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therealcocoshady · 3 days ago

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Hii

I lost my puppy recently, can you please write one where the reader is a bit depressed and Marshall gives her a puppy?

A/N : Hi Anon ! I’m so sorry about you losing your puppy ! I’m sending you tons of love 💕. I wrote a little something and I hope you like it !

Finding purpose 🐶

« I dont know, » you’d said in that monotone voice of yours. « I just feel like… there’s no purpose. I have no purpose ».

After weeks of beating around the bush, Marshall had finally confronted you, and your answer broke his heart. You were the most vibrant person he had ever met, so full of life and laughter. But in the past few months, he had seen you decaying. Your laugh, once his favorite sound, seemed like a distant memory and he couldn’t tell the last time he’d seen you actually smile, no matter how hard he tried. You had become withdrawn, distant. Sometimes, he would at you and he could see stare into the abyss, as if your mind was miles away. But every time he would ask what’s on your mind, you would shrug it off.

His first instinct was to blame himself. Maybe he’d taken you for granted. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. He was never really good at keeping his longtime girlfriends entertained, his workaholic nature often taking over. But his best efforts to win you over with impromptu date nights and presents seemed to be in vain. Then, he tried asking your friends, but no one seemed to know what was going on. As far as they knew, nothing had happened. You were doing ok at work. Your family was fine. And as far as they knew, you didn’t have beef with anyone. So it was kind of a mystery. But still, the facts were there : you kept on withdrawing, keeping people at a distance. You were once the life of the party, but you barely went out anymore. Even keeping up with your text messages proved to be difficult. Yet, everyone was getting increasingly worried. They could see the dim smiles, the dark circles, the weight fluctuation… They all tried to be subtle about it, not wanting to be insensitive or too harsh. Until Marshall decided enough was enough.

You had ghosted him for three days. No phone, no text. Nothing. When he showed up at your place, he was immediately taken aback by your gaunt face and hollow eyes. You weren’t alright and he was done being subtle about it. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he let himself in, your eyes dull and tired. « Thank God I have your spare key » he sighed. « Otherwise, I would have called the cops to report you were missing ». You looked down, mumbling an apology. « We gotta talk » he declared in a voice that was a little sharper than he intended. You turned your head back to him, hough your eyes remained dull and distant. « About what? » you asked. He sighed and sat in the chair across you. « About you » he said. « About whatever’s been eating you alive for the past weeks. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine. You think I don’t notice ? You think I don’t see how different you’re acting ? »

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. « I’m fine, Marshall » you mumbled, though even you could tell how unconvincing you sounded. « Stop! » he snapped, his frustration evident. « You’re not fine. You’ve barely said more than five words to me in a day for the past three weeks! You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t smile. And I’m sick and tired of pretending like everything’s ok when it’s clearly not ». His voice was getting louder and louder, his tone sharp and cutthroat. You couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes and, for a second, you were pretty sure you were going to lash out at him. But instead, your face crumpled and you let out a shaky breath. « I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marshall » you whispered, your voice cracking. « I don’t know. I just feel like… There’s no purpose. I have no purpose. Like nothing I do matters. I wake up, and I don’t see the point of getting up. No purpose ».

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood up and crossed the room in a few quick strides, taking a seat on the couch, right next to you. You tried to turn away but he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. « Listen to me » he said, his voice low but steady. « You do have a purpose. You do matter. You matter to me. I don’t care what’s gong on in that beautiful head of yours, I’m not letting you drown in it. We’ll figure this out together. But you need to let me in and tell me how you’re feeling, babe ». You nodded, letting your tears spill over. « I don’t even know where to start » you quietly sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to anger in his embrace, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds. He held you against his chest, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed, letting out the storm that had been going on inside your mind, that was too much for you to put into words. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, Marshall never letting go of you, whispering sweet words of reassurance. « We just start here, Y/N. You and me. You’re not alone. I’m here. ». Eventually, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep, your head resting against his chest, your breath uneven but steady. But Marshall couldn’t follow suit. Your words kept on echoing in his mind. The way you said you don’t see the point of getting up, that you had no purpose… You had said it with such emptiness, like the thought had been carved into your very soul. He could see the pain, the suffering in your eyes. He could hear it in your voice. And he wished he could take it away, suffer in your place. All he wanted was to make you happy. You were the love of his life, a beautiful soul, and you deserved nothing but happiness. And he couldn’t sleep until he found a way to give it to you. Sadly, words wouldn’t do. He needed something more. Something real, tangible. Something that would bring back the light in your eyes.

And then, like a lightbulb flickering in the darkness, he had an idea.

The next day, your boyfriend found himself standing in the middle of an animal shelter. To say he was feeling out of his element would be the understatement of the year. He’d had a few pets in his day, but he had sworn off them a long time ago, arguing that they required too much work, too much energy. But maybe it was exactly what you needed. Something that would require work and energy, that would give you a reason to get out of bed. The sound of barking and meowing filled the air as he walked past rows pf cages. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. And he did. There was a small dog waddling inside one of the kennels, its stubbly legs moving unevenly. He had a misshapen ear that flopped to one side, a patchy coat that looked like it has seen better days and a back leg that didn’t quite work right. It wasn’t conventionally cute but it had the kind of charm that he knew would tug at your heart. He’d seen you at the market, picking up bruised apples and misshapen tomatoes, sad that nobody else would want them. He saw you pour your heart not the smallest things, believing they deserved love too. Hell, you had taken him in, of all people. That had to be the ultimate sign you didn’t mind things - or people - being a little broken.

He pointed the dog to the staff member that was with him. « That’s Ralph. This little guy came in a few months ago » she explained. « He’s got some mobility issues and… well, he’s not the first one people ask about but he’s a good one. Loves cuddles and, despite the leg thing, walks, too ». Marshall crouched down, holding his hand out. Ralph sniffed it tentatively, then licked his fingers before flopping over on its side, demanding belly rubs. Marshall laughed and indulged him. He could already picture you with him. « This is the one » he said with a smile.

When he got to your place, Ralph waddled awkwardly behind him, its tiny legs working double-time to keep up. He’d picked up a few essentials - a bed, food, a leash, a couple of toys - but he knew the dog wouldn’t need much to win you over. You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You looked up as Marshall walked in, your eyes tired but curious. « What’s going on? » you asked, your voice soft. Instead of answering, your boyfriend stepped aside, revealing the little dog, who waddled into view, its mismatched body moving with clumsy determination. You let out a gasp, sitting up straight as the dog barked once, a cheerful and awkward sound that definitely matched his appearance. « Marshall…? What…? » you whispered, hands flying to your mouth.

« I heard what you said, » he told you, his voice steady but gentle. « About not having a reason to get up in the morning. And I figured maybe this little guy could help with that. » He gestured to Ralph, who was now sniffing the corner of the coffee table. « He’s not perfect. He’s got a bum leg and kind of a funky look, but… I thought maybe you’d see him the way you see those lopsided peaches at the market. The ones you always say deserve love, even if no one else thinks so. » Tears filled your eyes, spilling over as you slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. The dog trotted over to you, tail wagging furiously, and licked at your hands. You laughed through your tears, scooping the little guy into your lap and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.« He’s perfect, » you whispered, your voice trembling. « Absolutely perfect. » Marshall knelt beside you, watching as you showered your new friend with affection. « He’s yours, » he said. « And he’s gonna need you. You’ll have to help him get around sometimes, maybe even carry him when he’s having a rough day. But I thought… I thought you could take care of each other. »

You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that had been missing for too long. Hope. « Thank you, » you said, your voice thick with emotion. « I… I don’t even know what to say. » He gave you a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. « You don’t have to say anything. Just get up tomorrow morning and love him. That’s it ».

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine

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marauder-misprint · 1 day ago

Text

Hair ii

part 1 part 2

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

2.2k words

cw - fluff

Your last class of the day ends and you sigh as you realize that you’ll have to give the hair tie back. Remus isn’t in your last class so you try to look around for him. You check a few places that he might be with no success. You decide to just keep your hair up until after dinner. You know he won’t skip dinner and you can give the hair tie back then. You work on homework in your house’s common room until dinner.

From your spot at the table, you see Remus and wave. You don’t make a move towards him yet; you want to eat with your hair up. Ink in your hair was one thing. Food would be so much worse. You only half listen to your friends’ conversation as you keep glancing in Remus’ direction. You wish you had your parchment from class earlier today so you could add to the tally marks of catching Remus staring in your direction.

After you finish eating, you make your way to where he is still sitting with his friends. As you get closer, he stands up and meets you halfway. He looks just as nervous as he had earlier. And over his shoulder, you see his friends exchange mischievous glances and whispered comments. Once Remus is standing right in front of you, you remove the hair tie and it’s impossible to not notice the faint blush creeping up Remus’ neck as you do so.

“Thanks for the hair tie. Today had a lot less swearing, thanks to your, erm, connections.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says breathlessly. “No problem. My pleasure. Glad I could help you out.”

You hold out the hair tie for him to take and return to Sirius. He takes it and immediately shoves it into his pocket. There’s a beat of silence between you. It’s awkward with neither of you knowing what to say but not wanting to turn away.

“So, ah,” you say, running your hand through your hair. It’s amazing how quickly you’re uncomfortable with it being down somewhere other than your dorm.

“Yeah,” Remus says in response to whatever you said. He couldn’t take his eyes off how your hair fell around your face, making your features pop more than he was used to. “Um, do you need to get more hair ties?”

“That or beg my roommates to search for mine with me.” You look around the Great Hall. “I’m still not sure where they could’ve gone.”

“Would, erm, would you want to go to Hogsmeade? With me?” he asks. “To get more hair ties,” he adds to clarify.

“Oh! That would be nice. I just need to grab my cloak.”

“Me too. Obviously,” he says with a chuckle. “Meet back at the gate?”

You nod and walk out of the hall with Remus. Although you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, you swear you hear some howling from behind you, roughly as far away as his friends were sitting. You’re not sure what that’s about.

Remus is waiting for you at the gate when you get there. You had decided to change out of your uniform for this impromptu Hogsmeade trip; Remus hadn’t. He still had on his uniform, but it was loosened to be more comfortable.

“Ready?” he asks as he offers you his arm.

“Yup!” you say with a shake of your coin purse before you take his arm.

You don’t look at Remus’ face the whole walk to Hogsmeade. You felt your face heat up the moment you took his arm and you didn’t want him to see you blushing so furiously. If you had looked at him, you would’ve seen him blushing the same amount. You try to ignore your hair as it blows in the wind, but every few steps, you’re moving it out of your face, tucking it behind your ear or tossing it over your shoulder. It’s quiet as you walk, just the sound of your feet against the stone, the waves of the Black Lake and the leaves fluttering in the breeze. It really was a lovely evening with the sun low in the sky. It would certainly be dark by the time you walk back.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you always wear your hair up?” Remus asks.

“Keeps it out of the way,” you answer. “One lesson with it down and I got ink all over!”

“There must be ways to, uh, manage it? Other girls have their hair down.”

“I’m sure there is, but I don’t know how. It’s easier to just tie it up and go, you know?”

Remus laughs. “Go, you know,” he repeats.

“Shut up!” you laugh, finally looking at him with a smile on your face.

At this point, you could blame your flushed face on the wind. You’d be lying if you didn’t think he looked cute with his own rosy cheeks. He’s already looking at you, but what did you expect? He had been looking at you all day.

“I suppose it also,” he starts, reaching with his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “shows off your pretty face.”

With how much your blush deepened, you couldn’t blame it on the wind. You look down at your feet, away from his sweet gaze. He couldn’t help but smile wider. You were adorable and the affectionate words just slipped out. You walk for a bit longer in silence.

As you cross the short bridge into Hogsmeade, he asks, “Which store are we going to? Can’t say I buy a lot of hair ties…”

“Sirius doesn’t drag you along?”

“Believe it or not, no.”

You hum. “Well, I usually go to the Knicks and Knacks. They have the ties, and then I like to walk the aisles.”

“Then we’ll go there, yeah? I don’t mind, uh, walking the aisles if you want to.”

“Okay,” you say with a nod. “It’s this way.”

You lead him to the shop and a bell jingles as you open the door. The shop smells of cleaning products. You drop Remus’ arm. You head for the aisle you know has the hair ties. You weren’t going to risk walking around only to forget the one thing you actually came here for, and you would do that so you actively work against your fickle memory. You select two packs, one of plain black ties, like the one you borrowed from Sirius, and one of patterned ones. Remus joins you with a basket and he grabs them from your hands to toss into said basket.

“I could’ve carried them,” you tease.

“But I have a basket!”

“Are you going shopping?”

He shrugs. “Never know what you’ll find.”

You shake your head and start to walk down the aisle away from him. It was wandering time. You didn’t need anything else, but it was nice to look. Part of you felt guilty for keeping Remus in Hogsmeade longer than he probably intended, but he didn’t say anything. He meandered the aisles a few paces behind you. You saw him toss some things into the basket, but you weren’t paying attention enough to see what exactly he had grabbed. You stop to look at the stand of makeup. You didn’t wear much; your mum always said you were at Hogwarts to study and you agreed. But a tube of mascara couldn’t hurt. You pick one out and turn to find Remus. As soon as you walk up to him, he takes the tube from your hand and puts it in the basket.

“That all?” he asks.

“I think so. Sorry for taking so long.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

He turns toward the cashier and starts unloading the basket. You stand just slightly behind him, pulling out your coin purse.

“Two galleons,” the cashier says.

You open your purse to get the coins, but Remus is already handing the man the gold coins.

“Remus!” you gasp.

“My treat,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you.

He has a sly smile on his face that makes the blush return to your cheeks. The man hands a bag to Remus with his purchase and you exit the store together.

“What did you all get?” you ask, reaching for the bag but he holds it out of your reach. “Come on, I know hair ties and some makeup don’t add up to two galleons.”

“You’d be correct. And I’ll tell you if you’ll tolerate a butterbeer with me?”

You stop in your tracks. That was unexpected. Didn’t he have homework to get back to? You had finished yours for the night, but maybe he hadn’t. Weren’t his friends waiting on him? They had seen you return the hair tie to him at dinner. You didn’t know if he had told them where he was going after dinner.

“Oh, um, yeah. If you don’t have to get back to the castle. A butterbeer would be nice.”

His face lights up. He hooks his arm through yours, as you had been on your walk to Hogsmeade, and leads you to the Three Broomsticks. Even without the herds of students who flock to the pub on the weekends, it’s warm and packed inside. Remus guides you over to an empty table. Madam Rosmerta is quick to bring over two mugs of butterbeer. You love how she doesn’t bother asking if you want anything else; she just knows her customer base. Hogwarts students want butterbeer.

“I suppose I should’ve asked if you needed to get back to the castle,” Remus says as he reaches for the mug in front of him.

“It’s alright. I’m in no rush.” You offer him a smile. “I made sure to finish my homework before I had to give the hair tie back.”

“Is now a bad time to tell you that Sirius said you could keep it?”

He sheepishly takes a sip as he watches your reaction. You laugh, which relaxes him.

“I would’ve needed more anyways. A girl cannot survive with a singular hair tie.”

“So you need two then.”

“Did you not just buy two packs for me? Hair ties need to come in the dozen.”

He hums. “Well, obviously, I don’t have expertise in hair ties. That’s more your domain. And Sirius.”

“What would you say your domain is?”

Human to animal transfigurations is the first thing that goes through his mind and what he would’ve said to the Marauders.

“Prank logistics?”

You laugh. “Yeah? You’re the secret to the Marauders’ success?”

“I can’t take all the credit. We all do our part.”

“And you all get the detention.”

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but-”

Your continued laughter cuts him off. You don’t know why he’s trying to defend himself, or what he’s trying to defend, really. It was a fact that they earned their fair amount of detentions for their extracurriculars.

“Do you, uh, like our pranks?”

“The ones that aren’t cruel,” you say with a nod. “I must say, I’m glad I haven’t been on the receiving end yet.”

“Yet?”

“Oh, I just assume it’s a matter of time. Doesn’t everyone end up a target at one point or another?”

Remus appears to ponder that for a moment.

“Certain people are off limits.”

“Yeah? What earns ‘em that privilege?”

“Either the potential consequence or they are of… importance to one of us.”

You take in that answer. You don’t think that pranking you would have a horrible consequence. You’d take it in stride as best as you could, depending on what it is. You could assume what being “of importance” meant, but you weren’t totally sure that was what he was implying.

“Anyone on that list?”

“Professor Boubble, Professor McCraugh, Lily Evans, Peter’s sisters,” Remus lists off.

He left off one name, unsure how you’d take it. You seem intrigued by the names he lists off, or rather, the names he didn’t say.

“You’d prank McGonagall? Dumbledore?”

“Please! They’d love it!” he laughs. “They’d take away points and give detention, but they’d love it.”

“Do you guys have anything in the works?”

“Always. James and Sirius are just endless ideas.”

“Are you able to talk about it? Or are you sworn to secrecy?”

“Alas, secrecy is the secret to success,” he says with a wink.

“I won’t tell! I promise!”

He shakes his head before taking a sip of butterbeer.

“Sorry, love. I like you but my lips are sealed.”

I like you.

“Ah, it was worth a try.”

The conversation drifts away from pranks to assignments for classes and your differing electives to which candies are your favorite and what the last book you read was. You both finish your mugs, which are quickly replaced with fresh glasses by Rosmerta. After you finish those mugs, you decide it’s time to head back. Your easy conversation lasts all the way from the Three Broomsticks to the doors of Hogwarts.

“Uh, before you go, can I ask something?” Remus asks, nervously fiddling with the bottom of his jumper.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Was, um, was that a date?”

His face burns red, embarrassed with the question. You bite your lip as you look up at him.

“If you want it to be.” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You had been wondering the same thing since he paid for your butterbeers too.

He holds out the bag from Knick and Knack, having held onto it the entire evening.

“Yeah, I’d like it to be,” he says softly.

You go up onto your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Then it was. Good night Remus, and thank you for the hair ties. All of them.”

@c0ldstvff - this for you ❤️

#marauders fic #marauders #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #marauder-misprint #remus x you #remus x reader

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cheyisagirlkisser · 14 hours ago

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Hello I was wondering if you could do Jackson ellie x bestfreind reader and like they have had a crush on eachother for a while and have a sleepover where they smoke or drink maybe or play some type of game like truth or dare and find out they like eachother and get kinda freaky idk. Thank you!

EEE I am so excited for this one watch me cook on this request. This is a rlly good request and I wanna write something just as good!! Also I want to recommend you an ao3 fic with this EXACT plot it's tagged here actually my favorite Ellie fic ever.

