugs playfully, flashing you a smile. You suck in a breath. ‘She’s definitely flirting. Fuck.’

“Hey, Y/n!” Mylo calls to you, “Come play!” He waves a controller at you and you hesitate. ‘I kind of want to talk to Vi more… and I really don’t want to play against him.’

“You’re playing against me, Harpy!” Marc motions you over, “It’s only a fair fight!”

“Hey!” Mylo cries out and you snort.

“Go play or we’ll never hear the end of it.” Vi nudges you. You bite your lip and nod at her.

“Alright, dumbass, I’m coming.” You stand up, “Talk to you later, Vi.” You wave at her before snatching the controller from Mylo. You sit down and end up going a few rounds with Marc as the others cheer you on. They crack some jokes that are not very funny but you fake-laugh with them. Sometime between matches, Vi disappears and you feel your mood drop a bit. Marc seems to be the only one who notices as he starts going easier on you. That drop in mood ends up making you lose the last match and you call it, handing the controller off to someone else.

“Hey, Mylo. I’m gonna grab a drink.” You say to him and he nods.

“There’s soda and stuff on the counter in the kitchen.” Mylo says without taking his eyes off of the screen, “Help yourself.” You shake your head as you walk into the kitchen. ‘I think I’m gonna leave soon. I don’t really feel any chemistry with Mylo and the only person I hang out with is Marc.’ You stop in the doorway and take a moment to scan the room. You find the drinks sitting on the center island and grab a cup. Now that there weren’t people shouting in your ears, you can hear the rain going on outside. You hum to yourself as you pour out some of the soda. You glance towards the living room and decide to stay in the kitchen until you finish your drink. Idly, you lean up against the sink casually sipping while you look around the area. A sound from the door makes you turn your attention to it and you see Vi walk into the kitchen. You pause mid-drink, eyes sliding up her body as you take in how she looks in workout clothes. ‘Holy shit, she has a body of a God.’ Your clit throbs at the thought of being underneath her.

“Are you okay there?” Vi’s voice snaps you out of your staring. You blink and blush when you realize that you’ve been caught staring. In the time you’ve been ogling her body, Vi had already poured herself a drink and leaned up against the center island. ‘Fuck, think of an excuse. Think of an excuse!’ You panic seeing her amused smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just- okay, this might be a stupid question… but, is that your natural hair color?” You ask sheepishly, hoping she doesn’t realize it's a deflection. Truthfully, you were a bit surprised by the shockingly pink hair she sports, but it didn’t seem like it is hair dye. If it was, it fits her very well. Your question earns you a chuckle that makes your pulse speed up.

“It’s natural.” Vi gives you a bright smile, “You’re not the first person to ask. My mom’s hair was purple and my little sister’s hair is blue.”

“Oh thank the Gods!” You sigh in relief, “It wasn’t a stupid question.”

“Eh, it was cute.” Vi chuckles, making you blush a little harder, “So, how the hell did a girl like you end up with my brother?”

“Ah, well… my friend group is kind of mixed in with his. He showed up at a get-together we had last month and he asked me out.” You swirl the soda around in your cup, “I didn’t have anyone I was interested in, so I saw no harm in it.”

“No harm?” Vi raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “You wouldn’t have said that if you were completely into him. Come on, you can tell me the truth.” She teases you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You glance back at the guys, all of them sitting on the floor and shouting at each other. ‘I know she’ll listen to what I have to say…’

“There’s nothing to tell.” You say nonchalantly, turning your gaze back to her, “I’m not his girlfriend and we’re not even exclusive. We’ve only gone on a couple of dates.”

“I know.” Vi puts down her cup and approaches you, “You didn’t confirm what he said, and even looked a bit confused by his words.”

“Yeah, I didn’t have the chance to correct him.” You sigh and put your empty cup down, “I’m going to have to talk to him about it. I don’t understand why he’d lie about that.”

“I do.” Vi leans against the counter in front of you, “He didn’t want to be embarrassed. My brother isn’t really the kind of guy that girls are interested in. My other siblings and I have had our fair share of relationships and flings. Him, on the other hand? Not so much… He was trying to look cool.”