Content: 4k words, bestfriend reader, Jackson setting, pent-up feelings, nipple-play (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), tribbing, Ellie puts a finger into your mouth how fun!, a lot of dialogue before the actual sex sorry but I loved writing Ellie to be funny, reader likes pink a lot (couldn't help myself) and is afab, reader and Ellie 18+, NOT PROOFREAD LMAO

You're far from safe from liking people you shouldn't like.

That doesn't even cover the multitude of feelings! Like doesn't cover it. You're pretty sure you love Ellie.

Maybe in another lifetime, you and Ellie could've met and went on a date. You could've loved her freely. In this universe, she is your childhood best friend.

You know it could ruin the best thing that has ever happened to you if you tell her, or if she finds out in some way, but fuck; when she looks at you, it's like you forget how to breathe. You just wanna breathe her in, you want to share the same air and feel her lips on yours.

Ellie is unlike anyone you've ever known. She's sweet for you. She's impulsive to others, and honestly sometimes an asshole. That only makes you fall more and more in love for her. You didn't know it was possible to be attracted to someone's flaws, but you want every piece of her, even the bits that others in Jackson label as "annoying."

Ellie has always been there for you since you were just 15 and she moved to Jackson right by Joel's side. You just seemed to click. She was brash, foul-mouthed, and told ironically funny dad jokes. You were the type of person who liked having adventures and never shut up. Ellie always listened. She held you while you cried, let you borrow her book of puns, and volunteered to do patrols with you just so she could have fun adventures with you.

You couldn't ruin a good thing. You don't know what you would even do without Ellie in your life. You didn't wanna freak her out or make things weird. You feel like such a coward, but even thinking about Ellie distancing herself from you because of your stupid crush on her? It just makes your stomach churn with dread.

Little did you know Ellie was equally obsessed with you.

You're like a fucking ball of sunshine to the girl, always there laughing at the stupid things she says, defending her when she gets in trouble for something minor, and your smile should be considered warfare for how easily it could kill her. She tries to keep her feelings to herself, but it is so hard to when you look at her with bright eyes and the sweetest smile like you're trying to give her a toothache.

It's a recipe for a bomb, and it only takes one game to set it off.

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You're sitting criss-cross on your bed and Ellie is in your floor. It's a Saturday, which means both of you get to have a sleepover. No patrol, and no major chores to be done around Jackson.

Ellie just got back from a multiple day lasting patrol and she missed you so much while she was gone, it's not even funny. Seattle is beautiful, but boring when there isn't a sunshine girl in awe about how the verdure clings to the buildings. But at least now she is here, back in your bedroom which she loves so much.

Ellie's room is vastly different from yours. Well, her garage is. Her bedsheets are grey and minimalistic, and her make-shift kitchen is lined with posters. Her favorite is the one with the punk green-haired man holding a guitar. Her closet, however, it quite impressive. Her shelves are lined with comics and space movies, and her hangers are lined with flannels, of course.

Your bedroom, in contrast, has white bedsheets and a cozy pink blanket. You have a few raggedy plushies from scavenging around and your shelves are filled with lighter-colored clothing. White curtains decorate your windows and frilly pillowcases (that end up in the floor most of the time) compliment your bed. You have a full-length mirror in the corner of your room and a shelf of DVDs you usually just bring over to Ellie's garage, since she has a much nicer tv than you do. Ellie glances up at you from the floor, squiggling her eyebrows.

"I'm so fucking bored!" You groan, making Ellie laugh in the process.

"And how is that my problem?"

You flip her off and she clutches her stomach.

"Seriously, Ellie. I wanna actually do something and not just eat grilled cheeses and read your nerdy comics."

She scoffs.

"Excuse me? It's not my fault you have bad taste in literature."

You snort at that. "Starlight Savage and Raven Mouse are not literature."

"Oh, then what are they, huh?" She stands up, amusingly offended.

"Comics!"

Ellie grabs one of your pillows and pretends to suffocate you with it. You're laughing and trying to pry it off of your face.

"Hey, quit! You're actually gonna kill me!" You giggle, your voice muffled from the cushioning.

Ellie finally relents, laughing along with you.

"Better think twice before disrespecting Starlight Savage." She is wearing her signature shit-eating grin.

"Oh, whatever.. Hey!- You got me off topic." You groaned.

Ellie laughs at that. "And what was the topic?"

"I am bored out of my fucking mind," you complain, your voice rising in pitch to sound whiny, which she pretends to absolutely hate.

Really, she just hates that it makes her stomach clench when she hears your cute complains, and the tone of your whines only makes it worse.

"Okay, okay, fine. We can do something fun." She feigns reluctance, setting down on the bed beside you.

"Great!! So, what should we do?"

"Seriously? You don't even know what you wanna do and you gave me whiplash bitching about being bored?"

You scoff, jumping to your own defense. "I was tryin' to get you to come up with something," and then you add to complete your argument, "I wouldn't be bored if I knew what we could do."

Ellie sighs, and you smile because you know that means she has had enough of your bullshit and she just wants to throw in the towel.

"Fine. Well, we can play a game perhaps?"

You groan in protest at the suggestion. "You're a dirty cheater when it comes to Monopoly!"

Ellie only lets out a sheepish laugh at that, because she knows that you're being 100% truthful. "That is what makes the game fun!" When she sees your glare, she sighs once more. "Fine. How 'bout Truth or Dare?"

That sounds intriguing; the game begins.

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You and Ellie sit across from each other, and the game has been going on for around 10 minutes now. It's getting quite boring - always questions like "What's a secret you haven't told me?" or Ellie dares you to do something she knows you won't do, like lick the toilet bowl.

Then, she asks a question that brings the game onto another level.

"What's your favorite sex position?"

You stare at her, your jaw practically in your lap. You don't wanna talk sex positions with the girl you secretly wanna do sex positions with.

"What the fuck, Ellie?!"

She looks a bit guilty, but shrugs with a smirk that doesn't go unnoticed.

"What? I wanted to spice things up. C'mon, don't be a pussy."

You think it over, but finally, with a heated face, you say fuck it and give into her bullshit. "Missionary."

Ellie bursts out laughing.

You're sitting there not knowing what to do! She is laughing like a hyena at this point, tears in the corners of her eyes. She slaps her knee. What the fuck?!

"What's so funny?!"

Ellie just laughs, falling over and she is snorting like a pig now before she finally settles down. "It's just.." she tries to stifle a giggle, "that is the most boring thing you could've possibly said.”

You know that, but you're keen on defending your word. Ellie loves that about you, how you're always quick to stand up for yourself. "It's romantic!"

"Okay, okay," she shrugs. "Enlighten me on how missionary is more romantic than any other position that actually feels good."

You don't hesitate to list off the facts. "First of all, it does feel good! You just haven't tried the pillow method. Second of all, you can kiss your partner and actually talk to them." You sigh, getting a bit flustered (and turned on) by the conversation at hand. "Imagine fucking someone and getting to kiss all over their face while doing so, or on their neck or their tits. It's about the intimacy."

Ellie looks just as flustered as you now. She is silent for a moment before giving you the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, I guess you can rest your case now. But there is much more intimate positions than missionary, you know. You're just thinking vanilla ones like riding the strap-on, or from behind."

You raise an eyebrow at that. "Okay, I'll bite. What's more intimate than looking into someone's eyes while they cum?"

Ellie laughs at your vulgar question, pink tinting her freckled cheeks. "Tribbing." Her voice is more quiet, and that only makes you more aware of the slight tension.

You quickly brush it off with a laugh.

"Of course your gay ass would say that."

She grins and sits up at that, quick to defend herself. "Hey, you have no room to be talking, little miss 'my gay awakening is Rose from Titanic.'"

Your jaw drops and you look at her like she has said something crazy. "Hey, Rose is hot!"

She giggles. "Yeah, Sherlock, thanks for pointing out the obvious."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, okay. Can we get back to the game?"

She nods, and it continues.

As time passes, the questions grow more and more...uncomfortable to answer. You're still asking her the more casual things, but Ellie is daring you to do stupid, impossible stuff, or to answer questions like "what was your first time like?", "do you have a friends with benefits situation with anyone in Jackson?", and "if you could kiss anyone in Jackson, who would it be?" (which you brushed off jokingly by saying old man Eugene. She didn't press any further, only mocking you).

Then, she leans forward after you choose truth, and she whispers something you can't really brush off.

"Who do you like?"

You're fucked. If she asked "do you like someone?", you could answer without revealing who it is. She knows she has you trapped. Sneaky cunt.

You don't answer right away. Ellie is so close, your knees touching. The air in the room is insanely hot, and you want to leave your own house, you want to hide under your blankets or cover your face, but you can't.

Ellie doesn't wait for you to answer.

"I know you like someone, I can tell when my best friend is in love. Who is it?"

"That's way too personal, I.."

She scoffs, but it's not a rude sound. Just shocked, maybe slightly hurt. "You have always told me your crushes. Why won't you tell me now?"

You feel guilty now because she doesn't understand. She doesn't get why you won't tell her. She can't understand that it's because you like her. You want to scream it: I'm in love with you, Ellie! But those words won't be the next you utter.

"I just...I feel like this time it should be private." You know that your reasoning is weak, for once in your life, the defense is slipping and it's ugly. You internally wince.

She just stares in silence, not really meeting your eyes. It makes you panic, and then, then the words slip from your mouth seeing the hurt on Ellie's pretty face.

"It's you."

She stares at you like she didn't quite hear what you said, even though it was shaky, nevertheless loud and coherent.

"What...?"

"I..I'm in love with you, Ellie." You repeat yourself.

She leans into you. "Fuck.." Her breath hitches. "You better not be fucking around with me, I swear to-"

"No!", you shout loudly and quickly try to compose yourself. "I mean..I'm not joking. I like you. I hope this doesn't fuck with our friendship, or like.." You trail off, not wanting to think about what could happen now.

"I'm in love with you, too." There, now Ellie has gotten it out too.

Ellie didn't even fully understand why she asked you that. She knew she could've gotten her feelings hurt, that you could've liked someone else or that it would definitely mean you did like her, and then she had to be vulnerable and confess it back. Still, she was so exhausted, so fucking tired of pretending like hugs and casual touches were enough. They were never enough.

"Can I kiss you?" She doesn't even give you the proper time to react to her shared confession before she springs that onto you. You don't complain, only nodding quickly.

Her breath is warm against yours, and you can tell how shaky it is. You've never seen her so nervous, it makes your own stomach flutter with butterflies. Then, Ellie's grasping onto your face and smashing her lips against yours. Her mouth is warm, and the kiss doesn't even start out gentle. It's all devouring, all need and passon.

You quickly move into her lap, thighs on either sides of hers, and both of you are desperately pulling each other closer, finally sharing the same air. She tastes like everything natural, something so unique it can't be described but you immediately know you need more of it. Her tongue moves inside of your mouth, devouring you just like how she has been dreaming of for who knows how long, and when you're forced to pull away for a breath, her lips are sloppily trailing down your jaw to your throat, her hands grasping your hips to pull you closer.

"I've wanted you for so long, you know that?" Her voice is warm against your sensitive skin, and you think you could just burst with how it feels to be practically intertwined with her.

"Show me how it feels, Els.." You gasp and tilt your head back for more, but Ellie pulls away to look at you.

"How what feels?' She doesn't sound rude, only confused with her lips swollen and wet.

"The intimacy..the intimacy you talked about.." Oh, that.

She nods quickly, and her mouth is all over your shoulders, leaving soft pecks between words, "We can do that, but I wanna do something first..is that okay?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

With that, she pulls your shirt over your head and stares at you like she has never seen a pair of boobs before. Her eyes are wide and she takes you in before her.

"You're so pretty," she mumbles with conviction, kneading your tits through your bra. You can only moan when she sticks a hand into your bra and rubs her palm over your nipples, her other hand deftly undoing the clasp of the fabric.

That was the hottest thing you could do for a woman, Williams..

Her lips quickly find a nipple, pulling it into her mouth to swirl her tongue around the bud. Your fingers tug at her hair, begging for more. You need her closer. She reluctantly pulls her mouth off off of its new favorite place and leans back up to face you, planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek before smiling sheepishly.

"I'm gonna say something I want to do to you, but you can't laugh.."

That makes you already giggle, despite the heat building between your thighs. That is something you love about Ellie, the way she can make you laugh even when you aren't supposed to be.

"I'll try my best. What is it?" You ask, and she fiddles with her fingers nervously.

"I wanna use my fingers on you," she says it so quietly, voice nervous but filled with hunger before she quickly adds, "if you want me to. It's okay if you don't wanna go any further-"

"I want you to finger me, Els."

That was easier than she thought it would be.

She nods now, slowly unbuttoning your jeans and watching with an intense gaze as you hop off of her lap to shimmy them off. Now you're in nothing but a cotton pair of panties and you look so gorgeous.

Ellie has always found you to be beautiful. During patrols and on lookout, your hair had a shine to it that most people wouldn't care to think too much about, but Ellie always noticed it. Ellie always noticed the way your lips parted when you were zoned out, or how you walked like you always knew where you were going even on the paths that were mainly uncharted. You were so lovely-looking.

Now, nearly naked for her, she doesn't know if she can bare to blink even for a second. She is currently having a never-ending starting contest with your body, and she has to stop herself from pouncing on you. She wants to love you, not just fuck you.

Ellie is on her knees between your legs, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your underwear. Her eyes flicker over your body before looking to yours for confirmation.

"You sure you want this?"

"Please, Ellie. I want you." You know you sound desperate for her, but it can't be helped. You were soaked through your underwear, clit beating with need, and Ellie is just eyeing you like she wanted to devour you. She probably would, but she wants to save your clit for later.

She nods and slips your underwear down your legs, pulling them off of your ankles and throwing them behind her. The action made you giggle, but Ellie quickly squashed your outburst.

"Somethin' funny?" She asks, slipping a finger through your slick folds. You gasp and jolt.

"Hey, where the fuck is the warning, you cunt?"

She has to stifle her own laugh at your outburst, but she is growing tired of the cute giggles; if you laughed one more time, she'd be fucking you until you were limping-

"Sorry, pretty. I'm gettin' impatient." Her tone mkes you involuntarily clench. You rarely hear that tone, the serious one when she is either around someone she doesn't know and is keeping it professional or just not in the mood to joke. Now, you discover it's her horny tone, too.

You nod, tilting your head back to rest it on your frilly pillow. Finally, she slips two digits past your lips and you resist the urge to let a whorish whine slip past your lips. When she easily slides into your heat, you then can't resist.

Ellie's eyes are glued to your pussy like it's magic, watching your hips try to rise for more, feeling the way your walls tighten around her intrusion.

It's too much for her poor, fucked head to bare.

She is already as wrecked as you are. She wants to taunt you for the way you already look like you're going to cum from her barely brushing at your spongey g-spot, but she can't. She is probably in rougher shape right now.

"You feel so warm." It's all she can manage to get out, and she curls her fingers inside of you into upward, making you moan.

"I wanna cum, Els..please, more. Give me more." Ellie has never seen you this dumb for pleasure before, but who is she to deny you?

Her fingers aren't thrusting in and out or finger-banging you, just slowly sliding through your cunt, her fingertips stroking where you need them to. You feel so full, so complete. You hope she does this every single day from here on out.

It doesn't take long to get you into a state of complete bliss, and you haven't even climaxed yet. Your legs aren't clamping down, rather spreading wider as if you're begging for her to take you in the most obscene ways possible, fill you up with more than just her fingers. If only she you two were currently at her house, she has that unopened strap-on box... maybe for another day.

The knot that builds in your stomach, the temperature of it overheating your insides is about to snap. You're begging as if Ellie is teasing you or something. You're whining, and you look like you're about to start sobbing if she pauses her pace even for a nanosecond. She just wants to gives you everything, thinks you deserve the whole world, so she leans forward and intertwines her fingers with yours as her other fingers pump deep inside you, and you swear it's rearranging your guts. You wanna be wrecked so damn badly.

"You keep fluttering around me, gonna cum?" She asks, and you whine and nod.

Your orgasm soon hits you like a tsunami, once in a crash and then it simmers throughout you in waves. This is probably the hardest you have ever came. You gasp onto her hand tight, squeezing her fingers. You can't even speak or you'd be howling her name. It feels so euphoric and you wonder how it can get any better than this.

When you come down from the peak, she eases her fingers out of your tender insides and licks her ring finger clean. Then, she settles her hips between your legs, bringing her soaking middle finger to your lips.

"Open up."

You do so without question, tasting yourself on her digit before she swiftly pulls her finger away with a "pop!"

"I taste weird," you mumble and she rolls her eyes, mumbling a little "fuck you" before sitting up to strip out of her flannel.

You feel maybe a little nervous before. Something about the thought of feeling her in such an intimate way makes you feel even more fluttery inside. You've been with women before, you are far from a virgin, but you've never clashed clits before (omfg what). Most girls thought it was just a porn thing.

"You okay?" Ellie pauses, her flannel on the bed and a black t-shirt layer underneath it.

"Yeah," you mean it, "just a little nervous."

Her eyes soften, and she takes your hand and squeezes it. "I promise I'll be slow with you. I'm not gonna rush you into this, and if you want, we can always stop."

You feel more assured now, and you smile. "Okay."

When she finally strips out of her clothing, you take her in. She is breath-takingly beautiful. Her body is pale but covered in tan freckles, and her nipples are perky with arousal. Her shoulders and collarbone look so fucking kissable. You're still in a daze as she hooks a leg over yours, her warm cunt only an inch or two away from yours. She hovers.

"You ready?"

"I want you, so yes."

That makes her smile, and she slowly eases down onto you, her folds rubbing up against yours and both of your neglected clits finally getting the attention they deserve. Both of you are already moaning and Ellie leans down onto you, her tits brushing against yours as she kisses you deeply.

This kiss is slower than the first, less desperate but just as emotional. It's hungry and consumes you in a sensual way. Her hips grind against yours, her slick mixing with your soaked pussy to make you only whine into her mouth.

Now you understand how intimate this is. You feel so connected to Ellie in a way you hope you never get to feel with anyone else. You wanna always be this close. You think that even after this ends, you'll feel that tie to her body and heart, always leading you back to her.

When you both cum together, it's much different than what she gave you before. You can feel her tense up with you, hear her shaky breaths and moans, and you feel a warmth inside of you reminding you that she feels this way because of your pussy, because of her feelings for you. It's making you obsessive to feel this way.

When the high fades, she collapses on top you. You're both breathing heavily for a few minutes. Her breath is against your neck and it feels like a kiss. Your brain is thinking of something stupid now that the horniness is over.

"Isn't it obvious that I'm your girlfriend now?"

Ellie laughs and squeezes you tightly.

"Yeah. You're my girlfriend now, and I'm not letting you go."

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄

#tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #the last of us part 2 #cheyisagirlkissermailbox #requests

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queenmelancholy · 55 minutes ago

Note

Thanks for all the comments!! @professorcalculusstanaccount @nuttypizzabluebird373 You guys really got me interested as a Hongkonger, so I think I’d just throw in my two cents’ worth XD

Regarding where the Wang family lived and how it impacted Chang’s character, I’ve read on Tintin wiki that Mr Wang was involved in fighting the Japanese in the Mukden incident, but the bombing that triggered it happened near Shanghai in the comic (while in reality it was in Shenyang), which just showed Hergé’s intention to depict Chang as someone based around the area of Shanghai - maybe not that far north, just to stick to his real life friend’s background, and to increase the chance of Chang interacting with foreign people later on in the story (not to say that he wouldn’t have been an open-minded person if he had grown up in the north, but to make a starker contrast with his biological family).

So, apart from speculating that Chang’s biological family was in Jiangsu, when it comes to the parallel timelines, I am thinking maybe in The Blue Lotus (1930s) the Wang family was indeed in Shanghai, and only in Tintin in Tibet (1950s) had they relocated to HK considering how the political landscape had changed over the two decades.

The ‘open-port’ (開埠) of HK and Shanghai happened in 1841 and 1843 respectively because of colonisations after the first opium war. Business activities thrived in both cities, but before the communist regime (since 1949) it was Shanghai that was more prosperous (and where the Chinese had more actual power, whilst HK’s capital was basically controlled by the British in the early days), so it was reasonable that the affluent Wangs lived in Shanghai.

1930s Shanghai

As discussed, in 1950s the ‘class struggle’ under the new communist government led to land reform activities including dou dizhu (fighting against the landlords) which was quite violent and millions of people died (estimated). This was something that Hergé wouldn’t have foreseen. And Shanghai was no longer colonised since 1943 so it was also affected by the political turbulence, which left HK (British colony until 1997) and Macau (Portuguese colony until 1999) the only cities not under communist rule (also Taiwan was under KMT’s rule but it’s more complicated). Many people, rich or not, chose to settle in HK (because apparently the British was doing a slightly better job at ruling lol) and perhaps it was what the fictional Wang family did as well. They probably couldn’t have maintained their living standards at the start but it would soon become better if they knew how to invest their money because opportunities were everywhere. Furthermore, some people just used HK as a springboard to go to the west, like Chang’s adoptive uncle who went to London to open an antique shop. And perhaps, Chang himself in the end, too.

1950s Hong Kong

So there you have it! I’d say that the characterisation of Chang was quite consistent if you consider whichever city he’s lived in was the most culturally diverse place in China at that particular time.

Again, I was only here because my mutual @acewithobsessions very kindly entrusted me to help with the Chinese names. But this post has got so wild that I must take it more seriously. I’m not a history expert nor someone familiar with Tintin, so I apologise if there’s any mistake. And thank you all for reading my nonsense.

More on HK’s colonial history around 1940s-1950s: Grantham, A., & Lord Wilson of Tillyorn. (2012). Via Ports: From Hong Kong to Hong Kong. Hong Kong University Press. Written by Sir Alexander Grantham, governor of HK (1947-1957), first published in 1965.

I'm boggled. This isn't the same thing as in the letter, is it?

Thank you so much for the ask!! Good job on spotting the difference!

Posting the letter again for reference:

So you're right, on the rock it reads 張仲仁 (Cheung Chong Yan in standard cantonese romanisation), while on the envelope the name is 張仲文 (Cheung Chong Man). Hergé’s real life Chinese friend is 張充仁 (Cheung Chong Yan), so the romanisation would be the same as the name in your ask.

HOWEVER, those are just romanisations (which are less accurate but easier for foreigners to pronounce). Their actual pronunciations in cantonese (spoken in Hong Kong) / mandarin (spoken in mainland China including Shanghai) are different:

張充仁 = Tcheung Chong Yun* / Zhang Chongren

張仲文 = Tcheung Tchong Mun / Zhang Zhongwen

張仲仁 = Tcheung Tchong Yun / Zhang Zhongren

* 'Tch-' is similar to J sound; '-ong' is OW-ng; '-un' as in under

As you can see, there’s a bit of a mix and match. But I think it makes sense to change the first word in his given name into 仲 given that the story says Chang is from HK, because we seldom use 充 in our names (perhaps more common in mainland China, not 100% sure).

Another fun fact for you on the meanings of those given names~

充 = full of

仲 = still be (only in cantonese)

仁 = love for all beings/ benevolence

文 = cultured/ gentle

Both 仁 and 文 are commonly used here across different generations and genders. So I think both translations are pretty nice!!

Also, I just spotted that the stamps in the top right corner are of Queen Elizabeth II and King George VI:

Not so good at maintaining consistency but good attention to detail, I must say :)

#tintin #chang #asks #I really made the right choice to study science instead of history in school lol #still hope this helps

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s4bbatical · 2 days ago

Text

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 3. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

Part 1. Part 2. Warnings: profanities, consumption of alcohol and cigarette use. hints of sex! age gap (reader!22) enjoy!

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

You're at your desk when you hear the news, the entire office in commotion as Cameron, Tony and Declan appear after the wrap of Declan's newest episode.

"Rupert said yes?" You gasp, smacking Seb's arm. "Fucking brilliant, man." You say, grinning. "Declan's gonna take a chunk out of his neck, it's gonna be grand." You look over at Declan, who's clinking glasses with Tony in his office.

"I'm just grateful our efforts aren't going to waste. Christ knows how much time we put into this sleazy bastard." Seb grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Why you look so down on yourself Seb?" You ask, standing up straight from your previous position of leaning against the oak desk.

"I don't know, y/n. Maybe you can figure that out yourself." He says bluntly, walking away towards the common space.

Your jaw drops slightly, throwing your arms up. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself, grabbing the back of your neck. You had been turning down Seb's advances on you due to your clandestine actions with Declan, not realizing how much of an impact it really had on the ginger. You knew he liked you a little more than just friends, you just hoped he'd let go of it sooner than later.

As far as you were concerned, still no one knew about you and Declan. You tried to stay focused on your work and not overthink it much, although it was on your mind every minute of your waking hours. Not telling anyone, especially your new best friend Taggie, was taking a toll on you. How does one tell another that they find their dad very attractive, and also have been banging him in his office after hours? It wasn't an easy feat for anyone. You tried to remind yourself that it was okay to have a little fun, as long as no one else knew about it.

You jump slightly as you notice Declan standing by your desk, straightening out your blazer as you nod towards him. "Declan, hi. Congratulations on securing the interview with Rupert." You say, giving him a smile.

"Thanks, y/n. You've been a great help with it all, I wouldn't be as confident as I am without you." He says, a smirk growing on his face. "Would you mind doing overtime on Saturday? To help me with additional flawed research?" He asks, now properly smiling.

"Ah, I would, but your daughter has asked me to accompany her in catering for Baddingham's falconery that day. I'm sorry." You admit, shrugging.

"That's alright. Will you be coming to our home for dinner afterwards, then?" He asks.

You grin, tapping your chin in thought satirically. "Yeah, I guess so." You say, letting out a small laugh.

"Great, see you then." He says, a light tap on your bottom as he walks away.

You gasp lightly, looking around hastily to ensure no one saw. "Unbelievable." You whisper to yourself, sitting down at your desk.

As Saturday rolls around, you find yourself bright and early at The Priory, attempting to hold back your yawns as you prepare cheese and fruit platters with Taggie.

"Can I ask you something?" Taggie asks, rinsing a bowl of grapes.

"Course, yeah. What's up?" You say, slicing wedges of brie.

"Do you think my dad should go through with interviewing Rupert?" She inquires timidly, putting the bowl of grapes on the kitchen table.

"Rupert is an asshole. He deserves anything that is thrown at him." You say bitterly out of respect for your friend, and her father.

"Y/n, I don't think he should go through with it." Taggie says, meeting your eyes. "I'm afraid my father will ruin him." She whispers, frowning.

"Taggie," You start, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Where is this coming from?" You ask, worried about her concerns.

"I think Rupert isn't as horrible as everyone thinks he is. He sincerely apologized to me, and I can tell he wasn't just doing it out of spite for me or my father." She explains, sighing. "After you left before the party ended, we slow danced together and..." She trails off, seeming upset with herself. "We shouldn't've, I know. But there's something about him that isn't worth destroying him over." She finishes.

You furrow your brows and purse your lips. "I'm not the one to call the shots on this, Tags. You know that." You say.

"My father listens to you better than me, for some reason." She says, causing your breath to go still. "I don't know why, but I would like for you to try saying something." She pleas. "For me, y/n. Please."

You let out a deep sigh, letting go of your breath. "Fine, I will. Don't get mad if he goes through with it, though." You mumble, reorganizing the assembly of cheeses.

"Thank you." Taggie smiles, giving you a side hug.

"Course." You whisper, it was the least you could do considering what secrets you've withheld from her already.

"Taggie!" Declan yells, entering the kitchen. He is taken aback by our presence, perhaps not expecting you so early in the morning. "Y/n, hello." He smiles. "Have you seen my plaid shirt your mum put out to dry?" He asks his daughter.

"I folded it up in your dresser, dad." Taggie says, causing Declan to nod.

"Right, course. Thank you darling." He places a kiss on her head, secretly gliding his fingers across your lower back as he steps away. "See you girls later." He says, waving as he exits the kitchen.

"Why'd you look at my dad like that?" She queries, nudging you.

"Like what?" You say defensively.

"Like he was a piece of meat." She says, scoffing.

"Your dad's hot, that's not my fault. It's not like I'm doing anything." You exclaim, raising your hands.

"Good, you better not." She says jokingly, grinning at the banter between the two of you.

You laugh, trying to not frown at your inner thoughts.

Only if you knew, Taggie. Only if.

Declan is in the office, going through evidence against Rupert as he notices Charles Fairburn reorganizing his office. "Charles!" He says out of surprise.

"Oh, hello." Charles says. "I didn't expect to see anybody."

"I'm researching Campbell-Black and needed something from my office." He says, approaching Fairburn.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Tony Baddingham had Declan O'Hara doing his dirty work." The road of Baddingham's distaste for Campbell-Black is a long one, and quite complicated enough even for you to even know about.

"I have my own reasons for wanting to take that bastard down." Declan interjects.

"You know, in different circumstances, you and Rupert could've been friends." Charles says simply. "Both complicated, both stubborn, misunderstood." He jests, putting down office supplies on his new desk.

"Bollocks." Declan states. "What are you doing in on a Saturday?" He queries.

Charles clicks his tongue, "Moving offices ahead of my grand return." He says, now holding a clipboard. "Apparently, my recent coronary episode makes me a medical liability." He says, referring to the panic attack that happened on New Years. "Which is why Cameron Cook is now controller of programmes and I'm--"

"Head of Religious Broadcasting." Declan says, reading the new plaque on the door underneath Charles' name. He looks back and gives him a look of sympathy.

Charles scoffs. "I can't begrudge her too much. Climbing the greasy pole requires its own set of skills." He mumbles, sitting down. "Especially when the greasy pole in question, lives in Tony Baddingham's trousers." He says sarcastically. A moment of silence passes by.

"How's the heart?" Declan asks, redirecting the conversation.

Charles sighs. "Oh, you know, broken." He goes quiet for a moment. "How's the new journalist, Declan?" He asks, watching as Declan's face contorts into bewilderment.

"What'd you mean by that?" He asks, attempting to act confused by Fairburn's statement. Heat rose to his face as his heart began to race.

Charles gives him a weak smile before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what I saw at the New Year's Eve party. I was out in the garden and wasn't expecting to see you, especially with y/n." He says quietly, Declan staying dead silent. Fuck.

"I'm not telling anyone." Charles adds, seeing the worry in O'Hara's face. "Don't show Tony any weakness, Declan." He abruptly says. "Or this is what you get." He whispers sadly, referring to his new demoted office space.

Declan looks down for a moment, unable to find words as he slowly walks away. He looks back again at Charles Fairburn before he returns to his office, closing the door and running a hand through his dark curls.

Charles knew of Declan's dirty secret, but regardless of what assurance he is given, he has to keep it completely under wraps now. He has to be careful, and so do you.

He notices a folder on his desk, opening it to reveal a note from the sender mentioning of a phone call regarding Rupert Campbell-Black accompanied by a photo. He grins, his worries dissipating as more evidence has landed in his lap. He folds it up tightly, enclosing it in a new envelope with a devilish grin.

You find yourself back at The Priory with Taggie later that afternoon, your stomach unwell from seeing all the dead birds that day.

"God, it's astounding how they manage to eat and drink so much while killing those innocent creatures." You say, taking a leftover ham sandwich and taking a bite out of it.

Declan enters the house, returning after his time at the office. "Ah, how was the shoot?"

"Well, they killed loads of birds," You say, swallowing your food.

"But they liked my food." Taggie finishes the sentence for you. Declan chuckles. "Rupert stopped by." She adds, crossing her arms.

You watch in bemusement as Declan reacts poorly. You take another bite of your sandwich.

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Is there no place free of that man?" He exclaims, walking away.

Taggie furrows her brows, looking over at you to do something.

You sigh, taking the last bite of your sandwich as you follow her father into the other room. "I'll talk to him." You mumble to Taggie as you pass her.

After quickening your pace, you follow him into the master bedroom, where he begins unloading his blazer. "You shouldn't be so harsh on Rupert, y'know." You begin to say, closing the door behind you.

"And what makes you think you have any say in that?" Declan replies with an edge in his voice, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

"Taggie's forgiven him, I think you can let it go-"

"Let it go?! Let go of the fact that he groped my daughter? That my own wife still wants to sleep with him even though he's a horrible fucking bastard?!" Declan yells, aggressively huffing on his cigarette.

"Look, I understand where you're coming from Declan, but this could backfire and then what happens to you, huh? What if he ends up burying you into the ground instead of the other way around?!" You try to explain, holding your place as Declan begins to undo his shirt, tossing it onto the bed. You stare at his torso as he breathes heavily in anger, his chest rising and falling. Time and place, time and place.

"He will not do any such thing." Declan mutters harshly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray atop his dresser. "You know that Charles Fairburn knows of us, huh?" He says, leaning against a bed post.

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his statement. "What? How?" You ask meekly, guilt mixed with fear rising up your throat from the pit of your stomach. "But no one saw us?" You whisper, beginning to pace back forth.

"Well he did." Declan states flatly. He grabs your arm and halts your movements. "He said he won't tell a soul, but this means we have to keep it controlled or this can no longer happen, y/n." He whispers firmly, staring into your eyes.

"I think I'd rather quit than stop whatever this is." You mumble, turning yourself completely towards Declan.

The two of you stare deeply at one another, Declan placing a hand on your cheek. "I need to control myself." He whispers, leaning in close enough to have his lips hover over yours.

"No one can see us now, Declan." You remind him.

The two of you come undone in multiple positions. You find yourself cuddled up beside Declan as he lights a cigarette, inhaling as he strokes your hair.

"Thanks for that, I needed a good fuck." You joke, closing your eyes as Declan hums.

"My pleasure." He grins, inhaling his cigarette once again.

"Wait, shit." You say, sitting up abruptly. Declan looks at you with confusion. "Taggie is still here, she must be concerned why it's taking so long." You say worriedly, getting out of the bed and retrieving your clothes.

Declan watches you with a smirk, his eyes trailing over your exposed body as you shimmy your underwear and jeans back on, following with your shirt.

You run over to Declan's side of the bed, pressing a firm kiss on his lips. "I'll see you for dinner, Mister O'Hara." You tease, smoothening your hair as you exit the grand master bedroom. He simply laughs, inhaling his cigarette.

You hurry down the hall, slowing down your pace as you look for Taggie.

"Tags?" You yell, eventually stumbling across Declan's study.

She had opened his file of evidence against Rupert, abruptly closing it when she hears you approach. "I-I was just looking through it, I'm sorry. Please don't tell my father." She says hastily, getting up from the desk chair.

"Taggie, relax. It's okay." You say, hoping nothing about your appearance gives away what you had been doing for the past half an hour. "I tried convincing him, I really did. He wouldn't budge, Tags." You admit, sighing. "Maybe you can warn Rupert, I don't know. I think your dad has more dirt on him than we know." You warn, running a hand through your hair.

"Maybe I should talk to him, then." Taggie says, beginning to walk past you.

"No-!" You say, grabbing her arm. She looks at you with confusion. "He seems exhausted, I think he needs to be left alone to be completely honest." You say, hoping Taggie would drop the whole thing for today.

"Alright, then." She says, your grasp loosening on her arm. "I'm gonna start making dinner, then. Care to help?" She asks, walking slowly out of the study.

"Always." You say with a smile, following Taggie out the door.

As the evening rolled around, you found yourself around the dining table with Taggie to your left, Maud and Caitlin on the other side as Declan sat at the head of the table.

"This food is incredible, Tag." Maud muses, taking another bite of the dish.

"It's y/n's recipe, actually." Taggie admits, smiling at you.

"Oh, y/n. Lovely job, then." Maud says, sending a smile towards you.

"Thanks Maud. It's my mom's favorite dish. I ate it a lot growing up." You say, taking a sip of wine.

"Hmm, American culture doesn't taste as bland as I thought, then." She remarks, taking another bite.

"Be nice, Maud." Declan warns, glaring at his wife.

"Actually, my mom's from Greece. It's Mediterranean, not American." You correct her, trying to hide a shit-faced grin behind your glass of wine.

Caitlin stifles a laugh, earning a light kick of the shin from Taggie.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Maud apologizes, clearly embarrassed.

"No, it's okay. I agree, American food is god awful." You assure her, taking a bite of your meal.

"So, what's this big interview you've announced on live television about?" Maud says, looking over at Declan.

"Ah, I'm interviewing Rupert on Valentine's Day." He says casually, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"That's it?" Maud persists, raising a brow.

"He wants to take him down, mum." Taggie interjects, Declan scoffing at the statement.

"I'm not doing anything that he doesn't deserve." He emphasizes, taking a sip of his glass.

"Declan, don't you think you're taking this a bit too far? They're calling you the Corinium Butcher, for god's sake." Maud exasperates, putting down her cutlery.

"I am doing the interview the way I want to and that is that!" He states firmly. "Now, can you all get off my arse about it and enjoy this lovely meal y/n and Taggie put together? Christ." He exclaims, picking up his fork and taking another bite out of his dish.

Everyone goes quiet, returning to their meals.

You feel a bit cold in the room, the peaks of your breasts hardening as you realize something dire-- you've left your bra in their bedroom.

You clear your throat, standing up. "I have to use the restroom, if you'll excuse me." You say, hurriedly exiting the room.

You make your way down the hall from the foyer towards the master bedroom, slowly opening the door and flicking on the overhead light as you scan the room hastily for your bra.