“That’s no excuse to lie.” You cross your arms, feeling annoyed, “In front of me, too.”

“You’re right.” Vi nods, moving closer to you, “It’s not an excuse and it wasn’t okay.” She puts her hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“Honestly, today was my last chance to see if he cared enough.” You have to look away from her, feeling flustered at the closeness, “He ruined it the moment I showed up.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here… even if my brother messed up.” Vi smiles, “I wouldn’t have gotten to meet a cute girl like you.” You blush and this time you know she sees it.

“Thanks.” You clear your throat, “I’m gonna head back in there if you’d like to join?”

“Ah, sure. Let me shower and I’ll come back down.” You nod and head out of the kitchen. ‘So she’s definitely into women. And I’m definitely into her. I thought I was going to die when she was that close to me.’ You take your seat on the couch and blankly watch the guys. Leave it to you to be into someone’s sister. Your mind wanders to the thought of Vi in the shower and you snap yourself out of it. ‘That is not a thought to have. No. No, don’t think like that.’ You scold yourself.

It’s not long before Vi comes back and takes a seat next to you. A pleasant-smelling cologne comes from her direction and you have to stop yourself from commenting on it. Subconsciously, you move closer to Vi and nudge her, “What took you so long? I thought I was going to die of boredom!” You joke.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Vi chuckles, “I got a bit too deep in thought while I was in the shower.”

“That happens to me sometimes. I love being under the hot water but I also think a lot when I’m in the shower.” You catch Vi shamelessly eyeing you and she winks when your eyes meet.

“I can only imagine.” Vi says silkily and your body flushes with heat. You clear your throat and turn away to hide your blush.

“Anyway, I’m probably going to go home soon.”

“I think you should stay a little longer. I’m enjoying your company.” You feel Vi’s hand on your thigh and you swallow hard. ‘If I felt like I was going to die earlier, I’m dying right now.’ You glance at her but she’s looking somewhere else.

“I might… uh…” Your mind feels a bit fuzzy, too distracted by the heat of her hand, “Excuse me.” You squeak out and stand up.

“Where are you going?” Mylo glances at you curiously. ‘Oh, so now you’re paying attention to me?’

“The bathroom.” You quickly respond, feeling Vi’s eyes on you as you turn the corner. You hurry up the stairs, remembering the instructions Mylo gave you, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You exhale heavily, pressing your palms against the countertop as you try to steady yourself. You were really feeling Vi and it’s clear that she’s feeling you as well. You shake your head and turn the water on to splash your face. ‘I’ll just tell her that it’s too soon. That I don’t want to do anything with her...’ The wet feeling of your panties says otherwise and you sigh knowing that you’re in a tough situation.

“Why does his sister have to be so attractive and into me?” You pout before opening the door. You freeze when you see Vi leaning up against the wall across from you. 

“What took you so long? I thought I was going to die from boredom.” Vi says with a teasing smile. Any thoughts you had about telling her you weren’t interested vanish from your mind. Because, fuck, you’re very interested.

“I wanted to see if you’d come and get me.” You step in front of her, “And you did.”

“I think… you needed to get away from me.” Vi whispers, her face right in front of yours, “Or am I wrong?”

“Like I said… I wanted you to come and get me.” You whisper back. Vi smirks and grabs your hand, leading you down the hallway and into her bedroom. Her walls were covered in various things like anime fanart, boxing, and some band posters. There was also a collection of polaroids that you assume are of her and her friends. You hear the lock on the door click behind you and butterflies erupt in your stomach. ‘I’m alone with her now.’

“You can sit down.” Vi chuckles and pulls you over to the bed.

“Sorry, I was a bit distracted by your room. Is that a Last of Us poster?” You point out the poster on the wall as you sit next to her.

“Yup, it’s one of my favorite games. The second one fucked with me though.” Vi snorts, “Seeing Ellie spiral like that and then the switch that they pulled with Abby? Ugh, I genuinely thought I was going to cry in the final fight.”

“I did cry while playing the final fight.” You giggle, “I had such a crush on Abby and Ellie that it pained me. I think I was reading hurt/comfort fanfiction for a while after that.” You and Vi get comfortable on her bed as you converse. You two sit facing each other, knees touching without much thought. 