You get down on your knees, looking underneath the bed on the opposite side from the door. You see it just within arms reach, stretching your arm out as the door opens.

"What are you doing?" Maud says, causing you to smack your forehead against the bedframe, unable to grab ahold of your bra as you stand up hastily.

"I uh, Taggie was giving me a tour earlier and I thought I lost my ring in here. I was just trying to find it because I realized I lost it when I was going to the washroom." You lie out of your ass, smiling oddly at a very confused Maud.

"Oh, what does it look like?" She asks, not realizing this ring did not exist whatsoever.

"It's small, really small. Honestly it was super cheap it's not that big of a deal!" You force out, making your way towards the door. "Let me know if you find it though, it was from my mom." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm going to the washroom now."

You hastily exit the bedroom, leaving Maud behind as you run into the nearby washroom and close the door behind you. You panic as you stare at yourself in the mirror, whispering profanities to yourself. You wash your hands as if you had dirtied them with your actions, almost afraid to return to the table.

You take a deep breath and open the door, walking back out to the dining table as you practice breathing normally.

Maud had already returned to eating her meal, seeming disinterested in your bizarre behaviors from before.

"Is everything alright?" Declan asks you, referring to your tense aura now present in conversation.

"Yes, everything's fine." You say, taking a sip of your wine.

"Y/n was trying to find a ring she lost earlier in the master bedroom, maybe you can keep an eye out for it too." Maud says nonchalantly to Declan, whose face drops at the mention of you being in their bedroom.

"Is that so?" He asks, coughing slightly as he tries to swallow his food down. "That's a shame. I'll keep it in mind then."

You watch as Maud gives him a puzzled look, her eyes squinting at her husband with suspicion.

"Would anyone like dessert?" Taggie asks, standing up.

"Me!" You say abruptly, also getting up. "Let me help you with that!" You offer, following Taggie into the kitchen.

She suddenly stops right by the kitchen island, causing you to bump into her. "Something's going on with you y/n. You've been acting weird all day. Is everything alright?" Taggie asks, a look of concern upon her face as she grabs ahold of your hands.

"Sorry, I'm just stressed out about the whole Rupert ordeal." It wasn't a complete lie, ever since you landed this internship you've felt like putting your head in a door way and slamming the door repeatedly on it. You couldn't imagine how many grudges these Lords hold against each other, it would've been disputed in an instant if you were back at home.

"I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm sorry." Taggie says, sighing. "I tried getting Rupert to step down earlier at the falconery, but he wouldn't listen. He's convinced my father doesn't have the capability to take him down." She whispers, afraid of her father overhearing the two of you.

You quickly glance into the next room where Declan was speaking to Caitlin, Maud seeming very displeased in the middle. "I don't know if we have any more options, Tags. I think we have to let them go at it." You say remorsefully, looking back at her.

"I'm not giving up just yet." She says firmly, picking up a platter of desserts as you shake your head, bringing out another bottle of wine to share.

It was now Friday, February 14th. You and Seb were in mid conversation when Cameron Cook comes barreling down the office floor, yelling about needing coffee.

"You'd think the promotion would make her happy, but she's angrier than ever." You say, closing your folder. Your desk phone starts to ring.

"I'll get the coffee, you get the phone." Seb says, walking around from your shared cubicle.

"Hello, y/n y/l/n speaking." You say.

"Look, I'm going to make this very clear y/n." Maud says on the other line. "I know that you are seeing my husband." She says, causing your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

You laugh breathlessly, looking around as you sit down, almost whispering into the phone. "What are you talking about?" You ask, your body beginning to sweat profusely.

Declan's wife has called you, at work, on the day of all god damn days, to confront you about your affairs.

"I found your bra underneath my bed when I was looking for something else." She says, almost sounding too calm for the circumstances she was speaking of. "I know I am one to talk, but I insist if you know any better, that you no longer see him. His work already keeps him away from our family, god forbid someone at The Corinium starts doing the same." She remarks, her tone never wavering.

Your jaw drops slightly, unable to find your words.

"Oh, and good luck tonight. Don't ruin my husband's career." She says, the line going dead.

You are left in dismay, slowly putting the phone back down on the hook. You look around your workspace once more in complete mortification.

"Oh god." You whisper to yourself, getting up to retrieve a cup of coffee to mask the fear building up inside. You couldn't fathom the audacity Maud O'Hara had to tell you to leave her husband be when she was trying to get with every other well-off man in the county.

All personal feelings aside, you knew you had to listen to her wishes in order to keep your job, and Declan's. It would be unfair to both parties if you kept this up.

You shakily pour the coffee pot into your mug, putting one cream and one sugar in after before stirring it with a spoon. You stare at the ground, unable to gather your thoughts up properly as Declan quickly walks past the kitchen with his focus on papers in his hands, taking a step back when he notices you standing idly.

"Y/n, what're doing just standing there?" He asks boastfully, causing you to jump and spill some coffee on your hand.

"Fuck," You whisper, wincing as you quickly run your hand under the cold tap.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Declan says, coming up beside you and placing his hand on yours. "Is your hand alright?"

You turn to face him, giving him a flat tone. "It's fine, thanks." You say, pulling away as you grab your coffee and step into the hallway. "I have work to do."

He grabs your arm. "What work? You've done it all already." He says, raising a brow. "Is everything alright?" He asks, his eyes full of concern.

"What? Haven't you heard the news?" You quip, staring at him with dread in your eyes. You hated yourself for developing feelings for Declan O'Hara. You were smarter than this, and to allow yourself to dig such an emotional hole was the last thing you needed for your brand-new career.

"Everything is fine, Mister O'Hara." You say, pulling your arm away from his grasp. His face drops when you refuse to use his first name. "Maybe you need to ask your wife the same question." You add bitterly, stepping away from him. His eyes widen at the mention of his wife.

"Elvis is about to enter the building." Seb says, him and Daysee both running down the hall past you two.

Declan looks you for a long, silent moment. "We'll discuss this later." He mutters, following them down the hall.

You close your eyes and sigh, walking away towards your desk.

You're now standing in the control room, biting your nails nervously as Daysee counts down Declan, now live broadcasting the interview. You exchange glances with Seb as Declan begins with mundane questions before hitting him with mildly offensive comments that will eventually snowball into something worse.

You cover your mouth as Declan brings up the topic of adultery, and how it must do Mr. Campbell-Black well for life within the Conservative Party.

"I'm sorry?" Rupert says with dismay.

"You know, sneaking around, lying, betrayal, sexual degeneracy." Declan lists nonchalantly, as if Rupert was born for such actions.

"Oh fuck." You mumble into your hand, Seb patting your shoulder with a sympathetic look.

"Remember, Declan's just doing his job." He reminds you.

"I'm no longer married." Rupert exclaims.

"Yeah, but you were, for six years! And yet throughout your marriage, your affairs were common knowledge." Declan states confidently, gesturing to the crowd. "I mean, one Gloucestershire peer has described you as 'rather a nasty virus that everyone's wife caught sooner or later.'" Declan reads off of a card.

"Well if you've seen his wife, it's definitely later." Rupert retorts towards the audience, causing everyone to laugh. Declan's jaw vividly tenses on camera.

You sigh putting your head in your hands. "Oh wow, that's great." You mumble to yourself.

"What a fucking arsehole." Seb mutters, crossing his arms.

"And that's the break in five..." Daysee begins counting down.

You nervously watch as Declan composes himself to announce the commercial break.

"That's time for break. When we return, who knows what Mister Campbell-Black might choose to share with us when we return." Declan says through a forced smile, looking directly at the camera. It felt like he was looking right at you.

"...and we're out." Daysee says.

"Thank fuck." You quickly exit the control room, needing to be elsewhere for the next three minutes. As you make your way through the halls, you run into Taggie.

"Taggie?" You say in a quizzical manner, causing her to turn and face you.

"Y/n, I'm here to talk to Rupert. Something's very wrong about this." She says urgently.

"Jesus, Taggie you can't-" You begin.

Rupert appears around the corner with his assistant. "Taggie, what are you doing here?" He asks her.

Taggie walks past you. "You need to go. Just walk out."

"Rupert, I advise you to not do that." You warn him.

Rupert laughs at you both. "Your father's not the first old socialist who's tried to catch me out." He reassures Taggie, putting his hand on her arm. "Whatever you're worried about, it's already out there."

"Taggie, you need leave-" You begin, tugging at her arm.

"No, I know him." Taggie says, ignoring you as she pulls away from your grasp. "He's saving the worst for later. When he wants something, he's ruthless." She warns him. "He'll do anything, I mean, he's-"

"He's just like you, Rupert." You say, pursing your lips.

"Exactly." Taggie says.

Cameron Cook appears, interrupting the conversation. "Minister, we need you back on set. The break's almost over." She directs Rupert, who keeps his gaze on you and Taggie.

"Listen to Miss Cook, Rupert. You have to go." You say.

"Just walk out of the building with me." Taggie interjects, pleading with her eyes.

"Minister!" Cameron snaps, glaring at Rupert.

"Screw this." You say, walking away from everyone. You return back to the control room, slamming the door behind you.

"What's going on?" Tony Baddingham asks, puffing on a cigar.

"Cameron has it under control." You simply say, returning to the corner with Seb and Daysee.

"What happened?" Seb asks quietly.

"Taggie's shown up to try and get Rupert to leave. She thinks Declan has more blackmail on him than we are aware of." You whisper, grabbing the back of your neck as you watch Daysee begin to count Declan back in.

"Where the fuck is he?" Tony says harshly, looking down through the viewing glass.

You hide your face behind your clipboard, unable to watch the scene about to unfold.

"Y/n look, Rupert's back." Seb says, tapping on your back to redirect your attention. You look over the clipboard at the monitors, watching Rupert Campbell-Black sit back down on the stage. Rupert begins to compare the interview to being back on the playing field.

"Seb, I don't have a good feeling about this." You say quietly, covering half your face with a clipboard.

"Just watch, relax." Seb whispers.

"It's an interview, there are no winners." Declan tells Rupert, who gives him a look.

"That's not true though, is it?" Rupert queries, looking towards the audience. "He wants to beat me." He exaggerates, giving a shit-faced grin.

Your eyes widen as Rupert begins to compare him to Declan, putting both of them under the same umbrella metaphorically. Declan brings it back around by repeatedly shitting on Campbell-Black, about to pull out an envelope from underneath his blazer as Rupert does something no one expected; admitting everything Declan has said to be true.

"Oh god." You whisper.

"I remember what it was like, to be the best. And what I was willing to do to stay there." Rupert says grimly. "What are you... willing to do?" Rupert asks in a taunting manner.

Declan goes quiet.

"To your family?... To yourself?" Rupert asks solemnly, the both of them having a stare down as the control room starts to light up in commotion.

You watch in fear as Tony urges Declan in his earpiece to take down Rupert, your eyes flickering between the multiple camera angles on a very, very quiet Declan.

"You're right." Declan finally says. "I'm a workaholic. And when I'm consumed by something... I can be, um... I can be a-"

"Monster." Rupert finishes the sentence, the both of them sharing a stare once again.

Rupert makes a comment about Declan being a better husband than he ever was, which causes you to look away from the screen when Declan argues against it. You couldn't help but feel as if you're one of Declan O'Hara's many flaws.

The interview starts to go in the opposite direction. You look back at the screen, watching Declan pull out his earpiece as Tony becomes enraged.

"If it's any consolation, we've made some really great television." Cameron Cook reasons.

"This would have worked if you'd just done your fucking job!" Tony yells at her, causing the rest of you to side eye him madly.

"Seb, I need to go home." You tell him flatly, putting your clipboard down.

"What? Y/n, the show isn't over yet! Where are you going?" Seb exclaims quietly, confused by your course of action. Daysee also gives you a look of worry.

"I just said home! I'll see you on Monday." You whisper aggressively, leaving the control room.

You hastily go over to your desk to retrieve your bag and coat. You glance over quickly at the viewing room the rest of the staff was in, your stomach tying in knots as the sight.

Heading down the hallway and the stairs, you push open the front doors and end up outside, where a massive group of fans stood awaiting Rupert Campbell-Black's return. They all share looks and noises of disappointment as they see you, an intern on the brink of tears instead of the acclaimed bachelor.

You push through the crowd, hurriedly approaching your car and unlocking it. You sit inside the beater and stare off in the distance. Your cheeks are stained with tears against your own will, your forehead resting upon the steering wheel as you begin to sob mercilessly.

You felt so hopeless amidst it all, no longer sure of yourself as you were before.

i will not lie this chapter was becoming so fucking long it's just gonna end up a continuation into the next part... also im lowkey too awkward to properly write out sex scenes because i give myself second hand embarrassment so forgive me this fanfic is plot driven over sex driven (':

as youve noticed ive started to follow by the episode plot line, it makes it easier for me to write and follow. thank you again for the support, and as always keep interacting with my works! keep me motivated ;)

much love,

isabel

#aidan turner #declan o’hara #declan o'hara x you #declan o'hara x reader #rivals fic #rivals 2024 #rivals

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fluxweeed · 3 days ago

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hi i'm a grouchy old hag muttering to myself in my hut in the woods

1. not everyone finds it hurtful to find out that people are discussing their fic in private discord servers or on tiktok, actually. i for one passionately don't care that people aren't only mentioning my fic where i can see it. ofc i'm curious when one fic gets a sudden unexplained boost in kudos for a few days. am i HURT that i don't know exactly where the new readers are coming from? am i upset that the boost in hits/kudos isn't accompanied with a flurry of praise? am i sad that i can't jump into the discussion? i am not.

2. the messaging of "okay but you wouldn't post the fic if you didn't enjoy validation" makes me want to delete my ao3 immediately kasdjhfg. people post things for all sorts of reasons thank u!! my personal motivation is i'm trying to make myself feel better about making imperfect things!! the idea that by posting fic i'm inherently coming across as seeking praise makes me want to throw up. (since this discussion started, i've considered disabling comments on my fic for this reason – but i'm worried that move is so non-standard that it'll end up coming across even MORE that i want attention, so i haven't taken the plunge yet)

3. i also pretty firmly disagree with "commenting on fic builds community!" (i made this joke in a grouchy bluesky rant already so if u saw that pretend u didn't) but personally i feel the community spirit when i'm in a server discussing which weasley has the biggest dick (percy). i don't feel it when people are being nice to me in my fic's comments. i'd almost go as far as to say community CAN'T be built when one person is praising another bc there's an inherent imbalance. sure, writers can mutually read and comment on each other's fic and become friends/community co-members that way, but what if u don't write? who's in YOUR comments telling u how great u are? idk about anyone else, but when i am in a community space (like a discord server) and someone starts being nice about my fic, i feel awkward. the focus shifts from a shared enjoyment onto something inherently UNshared, because one person is the creator and the others are readers. that's not to say that these interactions shouldn't happen, but imo it's disingenuous to say that's the core of fandom community.

4. i really can't stress enough how crazy it makes writers when they're writing for praise/validation. i've had conversations with very well-known drarry writers where they've been genuinely upset that nobody is reading their fic (the fic in question had hundreds of comments). i've had conversations with people who take part in fests, only to continually sort the works by stats and feel awful that theirs isn't at the top. i've had conversations with people who have had multiple devastating life events happen to them so they're struggling to write, and the lack of New Fic Comment Validation makes them feel 10x worse. i can't help but feel like if you ARE posting for feedback (or "recognition" or however you want to package it), it's genuinely not good for your brain.

5. obviously there's nuance to all of this! it's a big topic! but notice how we're talking about it on tumblr, not in ao3 comments. it would probably be even more productive in a discord server. in a voice chat. you know – fandom community spaces like that.

6. can y'all keep the next round of discussions to like 700 words max pls lmao i have stuff to do

#pls i'm begging u #two pages of A4 maximum #peace and love to all tho ok ❤️#it really is nuanced!!!#but i'm afraid saying 'all writers feel X way' simply makes me want to throw my toys out of the pram like #'well i won't be a writer any more then!!!'#(i mean i think we all know it's an empty threat #if i had a comment for every time i vowed to quit writing fic i might have enough to finally feel good about myself 🥲)

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burningcheese-merchant · 20 hours ago

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PLEASE FEED US MORE JUST AS DOWN BAD GOLDEN CHEESE. PLEASE MORE YANDERE CHEESE

Did you send two asks in a row screaming for more Accidental Yandere Golden Cheese lol. Calm down brotato, Merchant is here. Merchant sees you (and everyone else in my inbox I swear to God Almighty I will address you all eventually). Let me see what I've got in my noodle for you

Under the cut because this is fucked and gets a little extra graphic at one particular point lol

Golden Cheese actually has tried to gather the identities of those Burning Spice has murdered. What she wasn't able to glean on her own, from her own personal knowledge of other lands and peoples (i.e. noticing certain traits she knows to be endemic to certain cultures, like a hair accessory or something), she found in books and scrolls in her kingdom's library that gave her a better idea. Whatever she couldn't find in those, she found via sending cheesebirds to travel far and wide in search of any kingdoms, cities, villages, families and friend groups with confirmed missing persons. They would report back to her and, with all the knowledge she's gathered, she's able to find a name, which she then wrote onto a label and placed under the person it belonged to. She's managed to eventually give all the heads their identities/personhood back, at least to some degree. And now, knowing who these people are/were, she can get them back to their loved ones easier. Right? ...Right? (She tries not to progress beyond being proud of herself for going that extra mile, because it just leads back to "ok so why are the heads still here, why haven't you returned them". In trying to do the right thing, she ultimately just does the WRONG thing again and reinforces her preexisting guilt and shame, because... she knows exactly why she hasn't returned them...)

Golden has started... experimenting with Spice, for lack of a better term. After she was proven correct about him paying attention when she mentions someone she doesn't like and later killing that specific person for her, she starts testing him in other ways. She makes subtle suggestions about how he ought to kill people, to see how he responds in the moment and if he actually ends up doing it later. She tries to coax him into going into detail about how the killing went, just to see if and how he does so (turns out he really does like to brag about his crimes, especially to her). She tries to hint at him giving her other things besides body parts, like certain trinkets (it... sort of works. If she asks for a watch, he... brings her a severed arm with a watch attached to it still, for example). She's observing how far he'll go and in which direction he's willing to travel in at her suggestion. (...And she revels in how much power it turns out she has over him. She really does have him at her beck and call. It's lovely.)

When her friends ask her how she's been managing her Beast (they are aware that hers is still actively targeting her, but that's it), she acts as nonchalant as possible. Burning Spice is nothing. He's just a fly buzzing around her head. She handles him just fine. When they ask her how they can help, she tells them she doesn't need it, because she doesn't want them anywhere near him she really is fine. It's fine. She's fine. When they suggest going after him themselves... thank goodness she's a good actress and a quick thinker, because her very first REAL reaction was seething fury that she had to keep under control until she was alone again - but then, when she finally is, she just has another crisis of conscience, because now she has to confront the fact that she can no longer tolerate the notion of him being harmed by anyone besides herself. She used to want him dead or imprisoned by any means necessary, but now... now, she lies about his whereabouts to everyone who asks (and she always knows where he is, she snuck a tracking device onto him), because she doesn't want anyone coming near him for any reason anymore, least of all to harm him. Because only SHE can harm him now. He still comes to fight her, not just to give her things. And she obliges him, albeit begrudgingly (never mind the sick satisfaction she feels when she hurts him or takes him down. She wonders if this feeling is what he's referring to in those letters about him reveling in their battles and how he enjoys her suffering). She... she won't let that end. She won't let anyone get in the way. In his way. In THEIR way. She can handle him by herself. Everyone else can stay home. They won't take him away from her. She cannot guarantee their safety if they try.

She once idly wondered about his past. About the people he likely once had in his life. About... if he'd ever been fond of any other women. She could hardly fathom the hatred that utterly overwhelmed her senses when the thought entered her mind. So angry was she that she broke the glass of water in her hand in said anger and injured herself. So haunted by this notion did she end up, that she tried to ask him about it the next time they met (as subtly as possible; she understands the implications of asking such a thing). He just shrugged and said he didn't recall; the only woman that mattered to him was her. She hated how relieved she felt when he told her that...

...but after that day, and for a good while, he only targeted women. He kept killing adult women and bringing their heads to her, and no one else's. She quickly surmised that he might have noticed her jealousy (or at least imagined she was jealous) and immediately set out to prove his devotion to her further than before by destroying those she feels threatened by - even if the threat does not exist, for she is all he ever wanted. He never told her directly, but she figured that's what it was. And she allowed herself to believe it. Because it made her happy.

(When the women-only killing spree eventually ended, she was struck with morbid curiosity and asked him about the men he killed. Was there anything behind the ones he chose? He revealed to her that, though his targets were mostly random, he would go out of his way to kill any man that he thought she might find attractive. He was capable of feeling threatened, just like she was. It was quite the surprise... a surprise she welcomed, a surprise she found deeply amusing. Because really, what was left for her to find attractive in anyone anymore, when no one went as far as he did to earn her favor?)

She actually does find him handsome. She always has, from the beginning. It was something she considered to be a great shame; such good looks squandered on such a horrible man. But now... with her greed slowly spiraling out of control thanks to him constantly overfeeding it the way he does with his violent extremism... she's starting to dare to find that extremism handsome, too. She's slowly but surely ceasing to find any shame in the circumstance. She's starting to think he's handsome... and that's it, that's the end of the thought. He's handsome, with all of that blood coating his face and body. He's handsome, puffing his chest out and beaming with such sick pride at the handiwork he performed for her. He's handsome, in his maddened, unwavering dedication to her. He's handsome... no asterisk, no addendum, no ifs ands or buts. He's handsome. Burning Spice is handsome. It weighs on her like a stone. And it only gets heavier each time he sees him and his handsome face again.

Sometimes... just sometimes... she'll reread those letters that are particularly... steamy. There's something rather fascinating about them, in a different way than the others. They're so... uniquely visceral. She believes him when he tells her he's starving; his hunger practically lunges at her from the page, claws at her, sinks its teeth into her, sets her body alight. Pure, unashamed, blistering hot lust and sexuality, with some of that same addiction to violence mixed in (he's a sadomasochist, go figure). People have flirted with Golden before... but not like this. No one on earth has ever dared to speak to her so brazenly, not even after several pints of liquid courage. He talks about wanting to break her bed as well as she herself. He tells her how often he touches himself to the thought of her. He details exactly where he wants to put his hands. Where he wants to put his mouth. What he intends to say straight into her ears as they go, and what he wants her to say back to him. How he doesn't want to stop until they both collapse with exhaustion. Just neverending feverish rants about he wishes to destroy her in more ways than one, and how he expects her to scream and beg either way. She won't admit it, not even to herself, the thought tried to make itself known inside of her head once and she shoved it down and tried to bury it under concrete instantly, but... she's almost... intrigued. She's flattered, of course. She relishes this aspect of his insatiable appetite for her alongside all the others. (She likes being told she's pretty. He does that and then some.) But... some small part of her is... curious. Curious about... if he really would follow through on what he says he wants to do, if he really had the chance. How it would feel. How HE would feel. What the difference would really be between him overpowering her to win a fight and him overpowering her to... to...

...there are nights where she lays awake, drilling holes into the ceiling with her bloodshot eyes, wondering where it all went wrong. There are nights where all that succeeds in putting her to sleep are the warm, bitter tears that stream down her face when the guilt and shame grow too powerful. There are nights where she just gets up and leaves, throws herself out of her own window and flies off somewhere, anywhere, it doesn't matter - it just had to be somewhere she couldn't feel dozens of empty, lifeless eyes watching her through the walls. Judging her. Condemning her. Damning her to Hell, where she and the monster who ended their lives belonged.

...and then, there are nights where she feels... strange. Where she notices how... big her bed really is, and how small she feels laying in it. She wonders how it would feel if he was there. If she could nest in his thick, strong arms instead of thin bedsheets. How much more comfortable his chest would feel, compared to her pillow. If his hair was as soft as it looked. How he'd react if she started tracing his tattoos with her fingertips. If sharing a tender moment like that would awaken something in him. If it would somehow help him realize how wrong all of this is.

...Or maybe it would just make it worse.

Maybe she doesn't care anymore.

#y'all gotta stop encouraging me like this lol #i TOLD YOU I love writing dark shit and crazy people. Stop enabling me #jk keep enabling me please this is fun #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #yandere beasts #suggestive

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teoft · 1 day ago

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It's like Tumblr has become almost a diary for me, thanks to no character limit and a read more button. This atmosphere of acceptance and understanding helps a lot too.

I'll get back to posting actual art, juggling with Twitter and Bluesky along with commissions is taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, thoughts about art community and being social

For the longest time I've had this feeling of being an outsider in this vague community of artists that see as colleagues of sorts. Like I meet all the "criteria" of being in the group, and yet don't really feel like I'm part of it. Well, it seems I am right in some way, and the reason is that they interact with each other, while I sit here drawing alone.

Unfortunately I've always been prone to isolate myself from others. I grew up feeling like I should be ashamed of loving to draw, since it was always fanart monsters, creatures and cool guys instead of "proper art" like animals and portraits. Before social media, I only drew for myself and never showed anything to anybody. I hid my art from my family, from the world, so that I wouldn't be judged. I think it is one of the biggest reasons why I have trouble interacting with people in the context of art (tbh I'm shit at being social anyway but that's a whole another problem).

Even when I had a scanner and means to post my art online, I never did, due to the whole "if you put something online it'll be there forever" mindset. My first actual account anywhere online must've been Facebook in 2010ish, where I only had a few friends. It was the perfect place for me to finally post anything online, and so I did: I used to post pretty much everything I drew on there. Slowly gaining courage, I eventually made my original Tumblr account, then Deviantart, Twitter, etc.

Still, all I did was throw my art out there in hopes of somebody liking it. I didn't really know how to interact with the people who commented on my posts, so instead I mostly just... made more art. I did have some friend groups here and there, but either they ended up falling apart or my social battery drained in such a way that I slowly drifted away. I had gotten used to just being by myself and relying only on myself in the online art world.

During my design studies, I started putting more thought and work on promoting myself, so that it could be one career path for me to take. My mindset was that I'll work hard and become "big", even if it meant that one post gained me just one follower. In 2020 I ended up going viral with a meme and suddenly getting tens of thousands of followers. It was great and a welcome boost of morale, but unfortunately 2020 was otherwise one of the worst years in my life.

Throughout the years people have come and gone, so the only constant for me has been myself, and my drive to develop my skills. Thus it's been too easy for me to just isolate myself. In a way it has been my strength with regards to art, but sometimes I wish I knew how to make lasting connections. I think/know I might be autistic to some degree, which adds to the difficulty of being social. Though, to be honest, I don't know if I'd gotten this far without my autistic hyperfixations.

I guess the thing I need to do now to fix this problem of loneliness and isolation is to just... slowly try and be more social. To reply to comments and talk to people. All of which is easier said than done. Still, just gotta take that first step and then keep going.

Despite lacking the kind of community I yearn for, it seems I've made a name for myself, enough so that people seem to take pride in knowing me. Or at least that's the impression I've gotten a few times. But still, I am happy that I've had a positive effect on people. After all, my two main motivators in art are that I like doing it, and I like when people enjoy my art.

#Teoft rambles

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twstfanblog · 1 day ago

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*~Thanks Give Me~* Pt 2

A/N: Second part ready and served! The third part will be posted tomorrow, so look forward to those vignettes XD Word Count: 5.1K Pairings: Barely seen Ruggie/Leona Warnings: Swearing

Prev/Next

The two weeks leading up to the dinner were surprisingly peaceful. Everyone took their tasks seriously, even Leona came to Ramshackle to offer more monetary support a day after the meeting.

(“Just use my card to buy food for the dinner. Seven knows that Ruggie can eat…”

“Oh don't worry, he already gave me your bank info.”

“...”)

It was endlessly entertaining to watch both Sebek and Silver struggle to not spill the beans to an excited Lilia. The retired general hadn't figured anything out as far as they could tell, but he could see their friend group were all prepping for something. It was also hilarious watching Malleus launch his godfather into the stratosphere whenever Sebek nearly told the smaller third-year about the dinner.

Rook had disappeared for nearly a week, only returning with a massive freezer chest and a profound sense of pride a few days before the dinner. Inside said chest was a plucked turkey the size of a small velociraptor. The junior was all too pleased to recount the method of how he got the bird. His eldest sister, Reine, had been eager to let him hunt down a very aggressive tom on her wildlife preserve.

Yuu was just lucky Rook had provided the magically chilled chest and that their oven knew when best to defy the laws of physics.

Cater had been texting them almost nonstop, trying to clear up what his job task of ‘gay cousin’ was even supposed to mean. Yuu would simply respond with winking emojis, much to his displeasure.

Kalim had contacted them the night after the housewarden meeting, sounding pitiful as he promised he was able to complete his task. He simply had no idea what China was. Though he wanted to do a crystal set, it would take time to get so many plates, glasses, and platters all custom carved. Not to mention the short notice.

(“Oh that's right, China isn't a place here…um…It's porcelain dishes…Chang’an?”

“Ooooooooh. Yeah I can get us a really nice Chang’an set! With lots of designs and pretty red flowers! Red is a color I can use right? Or maybe traditional blue? I wonder if I can get a full gold set-”)

Jamil had dropped off the set a few days later, stacks upon stacks of gold-rimmed dishes with center designs of a painted red flower in bloom and deeper red swirls along the edges. Just as they had requested, there were plenty of matching serving platters and pots of varying sizes. The vice warden also asked for Yuu to find something for him to do. While he wasn't tasked with a job, he felt uncomfortable coming to dinner offering nothing.

Yuu told him if he had to do something, he was welcome to help them clean and sort the metric ton of silverware they still needed to look through for the party. A long afternoon task that ended with Jamil lovingly stating she was complete shit at polishing silverware.

More people were invited, both intentionally and surprisingly. Yuu had approached Crewel, Trein, and Sam privately to ask if they'd like to attend the dinner. They of course had their tasks as everyone else did. Trein was pleasantly amused to know his simple task was ‘Grandpa’ and that Lucius was also invited. Crewel didn't respond but he also didn't throw the invite back in Yuu's face hearing his job was ‘Wine Aunt’. Sam could barely hold in his laughter at his assigned task of ‘Cool Weed-smoking Cousin’.

Jack had called them, asking if his younger siblings could attend the dinner. He had contacted his mother to send her recipe for poached pears, leading her to trap him in an hour-long story that ended on her saying the twins' babysitter had canceled at the last minute. After learning the day in question was the same as the dinner, Jack had offered to bring his younger siblings to NRC for the day if allowed.

Yuu quickly agreed, already reworking the dining room to make room for a kid's table. Along with sending a message to Falena about the dinner and how Cheka would be welcome to come. (Leona texting them only a few minutes later with a variety of foul language).

Before they knew it, the day had arrived. Sebek spent the entire day beforehand and slept over, helping in prep and making the long list of foods that Yuu knew to be holiday staples. Waking up at 6am the day of, they both walked back into the kitchen to continue cooking and verbally clawing at each other until others started to arrive.

The Heartslabyul crew all stood on the Ramshackle front porch, dressed in button-downs and a variety of semi-formal wear. Ace messed with his bow tie, raising an eyebrow while Riddle politely knocked on the Ramshackle front door, “So…why are we here dressed up and with two pies?”

Trey spoke, holding his glass container up, “This is banana pudding, not a pie.”

Deuce frowned, glaring at Ace while he lifted his own container in his hands, “And my eggs!”

“I don't even want to know why you have deviled eggs, Juice. What are we doing here?” Huffing, he raised an eyebrow at Cater primping his own semi-formal clothing, “I hate to ask it, but shouldn’t we be in class?”

“For the dinner. Just try to be on decent behavior.” Riddle looked through the side window of the door, concerned at hearing Yuu and Sebek screaming at each other as he knocked again.

“D-Dinner? What dinner? It's 10am!?”

Trey opened the door after no one answered, keeping a firm grip on his container of pudding, “Yuu? Sebek? We're here.”

The clattering and yelling stopped for a moment, the Heartlabyul crew looking confused at the uncharacteristically closed doors of the kitchen. Yuu opened the double doors, a splattered apron over their pajamas, greeting them with a big smile, “Hey guys! Thanks for coming by so early. Trey, Riddle, you guys can put your stuff in the dining room, I’ll be messing with it to make it all pretty later on.”

Deuce spoke up, holding his container up proudly, “I made deviled eggs!”

Yuu laughed, taking the Tupperware from their friend, “Thank you, Deuce. I’ll make sure to put them in a nice dish. Me and Sebek are still cooking everything else so could you guys make sure Grim hasn’t ripped apart the lounge in protest of being told to wait?”

“Of course. I know my task is to call everyone to the meal, but is there a certain time we join to eat?” Riddle questioned, handing his pie to Trey.

“Hmm. My family normally ate around two or three. But if me and Sebek keep up our pace we should be done by noon or one.”

Ace spoke up, looking around in pure bewilderment, “Tasks? You have guys had tasks?”

Yuu hummed, looking Ace up and down in barely concealed annoyance, “Ace, happy to see you’re on task.”

“I had a task!?”

Sebek’s voice called out from the kitchen, anger clear in his tone, “Stop fraternizing and continue with your own task!”

“Sebek, shut the fuck up and focus on the damn potatoes! And I swear to GOD, if you’re not using the goddamn ricer.” Yuu had started to walk back into the kitchen, brushing off Ace’s confused sputtering as she slammed the kitchen doors behind her.

“I don’t need to use the ricer!”

“You don’t need oxygen!”

Ace turned to Cater, raising an eyebrow, “What was my task!? Be confused!?”

Cater was tapping at his phone, texting Idia to remind him he had promised him he would come to the dinner, “Actually, it was you ‘weren’t invited and came anyway’.”

“...What?”

“Be happy, mine was ‘Gay Cousin’...”

“What?”

More knocks come from the front door, Riddle running over to open it. He smiled, “Oh, you made it-”

“Move, Riddle.” Ruggie shouldered his way past the housewarden, already speed-walking into the dining room.

“...” Riddle turned to the other two Savanaclaw members still on the porch, “As I was saying, welcome. The meal isn't ready yet, so we're gathering in the lounge.”

Leona sighed, eyes almost glazing over, “Of course, we gotta wait more…”

Riddle folded his arms, tilting his head, “Isn’t your job to be a couch potato?”

Leona pointed to his front, “I gotta get this thing entertained and fed…”

Gripping onto Leona’s two braids like they were handlebars was Cheka in more formal wear than Riddle had ever seen him. The five-year-old swinging lightly but greeted him in joy, “Hi Mr. Riddle!”

“Hello, Cheka.” Riddle looked to Jack, raising an eyebrow seeing no one else with him, “Jack, were your siblings not coming?”

At that moment Riddle finally took notice of two pairs of tiny hands gripping onto each of Jack’s shoulders. Almost in sync, two coal-colored heads peek from under their brother’s hair, big amber eyes blinking at him. From what he could see, they had the same spikey hair pattern as their brother. Both with wolf ears still slightly too big for their heads, one of them having ear tips that matched with Jack’s grey hair.

Jack held up a glass container, “I brought the dessert Yuu asked for. Is there a place she wants me to put it?”

“Hmm…She said to place our dishes in the dining room, but she also wanted to place Deuce’s deviled eggs in a separate dish.”

Leona finally grabbed Cheka, silently demanding the child let go of his braids to hold him properly, “Where is Feral anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be hosting this dinner?”

Riddle looked to the closed kitchen doors, expression vaguely concerned, “Well-”

“Sebek, you better be basting that turkey the same way Silver basts your face! If that turkey is dry, I will marry your mom!”

…

One of Jack’s siblings pulls themselves up higher on his shoulder, gently tugging on Jack’s ear to whisper to him loudly, “What’s basting?”

Jack shoved the container into Riddle’s hands, speed walking down the hall and away from the kitchen of profanity, “Hey, Yuu has a TV. You guys wanna watch Lara the Explora?” Sighing in relief as the six-year-old twins cheer at the idea of watching their favorite cartoon.

Cheka looked at Leona, opening his mouth to also ask, only to have Leona quickly cut him off as he walked deeper into the house.

“Don't even ask me.”

Trey had luckily been in the dining room and dragged Ruggie out before he could touch a single one of the serving dishes. Each platter remained with their tops on and magically locked to keep warm until opened again. The second-year almost scandalized hearing he needed to wait until everything was done. Dejectedly, after a weirdly intense stare from Trey, Ruggie backed down and joined the others in the lounge. Managing to wedge himself between one of Leona’s knees and the armrest of a three-person. He really took his task of ‘Spreading it’ seriously.

Sam had arrived, passing out little candies to Grim and the children as a way to tie over their appetites. He had only popped in the kitchen for twenty seconds, delivering a block of cheese Yuu had ordered that finally came in, only to rush out like his life depended on it. His only explanation being the kitchen was filled with malicious intent…

The Octavinelle trio had arrived while Sam and Cater were discussing their semi-shared task of ‘Cousin’ and all it entailed. Floyd holding a container close to his chest and keeping a vicious glare leveled at his twin, Jade pouting and glaring right back as he made small lunges. The two feuding eels leaving Azul to bring a chilled chest of drinks up the stairs himself.

Riddle stopped Floyd from entering when he opened the door, pointedly staring at the container in his arms, “What is that? You weren't tasked to bring anything.”