“Noo, not the fanfiction!” Vi snickers, “I managed to not fall down that rabbit hole… at least for that fandom.” You start laughing and Vi joins in. You slowly stop, staring into her eyes as you become entranced by the way they sparkle in the light.

“Can I kiss you?” Vi whispers, leaning into you.

“Please do.” You breathe out. Vi’s lips are on yours the moment you give her permission. You practically melt in her arms as you’re pulled onto her lap. The kiss is hot, needy, and you’re definitely turned on. Her hands are firmly grabbing your waist, keeping you in place so you’re where she wants you to be.

“Do you… want to take this further?” Vi gives you a sly smirk. You raise an eyebrow and push her down onto the bed.

“Of course I do.” You smirk back, “How can I pass you up?”

“Good, because I really want you to ride my face.” Vi confesses and your jaw drops.

“Vi!” You laugh, “Did you really just say that?”

“I’ll say it again if you want me to.” Vi grins at you, “I want to feel your thighs tremble around me when you orgasm.” You stare down at her with a pleasantly surprised grin.

“Alright then.” You smirk and strip in front of her, taking your time to give her a show. You had worn your favorite bra and pantie set, even though you had no intentions of having sex. Sometimes wearing it gave you the little confidence boost you needed. You hear Vi suck in a breath and you watch in amusement as she hurries to take off her clothes.

“Damn.” You breathe out, taking in her abs and the tattoo covering her back. You were definitely going to be sitting on that woman’s face. You push Vi back down and make out with her, letting her remove your bra and panties in the process. Vi flips you over so that you’re beneath her this time You were still in a bit of shock that you were up in her room, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. Especially not when Vi’s hand finds its way between your legs and she’s giving your clit the attention it was craving. You moan against her lips, her tongue stealing your breath away as she abuses your clit. It’s almost laughable how quickly your orgasm builds from that alone. 

“Vi, I’m gonna-” You whine when she moves her hand, denying you of your release.

“Not yet, princess.” Vi purrs, slipping her fingers into your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, Y/n.” Vi breathes out, “Did I make you that wet?”

“You were practically eye-fucking me earlier.” You pant, your breath hitching as Vi presses her fingers to your g-spot, “Yes, yes you-” You moan loudly as she fingers you faster, cutting off your sentence. You dig your nails into her shoulders, desperately needing something to steady yourself. Her fingers felt so good and the mixture of pleasure and her cologne makes your head spin. Once again, you feel your orgasm building and you practically fuck yourself on her fingers.

“Are you going to cum for me, darling?” Vi whispers in your ear.

“Yes, yes, I am!” You gasp as she thrusts her fingers into your g-spot.

“Well, I can’t have that, can I?” Vi chuckles.

“Vi, please!” You groan in aggravation as she removes her hand again, “Please make me cum.” You beg her.

“Oh, I will.” Vi smirks, sucking you off her fingers, “But, I did say I want you to ride my face.” You huff and grab her shoulders, turning so she’s the one with her back to the bed. You crawl up her body and Vi helps you position yourself over her mouth.

“You better let me cum or I’ll suffocate you.” You playfully threaten her.

“What a wonderful way to die.” Vi purrs and you can’t hold in your laugh. In the middle of your laughter, Vi brings your hips down and licks along your slit.

“Fuuck.” You groan in surprise, feeling her laughter against your cunt, “You’re such a fucking tease.” You huff and lower yourself the rest of the way. Vi doesn’t hesitate to slip her tongue into you with a moan leaving her lips at the taste of you. It’s seconds later that you’re scrambling to grip the headboard as she eats you out. You can’t even begin to describe how skillful Vi is with her tongue. The sounds coming from below you are fucking obscene with how greedily she laps at you. Through your moaning, you can hear and feel her muffled ones. Even though you’re the one on top, Vi is clearly the one in control as she fucks you on her tongue. Her grip on your hips is bruising but she has no issue keeping your body steady as your thighs start to tremble. ‘I guess those muscles aren’t for show.’ You moan, that knot in your abdomen getting tighter by the second.