Floyd's scowl turned to Riddle, stepping away from the smaller sophomore and clutching the container even closer to his chest, “Shrimpy had no right saying I can't be trusted. So I made fried chicken.”

“And Jade…?”

Scoffing, Jade walked into the house, casting one last glare over his shoulder before cracking open one of the double doors to the kitchen to peek in.

Snickering, Floyd handed his container over to Riddle to finally help Azul with the container of drinks, “I locked him out of the lounge kitchen this morning. He didn't get to even try anything since I messed all his stupid boxes up last night too.”

“You nearly destroyed my Lulu Lazerus mushroom…If I hadn't managed to get it settled in a new terrarium I would be an only child right now…”

Floyd's only response was to make a face, groaning mockingly while he rolled his eyes and let his tongue hang out.

Jade had just started to ponder the idea of ripping Floyd's tongue out of his mouth when the kitchen doors opened fully. Luckily, Yuu and Sebek weren't yelling anymore but instead speaking to each other in intense tones.

“Suck it the fuck up, Sebek. I'm fucking tired and hungry too. Stop eating all the pineapple slices, those are for the fucking ham!” Yuu smiled at Jade, pointing behind them, “Come on, you can make the mushroom gravy since I suck at cooking them.”

That single prompt had flipped Jade's mood completely. The eel now smiling and already rushing past Yuu and into the kitchen. Their smile turned to Floyd and Azul, raising an eyebrow.

“What you make, Floyd?”

“Fried chicken...” Floyd frowns, putting together just what had happened, “Hey, wait a minute-”

“Yeah, I played you both. Go hang out in the lounge, there are small children in there.”

“Oh? Cool, I love playing with guppies!”

Riddle quickly followed after Floyd rounding back to place the container in Yuu’s hands, already scolding the laughing eel as they made their way to the lounge, “Please don't throw any of the children.”

Azul tapped Yuu on the shoulder, making sure to not get any food on his pressed dress shirt, “There are…children here?”

“Is that a hint of fear I hear, Azul?”

The housewarden sputtered, waving his date-mate's teasing expression away, “I'm not afraid of children. I just didn't bring more child-friendly beverages…”

Yuu opened the chilled chest, frowning as they took stock of the various bottles Azul had brought, “Zulie, I said booze and non-booze…”

“And I have! Must I remind you that the dietary expectations for children here are different from your world?”

They were in all fairness. Most commercial food wasn't as processed as what Yuu was used to. Even the most ‘unhealthy’ junk food was still leagues better than what Yuu would find back in their old world. Food geared toward children had even stricter social guidelines; juices were expected to be whole fruit juice and even blended with vegetables to ensure a well-rounded diet.

Sighing, Yuu tapped their chin, “Yeah…I can fix this. Let me help you get these all set up in the dining room. I gotta call Kalim and hope he and Jamil aren't on their way yet.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, following after Yuu, “I assume we're putting them on a table or people would pour their own drinks?”

“Don't worry, I'll show you where to put everything.”

Azul was surprised to see the chandelier of the dining room was also a drinks dispenser. The bulbs were completely hollow even though they shined with light. He watched from the side as Yuu stood on the table and filled each glass bulb with the multiple drinks Azul had brought. He asked what they had requested from Kalim, seeing how his task was simply making sure they had a dining set.

Yuu remarked they were going to make a punch for the children since everyone would be concerned about the content of the nonalcoholic drinks for the kids.

“It probably won’t taste the same, but It was really good whenever my auntie felt like making it for family get-togethers. I think the kids will like it.”

Luckily, Kalim and Jamil hadn't left Scarabia when Yuu called. Kalim was all too eager to bring more items at Yuu's request; multiple whole fruit juices and a large bottle of lemon-lime soda water made with his unique magic. The Scarabia duo had even brought other gifts as they arrived at the dorm.

Yuu opened the door, smiling as Kalim held up his armful of bottles, “You're a lifesaver, Kalim.”

“It's no problem! I'm glad I could bring something other than just plates. Plus, we ran into Idia and Ortho!” Kalim turns, smiling at the small group still walking up the steps behind him.

Jamil was bringing up the rear, arms folded over his chest as he gave a glare to the back of Idia’s head. The flame-haired third-year shuffling along as he walked up the stairs as slow as he could. Ortho was floating beside him, eyes creased in his joy as he gently tugged on his brother's oversized sweater. Against his will, Idia made it up the steps and stood nearly curled in on himself.

Yuu cooed, reaching over and pinching Idia’s cheek hard, ignoring the flash of red his hair gave, “Look at you! All dressed up like you're fit for the public!”

“And you aren't for some reason. Aren't you hosting?” Jamil raised an eyebrow, looking over his datemate's messy appearance. He grimaces, reaching out to tug at the edge of their apron, “Is this part of it?”

“Well, me and Sebek are gonna get dressed up once the food is all ready. We just gotta put some finishing touches on a few more dishes then wait for everyone else to show up.”

Ortho tilts his head, “Would you like us to take over? You and Sebek should go get dressed so we can all eat as soon as everyone arrives.”

Idia mumbled under his breath, trying to shimmy his way a bit further from the door, “I'd…really rather not be in a hot kitchen…”

Sighing, Yuu stepped to the side to let the group enter the house, “I don’t want you guys to have to take over cooking for us. You’re all dressed so nice, I’d feel bad if you got messy…”

Jamil rolled his eyes, quick hands already untying Yuu’s apron and putting it over his blazer, “I think we can manage. You and Sebek go get washed up. I'm sure you’d love to actually host instead of looking as disheveled as you are and answering the door.”

“...Fine…” Yuu called into the kitchen, telling Sebek they were released from cooking and to go shower. They were barely able to move out of the way as Sebek zoomed out of the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs, his apron only just hitting the counter as his door slammed upstairs.

“...” Yuu turned to Kalim, Jamil and Ortho already in the kitchen, “Can you mix the punch up for me? You’re gonna use all the juice and the soda water for it. Put some sliced oranges in it, it’s for the kiddies.”

Kalim nodded, bumping the kitchen door open with his hip, “Got it!”

“And don’t think I forgot about you tall, dank, and heinous.” Yuu folded their arms, glaring at the back of Idia.

Idia had been inching closer to the front door, hoping he could slip out before being noticed and run back to his room. He groaned, scowling over his shoulder at Yuu, “I’m not even hungry…”

“You’re never hungry. Just sit at the table and hold Cater’s hand or whatever the fuck you do to maintain emotional stability.”

“So long as I can have my tablet at the table…” He rubs his forearm, looking to the ground, “Did you dress Grim up?”

“Yes. He has a new bowtie that he hates so he’s all pouty and grumpy.”

“Aw…cute.”

Cater poked his head out of the lounge hearing Idia’s voice, phone poised in hand before he let out a sigh of relief seeing his boyfriend actually showed up, “OMS, Idia! You look so good, babes. Thank you for showing like you promised~.”

Idia finally let a smile crack, tugging on his collar as the tips of his hair eased into pink, “I mean…you did help me pick out what to wear-MHP!”

The other third-year had sped walked over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around Idia’s neck before pulling him in to make out with him. The redhead moaned loudly and running his hands through nearly neon-pink flames while pressing their bodies together.

“Cater! For the love of the Design!” Yuu slapped him repeatedly on the shoulder until he finally detached from a dazed Idia, “What the fuck dude!? Don't dry hump your boyfriend in my entryway!?”

“What am I supposed to do as ‘Gay Cousin’!? My boyfriend is here, so I get to be gay and kiss him!”

Rolling her eyes, Yuu groaned and walked up the stairs to finally clean up. Leaving a stunned Idia and an angry Cater, the redhead holding his hands up as to question the higher powers.

“What do I DO!?”

Yuu and Sebek cleaned up well, Sebek feeling much better freshly showered and in the button-up he had spent an hour last night ironing. Yuu kept simple, the new designer jeans Crewel had flung at her after seeing her trying to sew in another patch on the thigh of her old jeans. A sweater Yuu had stolen from Vil’s closet, the third-year feeling something was missing from his wardrobe, but unable to figure out what was gone.

So she could feel nothing but smug when she opened the door, smiling at the well-dressed group of the Pomfiore trio on their porch, “Eyebrows.”

Vil raised a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow, already connecting the dots on where his missing top had gone. He tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the lid of his container, “Onion.”

“I see, you not only managed to get Epel de-mudded but you finished your salad on time.”

With a smile that seemed almost mocking, Vil opened his container to show the multicolored pasta inside, “I made a pasta salad.”

Yuu looked at the dish, her smile almost frozen on her face before she took in a deep breath through her nose. She reaches out, nails raking down the sides of the ceramic bowl as they slowly pull it out of Vil’s hands, “I should…beat you to death for your audacity. But this honestly, looks delightful and I think you actually seasoned it.”

Epel spoke up from beside Vil, giving his housewarden a judgemental look, “He had me season it.”

“Hush, Epel.”

Rook tilted his head, smiling brightly, “I hope we are not too fashionably late. It’d do no good for us to miss such festivities with our dear classmates.”

Yuu ushered them in, “Not too late. Most everyone is here, but you also aren’t the last to arrive.”

Vil smiled as he triple-checked his makeup and outfit in the gold mirror on the wall, “Perfect.”

Epel perked up, holding out his own dish, “Oh, yeah. Here’s the tenderloin you wanted me to make. I never thought pork and apples would work together. How’d you know?”

Yuu partly wanted to point out to Epel that he was potentially blessed. Any food he made with apples was almost otherworldly good, a trait they learned Epel shared with his grandma, “Something from my world. Come on, we’ll get your dishes settled on the table.”

Rook closed the door behind their group, eyes glancing over to the kitchen doors, “May, I see the efforts of my hunt? I wish to see the golden beauty that was once my quarry.”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry, no one eats yet.”

After sending the Pomfiore trio to the lounge, they almost slipped back into the kitchen to touch base with Ortho and Jamil, only to hear the door being flung open to slam against the wall. Turning around they smiled seeing the familiar black and white fur coat. Crewel was already walking through the entryway, designer shades taking over half his face with a large gold-foiled wine bottle gripped in one hand.

“Papa dog! Thank you for coming, you didn't need to bring us more wine-”

Crewel didn't stop walking, managing to brush past Yuu completely with a pat to their head, “No, this is for me, puppy. No touchy.”

“Yep, that tracks…” Yuu had nearly closed the door only to see Trein coming up the stairs too, Lucius tucked securely in his arms, “Grandpa! You made it!”

They hug briefly, Trein sighing and allowing Lucius to jump from his arms to trot into the house. He was in a different robe, vaguely familiar to his normal attire but clearly of higher quality and with a more elaborate brooch, “It feels odd to cancel classes for a ‘dinner’. And on a Thursday at that…”

“Hm…yeah. We technically have a Thanksgiving break in my world. It’s basically just an extended weekend though.”

“That makes sense. While your studies are important, maybe this little break will do you children some good. Here’s hoping that Crewel doesn’t use this as an excuse to overdrink again.”

“Oh, he came in with a bottle of wine.”

“Of course he did…”

Yuu was ready to text Lilia just to ask if he and his boys were on their way, secret be damned. Though a part of her realized she should of expected them to be the latest party of everyone. Malleus was so timeblind that he was potentially going to miss the heat death of the universe then pout about it. Silver can’t always fight against his compulsion to sleep and Lilia isn’t supposed to fucking know about the dinner anyway.

So when Yuu heard the door knocking with a refined yet urgent feeling, she flung Cheka out of her lap (Directly into Leona’s stomach) and raced toward the front door.

Swinging it open, she smiled at the nicely dressed trio before her, “There’s my bread delivery!”

Silver smiled, holding up the large wicker basket full to the brim with artisan bread rolls, “They should still be warm, but a bit longer in the oven shouldn’t burn them.”

Lilia looked between them all, taking note of Yuu’s semi-fancy attire before gasping. He pouted, glaring at each of his sons “Is this a dinner party!? I knew you boys were hiding something from me, but for it to be a meal among friends? I could have made something!”

Yuu watched as Silver and Malleus both gave an identical shudder at the same time.

Malleus places a hand on Lilia’s shoulder, letting the older fae jerk himself away, “You weren’t tasked with cooking. But, if you wish to have been involved, you were.”

Silver perks up, handing the bread to Yuu and finally stepping into the house as a group, “That’s right, father. You helped make the bread. I can’t shape dough nearly as well as you can. You helped greatly.”

“Surely the meal will be elevated from your lavish buns.”

Lilia pouted, arms now crossed. He wasn’t dull, he knew his children were simply trying to pacify his soured mood. It didn’t help they had kept such a secret from him. Then again…

Chuckling, Lilia places his hands on his hips as he let go of his annoyance, “Well, I have to admit, I am looking forward to the meal. Is it just us or will others be joining?”

Yuu smiled, sharing a kiss with Malleus, the horned fae already beaming at himself for completing his task. Looking to Lilia, Yuu nodded her head to the lounge down the hall, “You guys are actually the last group. Go wait in the lounge for a bit, me and Jamil will get the last touches of dinner done.”

While Malleus wasn’t too keen to leave, he allowed Lilia to tug him down the hall and into the lounge. The sound of Sebek shouting in joy at finally seeing his dorm family again, already talking their ears off on how much he had done to help insure the success of the meal.

Yuu leaned their head into the lounge, locking eyes with Riddle and nodding. The housewarden perked up, standing from his seat and bringing his fingers to his lips to let out a piercing whistle.

Once he had everyone’s attention, he nodded and made motions to leave the room, “It’s time for the meal. Let’s all make our way to the dining room.”

The Ramshackle dining room was possibly the most elegant room of the house, which wasn’t hard, but it counted. The dark wood-paneled walls were lit softly by the warm lights of the chandelier. The long table was decorated by deep red placemats, crystal glasses, stark white plates, and matching serving platters filled to the brim with food. Tucked to the far wall, resting under a large landscape painting, was a much smaller table with five placemats.

Yuu smiled, gesturing to the small table, “Niblings, that’s your table. Everyone else, I actually have nametags so you guys are assigned seats.” Their smile quickly fell, reaching out and gripping Ruggie by the back of his suspenders and yanked him back from the table, “Not yet.”

Ruggie groaned loudly, glaring at Yuu, “What now!? This is my dinner isn’t it!?”

“No, you wanted a Thanksgiving dinner. So we’re doing a Thanksgiving dinner, all the annoying shit involved. Now, we’re going to stand around the table, hold hands, and say a prayer.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, “What, like a cult?”

Crewel pulled a face, begrudgingly holding onto Trein’s hand, “Why are we praying?”

Yuu grips Deuce’s hand, pointing a finger at everyone, “Don’t question me, this is just how my family always did it. Ruggie, you wanted this, you do it.”

“I-Do what?”

“The prayer, Ruggie. Say a few words about what you’re thankful for or like…praise god or whatever. Now everyone, hold each other’s hands and bow your heads until the prayer is done.”

“Ok, so this is cult behavior-”

“Bow your heads!”

Everyone bowed their heads, a few shooting Ruggie questioning glances before looking back to the floor or closing their eyes.

Ruggie stood in silence for a few seconds. Looking around the room before taking a breath and bowing his head as well, “Um…Hi? This is weird and I really don’t want to do this is public. But…Thank you…for the meals I’ve had, the meal I’m having, and the meals I’ll have…” He smiles softly, the grip he had on Leona’s hand tightening only a touch, “And for the people I share them with. Bless.”

Yuu holds their head up, staring at Ruggie in surprise, “Ruggie, holy shit, that was actually lovely.”

“Can we eat now?”

“Oh my God-Yeah.”

Everyone took a seat, Yuu further explained that whoever had a child sitting at the kids' table was allowed to make their and the child’s plate first. Ruggie being the only one who didn’t fit into that group who was allowed to pile his plate as much as he wanted before everyone else.

Prev/Next

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomefiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia

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mimisempai · 3 days ago

Text

It's just a risk to take 1/2

Summary

For the fifth year in a row, Crowley's mother insists on inviting him to her charity gala. Although he has refused each time, this time he has no choice. And if he doesn't want his mother to force a date on him, he'll have to bring someone. So he takes the risk of inviting his old friend Aziraphale, for whom he feels much more than friendship.

Notes

A little Human AU of them getting together

On Ao3

Rating G - 1783 words

Chap 2

"Anthony!"

Though startled by his mother's voice, Anthony did not react and continued to read the newspaper, sitting on his sofa with his feet up on the coffee table.

He heard the door close, then the click of heels coming closer, and only looked up when his mother tossed a sheet of paper into his lap.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that it was the negative response he'd sent to her invitation to the fall charity ball she hosted every year.

Continuing to leaf through the paper as if nothing had happened, he asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my dear mother?"

With her hands on her hips, his mother replied in a voice whose irritation she couldn't quite shake, “This is the fifth year you've refused my invitation and said you'd come next year. Five times!"

Anthony slowly lifted his eyes to his mother and looked at her with an assurance he was far from feeling.

"After four rejections, didn't you think there was no point in sending me a fifth invitation?"

"You know very well that I don't take no for an answer."

"And yet you'll have to do it again this time. I haven't changed my mind."

Crowley closed the newspaper and stood up before throwing it on the sofa and going to the kitchen to have some coffee. Of course, his mother followed him, and he felt that this time he'd really have a hard time staying firm. After all, he took after her as much for her flaming hair as for her stubborn nature.

He filled two cups of coffee and handed her one, which she eagerly grabbed.

He sat down on one of the high stools behind the counter as his mother leaned across from him.

She sighed.

"Anthony, I don't understand, you're smart, you're good at what you do, you're a handsome man..."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Don't interrupt me! I was saying that you're a fine person, that you're good company when you're not hiding behind your sarcasm, that you have a job that you thrive at, and yet you're hiding in your apartment like an old bachelor."

Anthony replied with all the calm he could muster, "I am hiding, as you say, because in case you didn't know, with my job as a teacher, I see enough people during the day, my social circle is kept to a minimum because I prefer quality over quantity, and most importantly, I'm a big boy and I live my life as I see fit."

His mother took a sip of coffee, set the cup down on the counter with a clatter, and replied, "I never thought my son, so full of quality, would become a homebody. So boring. What a disappointment."

Anthony knew his mother was being dramatic and didn't mean a word she said, she was just trying to provoke him until he gave in, so he took absolutely no offense.

He raised his eyebrows.

"If you find me boring, that's your problem, not mine."

"And when I'm gone, who's going to take care of your social life, right? You'll be all alone."

Oh, here we were. The feelings card.

He couldn't help but smile slightly and replied, "Mom, this may be hard for you to believe, but I like my solitude. And like I said, I have a few friends. You can count them on the fingers of one hand. But I have a few."

"At least give me one good reason, one real reason why you shouldn't come to this ball." His mother said as she went to refill her cup.

Anthony sighed, "If you must know, it's because I'm sure you want to set me up with some great party you found on Single.com or one of your dating apps."

His mother rolled her eyes.

"If that's all it is, just come with a date. It's as simple as that."

Anthony chuckled.

"Very funny, really."

His mother said in a softer tone, "I'm serious, you know. There must be someone whose company you can stand to spend an evening with."

Anthony immediately thought of someone, but did his best not to react.

Aziraphale.

No, don't think about it. He's just a friend. There's a big gap between being a friend and being someone's plus one for an event like this.

Forget about it.

"Ooooh, I see, so there is someone."

Damn, she really was too sharp.

His mother put down her cup, then came over and planted a kiss on his cheek before turning away.

"It's perfect. I'll wait for you and Aziraphale at the party."

"I never said it was Azi"

"Don't forget to remind your bookseller that formal wear is required."

"He's not my bookseller."

"You didn't deny it was about him, did you?"

"Mom..."

"I know, I know, honey."

Clack.

As quickly as she'd arrived, the hurricane that was his mother was gone.

She was probably already calling her friends to brag about having had the last word with her stubborn son.

Anthony buried his head in his hands. He would have to contact Aziraphale and risk jeopardizing one of the longest and best friendships of his life.

The longest and most beautiful, in fact.

To do so, he would have to try to ignore the feelings he had for his friend. Feelings that went far beyond simple friendship.

Easier said than done.

Anthony sighed once more before he picked up his phone and started typing.

*********

Aziraphale was sitting at a table at the Dirty Donkey with Nina, Maggie and Muriel when his cell phone began to vibrate.

He pulled it out of his pocket and, seeing who the message was from, quickly slid his thumb across the screen. He was so excited that he almost dropped the phone.

Nina noticed his fussiness and tried to look over his shoulder.

"I've never seen you in such a hurry to read a message. Who is it?"

"Oh, someone important, no doubt," Maggie replied before pulling Nina away to let Aziraphale read his message in peace.

Muriel, for their part, made no comment, just looked at him with a knowing smile, they knew him too well. They knew who could make Aziraphale react like that.

Aziraphale was astonished because, unlike Crowley's usual short, concise text messages, this one was so long that he had to scroll to get to the end.

His amazement grew as he read on.

His heart was beating faster as well.

But he chose to ignore it.

Aziraphale, you'll probably be surprised at what

I'm about to ask you, but I don't have the courage to ask you in person.

I don't know how else to say it, but I need your help.

Would you be willing to accompany me to my mother's fall charity gala?

It seems I can't avoid it this year, and while I'm at it, I'd rather go with a friend.

You, in this case.

Let me know your answer, and if it's positive, I'll send you the details.

Aziraphale swallowed. Several times.

He kept looking at the phone in his hand as he took a big gulp of sherry.

Then he read the message again. His heart was racing now.

He had forgotten that he wasn't alone and was startled when Nina said, "You're all red, Aziraphale."

Maggie giggled and nodded.

A hand came to rest on his arm and a soft voice said, "You look... happy."

He looked up to meet the eyes of his best friend, Muriel.

"Yes. I think... maybe..."

Unable to find the words, he handed them the phone.

Muriel read it, looking very focused, before exclaiming, "That's great, Aziraphale! It's a great opportunity."

Of course his friend and business partner would say that.

They were, after all, the one who had pushed him to approach Crowley the day he had first walked into the bookstore.

Six years ago. He'd just started working as an astrophysics teacher and was looking for old books. Then he'd come back several times just to see Aziraphale, and a deep friendship had developed. Crowley had become part of his little circle of friends, and not a week went by without them seeing each other. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with their friends.

It was only during exam periods like now that their meetings were far apart.

And no, Aziraphale didn't count the days. Or hours, for that matter.

"Come on, Aziraphale, don't keep it a secret."

Nina insisted, and he could see in Maggie's sparkling eyes that she was just as curious as her wife.

When Muriel handed the phone back, he hesitated for a moment, then finally passed it to Nina, who read the message as Maggie moved closer to read it at the same time.

"Aha... and are you going to say yes?"

Aziraphale didn't hide his astonishment at Nina and Maggie's lack of surprise.

"What? You think it's a secret that you have a crush on him?"

"Huh?"

Maggie continued, "There are even bets on which one of you will make the first move?"

"What?"

Dumbfounded, he glanced at Muriel, who shrugged.

"Neither of you are subtle."

"What do you mean?"

Maggie nodded, "Well, sometimes he looks at you like he hasn't eaten in days and you're the first meal he's seen."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I swear it's true!"

Nina nudged his shoulders and repeated, "So you'll answer yes?"

She added, insisting, "Do you realize this could be your chance?"

Maggie continued, "This could be a date!"

Aziraphale downed the rest of his sherry in one gulp and replied a little dizzily, "I certainly hope so."

He was far less certain as he prepared to answer a few moments later in the privacy of his apartment.

No matter how much he told himself not to get his hopes up, it was too late, and the only thing he could do was at least try to remain fairly neutral in his message.

Crowley, we're friends, you know you can ask me anything.

And knowing your mother, I'm guessing you fought bravely. 😛

I'm delighted to accept your invitation.

It will be an opportunity to spend an evening together,

we haven't seen each other for a month,

we'll have a lot to talk about.

Send me the details of the evening.

Good night!

Aziraphale hit 'send' immediately, before he had time to change his mind, placed his phone on the nightstand without waiting for a reply, and turned off the light.

Probably due to Sherry's overindulgence, he quickly fell asleep in a peaceful slumber whose dreams had the face of a teacher with red flaming hair and honey-colored eyes.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human AU #getting together

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chaiwithmybeloved · 7 hours ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader.

Description: Hitting (on) a stranger with a shopping cart was not on your grocery list.

Word count: 1k

The lights in this grocery store are too warm for your liking.

Too warm, too dim. You suppose it goes well with the aesthetic of the brand but it's almost fucking impossible to check the fine print on the imported pistachio spread that you've been holding for the last 15 minutes.

You cannot risk buying something so expensive without knowing when it expires. You grimace at the amount of produce in your cart that's going to cost a chunk of your paycheck and put the jar back on the shelf saying a silent goodbye.

Steering the trolley to the front of the store, the angel on your shoulder scolds you for thinking it was good idea to visit a gourmet grocery store.

In your defense, this place wasn't your first choice either. The regular grocery store was 5 miles closer to your place and handed out amazing discounts too, but—

"You're not going to believe who I saw at S-Mart."

"Was it..." Adjusting the phone between your shoulder and ear, your frowned as the layer of purple nail polish smeared on the skin of your toe. "...your biochem crush?"

Your friend sighs, "I wish. It was your ex-situationship, though. Anyways, I hope you've blocked him..."

Her voice fades and the carpet is stained purple.

No. You couldn't risk running into him, even if that's all you've wanted. So, you drive— 20 minutes out of your way— to be as far as possible from the bittersweet memories of the ice cream isle.

You almost hit someone with your cart. Panic sets inside you. What if it's some rich snob who would set their lawyers on you like a pack of dogs? It wasn't your fault the wheels were wobbly!

"I'm so sorry," you bend quickly, to pick up the fruit that had slipped from their hand. As you stand straight, a pair of formal shoes, khaki pants, a half tucked blue shirt and a loose tie meets your eyes.

"It's alright," the smooth voice has you looking up faster than your brain can process. "No harm done." Thin lips, gentle crook of his nose where a pair of spectacles rest, hiding his beautiful brown, maybe a little tired, eyes.

The devil on your shoulder calls you an embarrassment. You hold out your hand and he takes the apple, adding it to his cart. "Thank you."

A number of wooden carts are arranged before you, each containing different colours and varieties of apples; Fuji, Gala, Honey crisp, Kashmir—

Reaching out for the Granny Smith, you're impressed with how big they are. Instinctively, you smell them: sweet yet tart.

You add one to your shopping cart, eager to go home and taste it. The last batch your vendor had brought were pathetic—

"Excuse me, would you mind picking them out for me. I can't tell the good one's apart." The man asks, showing you his selection. Small and weirdly round with red streaks.

"Calville Blanc?"

He nods, "I've read that they have a high amount of Vitamin C."

You try not to fall on your knees. Beautiful and intelligent? Maybe gourmet grocery stores weren't so bad after all.

"They do," you select a few from the paper bag and replace them with better quality ones. "But if you're looking for Vitamin C, citrus fruits are the best."

He doesn't reply. Not for a whole minute. "My son—"

Oh. OH.

The angel slaps her forehead. You wanted to suck off a married man!

He doesn't have a ring. The devil makes a fair point.

"—doesn't like oranges. Or anything orange flavored. I've been trying to get his Vitamin C levels up."

"Does he like lemonade?" You try to maintain a normal conversation. He looks pretty young to have a child.

"Yeah," The stranger nods. "Will that help?"

You nod and hands rest on the handle of your shopping cart, feeling dirty for lusting after a married man. "It would be more pocket friendly than spending...5,499 ¥— shit, that's pricey."

Great, now he thinks you're broke. Clumsy and broke.

The man laughs and you get a warm feeling in your stomach. "That was my first thought too."

Two of you make it to the check out counter, standing behind an older, definitely richer, woman. Her cart is full, to the brim and the cashier looks like they're in pain.

"How old is he?" You ask. The blond falls for the marketing gimmicks, taking a cartoon keychain off the rack.

"Turns six, soon."

"If he's fond of apples, you could buy regular ones and squeeze some lemon juice on them."

The man nods, "Thank you. He's a picky eater but—"

"Every child is."

"Exactly."

You move ahead in the line and the cashier is relieved to see your minimalist cart.

"You should try Golden Plate on 5th street." A shameless self promotion. "They have customisable kids menu."

"That would make things a lot easier. Apparently, he hates everything nutritious," He sighs. A notification on his phone goes off and you get to see a glimpse of a pink haired child, smiling brightly with a floating tube around under his little chubby arms.

"You seem to know a lot about kids," The man clears his throat, unsure how to phrase his words.

"I know a lot about food," you correct him, looking back. "Sometimes I make meals for my colleague's daughter, so I know how to hide the greens."

The word tumbles right out of his mouth. "How—"

The cashier clicks some buttons. "Your total is..."

It physically hurts you to pull out your wallet and hand over the card. A quick swipe and you're being handed your paper bags.

The cool AC air greets you at the exit doors. Should you wait for him? The stranger has an unfairly gorgeous side profile as he unloads the cart items. You almost smile at the heart eyes the cashier gives him.

He doesn't look your way and you walk towards the parking lot.

The sunset looks prettier, the air seems lighter and like some cheesy sitcom lead, you hope that you get to see him again.

(Spoiler: you do.)

#divider from: @/cafekitsune #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami jjk #nanami kento fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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orisaspirin · 3 days ago

Text

My beloved's new worst low.

Pairing: Lucifer x MC Micah x Diavolo (implied)

Pairing: This is my Obey Me! AU, so much of it will be different from canon. Micah, an exchange student from the human world who's missing their memories of the said world, ends up climbing up the ladder of popularity among lust demons easily thanks to the demons having similar morality to humans. This doesn't go unnoticed by anyone but Lord Diavolo and his right hand man, the Avatar of Pride decide to act upon their… ‘concerns’ first.

Warnings: Minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Violence, murder, death, nsfw, consensual to dubious consent to non consent, non consensual voyeurism, implied background character deaths, choking, unhealthy dynamics, AFAB genderfluid Lucifer x AFAB non-binary MC, overstimulation, thigh riding, masochism and sadism, size kink, clothed sex, a few jokes about death and suicide.

Ding!

The notification sound of their DDD caught Micah's attention, a task Magical History classes have been failing to fulfill for about three hours so far. The dark brown walls and desks, confined space and lack of proper light sources aside from lamps and candles really created the perfect atmosphere to take a nap and the professor's monotonous voice didn't really help either. She would either explain the subject in unnecessarily great detail and end up missing the point entirely or a few demons on the front seats would start a conversation with her and nothing would be taught properly for that day. Micah couldn't blame their seatmates dozing off five minutes into the class, really. Not like the professor seemed to care anyway.

They yawned as their grayish blue eyes turned to their DDD. They opened their chats, bright red lips curling up into a smile as they read the name of the interrupter.

— Today at 17:36

Marcia

hey cupcake <3

Marcia, a succubus they've been friends with ever since the beginning of the exchange program. She had invited them to her and her friends’ table at lunchtime once when Mammon abandoned Micah and they ended up having a great time with the succubuses. They even exchanged their number with the lust demons and kept hanging out with them, eventually growing more and more popular with the lust demons.

Despite their housemates, the Avatars of Sin ‘expressing their concerns’ time and time again, Micah knew they weren't about to stop being friends with these girls anytime soon. Not only to spite the Brothers but because the succubuses were the only human part of the Devildom— not entirely human but close enough. They were just so easy to get along with. Micah didn't need to be reminded of the uncomfortable difference between morality of their world and the Devildom with the lust demons, which was like a miracle honestly.

Maybe it was because succubuses and incubuses worked closely with humans without having to feed on their flesh and soul? Micah thought to themself but shook their head as another argument arose from their mind. No, that couldn’t just be it. None of the demons they’ve met so far absolutely needed human flesh and soul to survive, it was just a luxury meal for them. Maybe kind of like how celebrities will add edible gold to their food and all…?

Oh well, no need to get too distracted now. They could simply discuss this with Mammon when they went home.

Micah

Hey Marciii (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

You're bored in class as well?

Marcia

i had mathematics so i didn't even bother going to class lol

i was meaning to ask, can you look for julissa after class?

me and the others tried texting and calling her but she's not answering.

usually i would just assume she overslept or something but you can't help but get worried after she shared those dumb photos, y'know what i mean?

Dumb photos? Micah was left confused before the realization stuck.

Julissa was a girl from their friend group who had taken a picture of Lucifer and Lord Diavolo walking side by side to the student council room and shared them on Devilgram, claiming she witnessed the two having sex afterwards. Of course it was all just a stupid joke but she still went into great detail— enough to believe her story if you're not careful about the plot holes. And of course, most social media users would rather die than be careful about what they read online so Julissa’s dumb little joke was spreading like wildfire these days.

No one seemed to be willing to talk about it out loud though, a smart decision considering how the Avatar of Pride would react to being made fun of. Mephistopheles losing his place as the President of the Newspaper Club just because of some stickers he drew of Lucifer and Lord Diavolo was merely a mild example of what could truly happen to lower ranking demons— demons, to put it quite frankly, no one could care less about.

Micah quickly typed an answer, putting their DDD on silent mode to prevent disturbing their seatmates. Normally, they couldn’t care less about some random sloth demons but there was a sloth demon they cared deeply for at the House of Lamentation. While Belphegor, the said sloth demon was used to sleeping through background noise, he would still get bratty about Micah paying attention to their DDD around him so putting it on silent mode around sleeping people somehow became a habit of theirs.

Micah

She didn't delete them??

Jeeeeeez is she suicidal or something?

I mean, even if she is, she should've just hung herself or something. Surely that would hurt less.

Marcia

beats me.

you're free to give her a good beating if you do find her though ;)

Micah

I'll keep that in mind ~

— End of conversation.

With a soft giggle, Micah turned off their DDD and began waiting for the end of the class, playing with their long, uneven and messy sandy blond strands impatiently. Luckily, the professor must've gotten bored as well and the class was dismissed ten minutes earlier than usual. Despite their growing impatience, they still decided to wait for their seatmates to wake up and gather up their belongings at their own pace.

While they could use magic to shove them away and protect themself if the demons decided to pick up a fight, Micah would very much rather not end up in Lord Diavolo’s office for something as stupid as this.

Honestly, they would rather not end up in Lord Diavolo's office for any reason. Even though their human world identity was still a mystery, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out they were bad with authorities. At least that was what Satan had to say about their rocky relationship with Lucifer (and the Avatar of Wrath never once tried to hide how ecstatic he was about it. Either that or Micah was good at reading people and wasn’t aware of it).

Pretty soon, their seatmates left the class and Micah had time to wave at the incubus and succubuses who stopped by their desk to say goodbye. Seemed like the brothers were right, after all. They were growing quite popular among lust demons and this would surely bring consequences sooner or later. They weren’t quite sure what their current relationship with the Avatars was– Mammon would brag about being their ‘first’, Asmo and Satan would ask them out on dates and the rest of the brothers all would make advances in their own ways and Micah, being the attention glutton that they are, would happily accept it all but no one really confirmed anything.

If they were dating all of the brothers at the same time, being too popular with lust demons would put their friends in danger for sure.

Knowing this and still hanging out with their friends was selfishness, was it not? Why were they doing this anyway, to spite the brothers? They made up all of their problems months ago so still holding a grudge felt childish honestly…

Hey, just when did this chain of thought turn from why they didn’t want to be sent to Lord Diavolo’s office for causing trouble in class to their relationship status?

Whatever– this too would have to be discussed another time when they have the time to disassociate properly. Probably not anytime soon though. They had a grasp on the dynamic of House of Lamentation by now and they could say for sure they would never have one minute of alone time this afternoon or night.

With a small sigh, Micah stood up and threw their bookbag on their shoulder, the charms and keychains attached to it jingling as they moved. Most of them were anime characters like Ruri-chan (who they admittedly grew attached to, even though they were nowhere near Levi’s level), May the Maid and so on. Micah thought it was funny how they absolutely did not fit in with their surroundings.

As they walked through the gothic structure each step ached their knees, reminding them about the… accident they had while walking downstairs during lunch time today. And yesterday. And the day before that.

Tripping on stairs was a common occurrence for them, so much so that the demons they’ve befriended, the Avatars and even the other exchange students would offer them help to prevent any injuries or embarrassing moments. They stopped wearing skirts just for this reason (meaning their glitter band aids were hidden underneath their pants. A shame, really) but still, better safe than sorry. If that meant anything in this realm, that is.

As they passed the demons on their way to leave the building, they began thinking about where to look for Julissa first. She was a part of many clubs, which was probably why Marcia thought she had to be somewhere in RAD. She absolutely despised not being on time and missing club meetings and activities, so much so that she would force herself to attend RAD even when she’s sick. Micah didn’t have the succubus's schedule memorized and they didn’t have enough time to go through the entire building before one of the brothers come looking for them but they could text someone to–

Ding!

Another notification caught Micah’s attention, forcing them to snap out of their thoughts. They took their DDD out of their pocket and turned it on. Wasn’t it on silent mode when they got out of class…?

— Today at 18:02

Lucifer

Meet me at the Devildom History class right now.

Don’t be late.

Ah. This made sense, Lucifer probaby charmed their DDD when he noticed how often it would be on silent mode. They couldn’t help but groan and roll their eyes at the demanding attitude as they texted a reply.