“Don’t you dare stop this time.” You try to say firmly, but it comes out as a plea. You were right there and you didn’t know if you could handle being denied a third time. You were desperately grinding your pussy against her, one hand tangling in her hair as you do. You were chasing your orgasm at this point and Vi didn’t let up. If anything, she paid extra attention to that sweet spot of yours.

“Ahh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, grinding down harder. The tension in your abdomen is at its peak and you’re throwing your head back with a loud moan as it snaps. Your hips lose all motion as your body stills, your orgasm tearing through you and making your thighs shake. You temporarily lose your senses as you squirt on Vi’s tongue, cumming harder than you have in a while. 

You pant as you try to catch your breath, shakily lifting yourself off of Vi and feeling a bit disoriented. You feel Vi’s hands back on your hips as she helps you sit on her bed. She wraps an arm around your shoulder and holds you as your mind clears from the fog it’s in.

“Shit.” You laugh incredulously, “If I knew you fucked like that I would’ve been in here a lot sooner.”

“If I knew you tasted that good, I would’ve asked you to come up a lot sooner.” Vi grins, your cum glistening on her lips. You sit there grinning at each other until you hear your phone ping from somewhere in the room. You slide off of the bed, wobbling slightly, and grab your phone from your pants pocket. ‘Five missed messages?’ You open the most recent one to see that they’re all from your friend. ‘Leaving me on read?! Damn, I guess you are fucking, huh? …Tell me all about it later!’ You snort, your eyes flicking to the time and you can't help but sigh. You’ve been gone for a lot longer than a bathroom break.

“Everything good?” Vi comes over to you, handing you your undergarments.

“Yeah.” You chuckle, putting them back on, “I’ve been gone a bit longer than a bathroom break. I doubt he noticed though.” You two get dressed while cracking jokes with each other. You found yourself really loving your time with Vi and you selfishly didn’t want it to end. After exchanging numbers, you feel a lot more confident in your decision.

“Ready to head back down?” Vi grabs the doorknob.

“Ready.” You grin. You take your time heading down the stairs, hearing the guys cursing each other with a new voice you didn’t recognize. You reach the bottom of the stairs to see them all in the same places from earlier, except for a new guy sitting with them. You share a glance with Vi before walking over to Mylo. You tap him on the shoulder and wait for the guys to pause the game. ‘It’s now or never.’

“I’m heading out. And, I don’t appreciate you telling your sister that I’m your girlfriend. We were only dating and I’m calling that off. You clearly rather date your friends, so I’m out of here.” You cross your arms, “Bye, Marc. I’ll see you in calculus.” You wave and walk away as the guys start to snicker.

“I told you he’d fumble her.” Marc snorts.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Mylo shouts.

“He’s right.” You hear that unknown voice again, “Face it, Mylo, you’re just not relationship material.” Vi walks you to the door and waits for you to put your shoes on. It’s not until you’re outside with the door shut that she says something. You’re relieved that the rain has stopped at this point.

“You should meet up with me on campus. I’d love to take you out on a proper date.” Vi says casually, leaning against the wall.

“I’m not a conflict of interest after being with your brother?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nah.” Vi shakes her head, “You’re too cute to pass up. My brother can be angry all he wants.”

“Okay.” You nod, a grin making its way onto your face, “I’ll text you about it when I get home.”

“Drive safe, okay? I don’t want to lose you so soon.” Vi tosses you your keys and you catch them with a laugh.

“Thanks. I promise I’ll be safe. I can’t leave you alone so soon.” You wink at her. You head to your car and get in, watching Vi disappear inside. You exhale heavily before a giggle bubbles up in your throat. ‘Holy shit. Holy shit, I did that.’ You grab your phone, going to your friend’s contact as soon as it opens.

‘Okay, I totally fucked but it wasn’t him…’

‘Wtf? Who did you have sex with then?!’ Her response was instant.

‘His very attractive sister… who I have a date with.’

‘...Damn, so he’s out?’

‘Yeah, he’s out. Thank God he introduced me to his sister though. I have so much to tell you. Can I come by?’ You drum your fingers against your thigh as you wait. ‘Hell yes! Come right now!’ You laugh and put your phone down. This was a day you’d never forget.