Micah

Why?

I have more important shit to do.

Lucifer

I highly doubt that.

You have five minutes until I confiscate your DDD. I’m quite certain it wouldn’t be the ideal if you wish to protect your high score on Ruri Tunes.

Oh shit. Teaching him about Ruri Tunes was a mistake, both Micah and Levi knew that but Micah never thought the eldest could ever use it as a weapon like this. On the other hand though, whatever he has in store must be quite urgent if he’s not even willing to wait for a bit longer despite knowing about their clumsiness with stairs. With a sigh, they texted a reply.

Micah

Fiiiiiiine.

I’ll be there right up.

— End of conversation.

And just as they promised, they were standing at Devildom History class’s door three minutes after their chat with Lucifer. Somehow they managed to walk the entire way without tripping or bumping into someone once— the fear of losing Ruri Tunes gave them the dedication and strength needed to do so for sure.

Lucifer opened the door right when they were about to knock, causing Micah to jump in their place. They really needed to get used to demons and their needlessly advanced senses…

“Come in.” The Avatar of Pride led them inside the class, his hand still hovering over the handle as he shut the door. Silently eyeing him up and down, Micah could see the eldest brother’s uniform was wrinkled and his hair was a bit out of place— something he would never allow to happen in the first place. His concealer and eyeliner was messed up as well, revealing the bags under his eyes staining his porcelain-like skin. He almost reminded them of Beel after a Fongol practice… Just what could’ve happened that forced him to be in this state? If his brothers created trouble yet again, the entire school would be aware so whatever happened must’ve been either minor or well hidden. However, their words died in their throat before they could even ask anything when they turned around.

There, sitting on one of the front desks with her face planted on the table was none other than Julissa herself. She seemed to be unconscious as she didn’t even budge when Micah entered the room. Shock crossed their face, their mouth dropping open slightly as they froze in their place, their book bag slipping off of their shoulder with a soft thud.

They knew Julissa’s dumb joke wouldn’t go without a punishment but this just felt too soon, too sudden and too much. They tried not to think about what that punishment could be and kept telling themself it would be something mild— like detention, a social media ban or something. A part of them knew their denial lulled them into a false sense of security, that each lie they told themself would only add weight to the truth they would have to face later on but this was…

They weren’t prepared for this.

“No…” They mumbled, their mind too busy to even notice they were talking out loud.

No, there had to be a misunderstanding. This had to be a detention or something, nothing even slightly close to what they thought. They were fine with joking around about the bloodshed they’ve witnessed in the Devildom but they dreaded even the thought of being a part of it. Even if it was just some random nobody who got too comfortable with social media, they didn’t want to be the one to let go of the rope of the guillotine.

Just as they turned to Lucifer in a pathetic attempt to get reassurance, the Avatar of Pride wrapped an arm around their waist, pulling them closer to his large frame as his other hand held their chin up, forcing them to stare at the unconscious lust demon. Somehow the room felt icy but they could feel their temperature building up, causing their knees to give out. But of course, Lucifer didn’t allow them to fall.

“Take a deep breath.” Said the Avatar of Pride, his voice as gentle as a lullaby. As if he was a mother helping her child stand on his own for the first time. They've never heard him talk to anyone like this before but unfortunately, their mind was too loud to even process it. “Repeat after me.” He learned down, his lips hovering over their ear. His whisper and hot breath only added on to their dizziness. “One… two…”

“NO!” Micah screamed, ripping the Avatar's arms off of their body and desperately rejecting the fact that they weren't strong enough to push him off, he simply allowed it to happen. They turned to Lucifer and took a few steps back to face him properly. “I— I…” They stammered, grayish blue irises burning into crimson ones as they searched for the right words. The Avatar of Pride looked at them with an undeniable fondness, a look that could force Micah to pray for death right then and there.

They were pathetic.

They needed more time. They just needed more time to prepare themself for this.

“I refuse to be a part of this!” They declared but the weakness of their voice was enough to make them cringe visibly. “This is your job, isn't it? Why do I have to be a part of it?”

No, no, no, it was only getting worse— the crack of their voice, the small sob they let out at the end of that sentence; each and every single evidence of vulnerability they failed at hiding felt like a slap on the face. Adding on to Lucifer's gentleness, they couldn't help but feel like a whiny toddler refusing to do his homework.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

Why? Why did it have to be now? Why couldn't he just wait for them to prepare themself?

The Avatar of Pride didn't budge at all, much like they expected. He put his hands on their hips and pulled them close to his chest, their bodies flushed together with no space between them. Micah could hear the Avatar’s heartbeat in his chest; at least a hundred times slower than theirs. He wrapped his arms around them, one arm holding them in place by wrapping around their waist, the other not so subtly groping their behind. They punched the Avatar and screamed their protests into his chest, the leather uniform jacket drowning out their voice so fast they couldn't even hear themself.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer spoke up again, his words causing Micah to pause and look up to him. “I know you weren't ready,” He continued as he began petting their head, pushing the blond strands off of their tanned skin. “but it's alright. You will be okay.” He smiled, a smile Micah couldn't find anything but cruelty behind despite its tenderness.

It was cruel mockery, it had to be. Nothing was going to be okay after this.

“Liar!” Micah snapped back. “I don't have to be a part of this! I don't want to!” They screamed, blinking away the tears that threatened to break out of them.

This was pathetic.

They had to die right then and there.

For the sake of whatever pride they had left, they had to drop dead right in that moment.

The Avatar turned them around to face the succubus and held both of their hands, leading them closer and closer to the girl. “Take a deep breath.” He said once again. “Repeat after me. One…” He said, holding Micah tightly in place expectantly.

This was ridiculous. He couldn't just comfort them like a fucking baby and make them kill someone— someone who's only crime was literally just joking around!

Though if they didn't play along, they would end up competing against Lucifer himself in a battle of wills and probably lose. Even if they did win, what could they do? The usual? Deny this ever happened, gaslight themself into believing it was all a bad dream or a misunderstanding and go through the same embarrassment all over again some other time? As long as they were a part of the Devildom, they would have to play by demons' rules and morals. They would have to spill the blood one way or another.

“One.” Micah repeated, their voice barely loud enough to be a whisper. Lucifer took a step closer to the unconscious succubus with Micah wrapped tightly in his arms.

“Two.” Said the Avatar, his hand not so sneakily fiddling with Micah's uniform jacket's buttons. Micah let it happen, even leaned their head back into Lucifer's chest when the dizziness threatened to take over once again.

Deep breaths. One, two, three, four.

Don't think about it. For the love of God, don't think about it. Pretend you're doing something else. Anything. Just pretend you're not taking her life.

Even thinking about what was going to happen made them want to throw up.

Still, they kept counting with Lucifer

“Two.” This time, their voice was just a bit louder as well. The Avatar took off their jacket and threw it on his shoulder, quickly wrapping his arms back around them and fiddling with their collar this time.

“Three.” Lucifer kept counting, leading Micah one step closer to their unconscious victim while doing so. He undid Micah's (already not worn properly) tie easily and threw that on his shoulder as well.

Was he growing impatient or was Micah imagining things?

“Three.” Micah repeated, taking one more step closer to end up in front of the desk. Lucifer gently took both of their hands and brought them to his lips to kiss their knuckles before grabbing their wrists. He led their hands to grab the succubus's shoulders, first pushing her up to face her properly and then wrapping their hands around her throat.

And just like that, taking deep breaths proved itself to be useless.

“I can't, I can't, I can't!” They screamed, repeating the same word like a mantra. “Just call Barbatos or something! Please!” Lucifer leaned down as they cried out and hid his face on the crook of their neck. They could feel feather-light kisses around their neck and shoulders as well as gentle humming of the Avatar.

“You can.” Lucifer replied firmly. “You may not be strong enough to eliminate a demon all on your own but you have magic to make up for it.”

He was playing dumb. He had to be. He knew why Micah couldn't do it.

But why? Why was he standing here, listening to them cry and scream about not wanting to kill this random nobody? Was he taking some kind of sadistic joy out of this?

Was that why he looked so messed up? Did he chase this succubus just for the thrill of it?

“Why me?!” Micah tried to break out of the Avatar's grasp but to their surprise, he didn't let them go this time. His grip on them tightened and while it didn't hurt, it applied just enough pressure to let them know they weren't leaving anytime soon. “Why can't you just choose someone else?” They groaned, a small gasp escaping they lips mid-sentence as they felt Lucifer sucking a hickey into the part of their neck their uniform failed to cover. The way it made their heart flutter only added on to their disgust but they couldn't deny it felt nice.

“Stop.” They cried out, their distress gaining a soft chuckle from Lucifer. “I can't.” The answer was short and clear. “You have to learn.” He added, his knee slowly pressing on their crotch. Micah shut their eyes tight, as though actually trying to disappear. Their distress was overshadowed by Lucifer's affection and at this point, they've accepted that resisting wouldn't do anything. They just wanted to know why.

Before they would ask again, Lucifer answered their question for them.

“Despite living with demons you're still attempting to cling onto a fake sense of humanity.” He whispered against their ear as he began rubbing his knee against them back and forth. “Me and Diavolo have been observing your…” He leaned closer to Micah, his chest flushed into their back. “...growth ever since the beginning of the Exchange Program. Yet I must admit, we both have been failing at keeping a professional distance with you for a while now.” He ‘confessed’. For Micah, he merely stated a matter of fact; they were more or less aware of the Avatar of Pride and the Prince’s infatuation for them yet they refused to acknowledge it as anything serious.

“And I think we all know who’s at fault for that.” The Avatar stared down at Micah, the accusing tone gaining a groan from them. This wasn’t their fault. None of this was.

They just needed more time! If they had more time, they would definitely plan for this. Definitely.

“Nonetheless, we noticed your lack of boundaries with lower demons such as this,” He urged Micah to strengthen their grip on the succubus's throat. “and decided to use it as an example.”

All because they gave in to their denial, huh?

“It crossed a boundary that’s been made clear countless times.” He continued, taking advantage of Micah’s resilience breaking apart. “Disrespecting Lord Diavolo would result in a punishment it couldn’t even dream of so it should be glad it’s going out by your hand.”

For a moment, Micah’s mind seemed to calm down. Like they finally reached a solution. They would try again. After this kill, they would be prepared. They would observe their surroundings, calculate and study their interactions with their housemates, other exchange students and the royals carefully. They could forget about this kill— forget it ever happened and try again.

Just forget about it.

Act like it never happened.

And try again.

With those words going through their mind, Micah finally choked the succubus.

Lucifer hummed with a pleased manner as the succubus’s body went limp and fell back on the desk. With one arm still wrapped around Micah’s waist to support them, he grabbed their jacket from his shoulder and threw it over the succubus, catching their tie just in time to put it aside. As expected, the jacket did a quite poor job hiding the dead body.

Though it was endearing, how small Micah was even when next to lower demons. With a soft sigh, he picked Micah up and sat them down on the desk next to where the succubus laid.

He held up his lover's chin with his thumb and index finger, taking in just how disconcerted they looked. Grayish blue eyes wide and unfocused, brows furrowed and lips shut tight as they hugged their body tight, still trembling from the fright. Seeing them like this was endearing though, they reminded him of his brothers after their first kills. At the time, seeing his loved ones in this state was devastating but now he was glad to have the experience. He gently grabbed Micah’s wrists and wrapped their arms around him, letting them hug him as tight as they could.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “You will be okay. Just let me handle this.” And luckily for him, Micah nodded against his chest, probably too tired to keep fighting. Either that or they just didn’t care anymore. He has been through both of these scenarios with his brothers and at the end, they always learned to play by the Devildom’s rules and let go of their weaknesses. While observing their interactions with his brothers, he noticed Micah fit in just fine with them so hopefully they would turn out the same. And if they didn’t, well, he and Diavolo would have plenty of time to fix that.

Just as he was about to dissociate, he felt Micah’s hands slowly unzipping his pants. Their head was still buried in his chest and turned away from the dead body and while it was uncharacteristic of them, he could understand that they wanted some kind of distraction. Distraction that he was more than happy to provide.

With his lips curling up into a wolfish smirk, he took his DDD out of his pocket and texted his best friend.

— Today at 18:53

Lucifer

Make sure the door is locked this time.

Ignoring the replies sent not even a second later, he video called Diavolo and set his device on silent mode. He put his DDD back inside his pocket afterwards but both he and Diavolo had charmed their devices to act as a type of portal a long time ago so he was quite certain his friend could see everything as clear as day.

He took off his jacket and covered the dead body lying beside them with it after gently pushing Micah off of himself, wanting them to be as comfortable as possible despite the unideal circumstances. He then unzipped his pants and lowered them just slightly above his knees and let his turtleneck and gloves stay on. While he was busy with his own clothing, Micah had unbuttoned his shirt and carelessly threw it aside, gaining a small sigh from the Avatar.

“Y— You’re okay like that?” They asked, pointing at his turtleneck and gloves. “Aren’t you gonna feel…” They paused. “Uncomfortable?”

Lucifer, too distracted by the sight of their bare, tanned skin, merely shook his head as an answer. Their habit of falling down the stairs made itself clear even on their chest, they had small cuts and bruises everywhere but especially on their shoulders and arms.

He ran his hands over their marks, his touch as gentle and light as a feather and crimson eyes glimmering with what could only be described as infatuation.

Micah hesitated for a moment but slowly eased into his touch though they still didn’t move closer to him. He traced the mark he left on their neck and pressed a kiss on their sandy blond hair before undoing their belt and slipping off their shoes and pants. Before he could leave them aside properly, his lover grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. He gladly obliged and wrapped his arms around him, feeling up their back as he drowned them in passion and arousal. He has been dreaming of this moment for so long and now that it was finally happening, it was even better than his dreams. Their lips were so soft against his yet their passion equaled his as well. They had to hold tightly onto his shoulders to keep up with him, truly emphasizing just how weak they were against him. His pretty little lamb lying there just for him.

He broke the kiss only when he felt Micah was running out of breath and pulled away to drink in how much he ruined them already. Their cheeks were a beautiful shade of red, their eyes teary and sparkling with the glow of his affection and still wanting more. “I love you, my little lamb.” He said as he reached for their panties, already wet and sticky. Black with red polka dots and lace decorating it, something Diavolo would favor for sure. He could only imagine what the Prince must be feeling at the moment. They would be lucky if the Devildom was still standing when they went further.

He slipped their underwear off of their legs and right when he was about to put it aside as well, Micah stopped him with a sly smirk. “Keep it.” They said, “Put it in your pocket or something. A little gift to remember today, y’know what I mean?” They winked, gaining a soft chuckle from Lucifer. “Oh? Well I do appreciate the thought, my dear, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken if you thought this merely a one time affair.” He replied and without waiting for their reaction, grabbed their thighs and threw their legs over his shoulders. He slowly licked their clit, electing a soft gasp from his beloved as he dug his fingers on their soft thighs. The pleasure was already overwhelming, they were already rocking their hips back and forth to get more. Luckily, Lucifer was more than willing to spoil them.

Already out of patience, he dug his tongue deeper into his lover’s pussy, licking and sucking them greedily as they trembled underneath him. They could already feel their stress washing away as they relaxed into the wooden desk— it wasn’t comfortable at all but Lucifer was doing everything just right to make them feel like they were floating. “Fuck— Lucifer, keep going!” They cried out, pulling their hair in a desperate attempt to ground themself. The pain only added on to their arousal however, leading them to tightening their grip on their scalp. The Avatar glanced at his lover, letting out a soft chuckle that stimulated them even more. They were writhing underneath him, trembling with pleasure helplessly and he could already feel his own panties soaking.

He brought one hand close to Micah’s lips and pushed his fingers inside their mouth without warning, forcing his lover to suck and choke on the leather gloves. Their hands abruptly abandoned their scalp and wrapped around the Avatar’s wrist instead, desperately trying to push him away even a little bit as they gagged on his fingers going deeper and deeper into their throat.

He kept eating them out like it was his last meal alive and pretty soon, his lover screamed around his fingers, muffled noises vaguely resembling his name. Before he could even ask if they were close, Micah’s orgasm crashed them down, their nails clawing Lucifer’s arm desperately as they rode through their ecstasy. Their eyes rolled back into their skull, they were trembling with pleasure and their dizziness was coming back to them— although somehow it was much more pleasurable like this.

Lucifer licked their juices slowly, so slow that it felt like torture. Right when Micah was about to try to kick him, he took his fingers out of their mouth to hold their thighs and bite into them. His teeth drew blood easily and he licked it just as ecstatically as before. It was so painfully easy to draw blood from them, he didn’t even have to use any jaw strength to bite down.

“Lucifer— Lucifer fucking stop!” They screamed, pulling their hair once again to help them through the overstimulation. Their protests were left unanswered though, the Avatar didn’t even wait for a minute before he pushed his own panties down and climbed onto the desk to ride their thighs. He wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled them into a hot makeout session, moving his hips back and forth and he chased his own orgasm. “I can’t, my love—” He confessed as he broke the kiss. “—not when you feel so good…” He added, completely blissed out with pleasure. One of his hands grabbed both of Micah’s wrists and held them down as the other found its way into their clit and began rubbing it teasingly. His lover threw their head back, screaming out in overwhelming ecstasy and bucking their hips into Lucifer’s touch. They weren’t even sure what they wanted— everything was too much but also too good.

“We’ll go for a second round.” Lucifer said between his moans, whispering into Micah’s ear as they were trying to ride another reaching orgasm. “Then a third…” He kissed their shoulder. “Then a fourth… then maybe I can calm down a bit.”

— Today at 20:34

Diavolo

One missed call.

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gaysparkler · 19 hours ago

Text

Fair Quiet, have I found thee here

Title from Andrew Marvell's "The Garden" Read on AO3 Spoilers for the choice directly following "A Warden's Best Friend" under the cut!

Rook was pacing. Emmrich could hear them go from room to room withing the Lighthouse – and no doubt in the courtyard, though there was no way he could be certain. There had been an air of disquiet around them, and that, Emmrich could say with certainty, was due to the number of difficult decisions they had been forced to make. As a Watcher, Emmrich knew how sheltering the Grand Necropolis could be. The “choice” boiled down to which classes to take, which role to ascend to, which tasks to do for the day, what to eat for each meal.

Not which city should be saved, and which should burn. Not thrusted with the fate of the world in their hands.

Emmrich wondered if he could even handle it half as well as Rook had, though part of him wondered how much was hidden away from them all. From him, despite his and Rook’s not-so surprising closeness.

Perhaps, then, it was not surprising to see Rook push past the doors to the laboratory, their dark circles remarkably worse than usual. The door closing behind them was heavy and loud in the previous quiet of his reading. They stood in the middle of the laboratory and fidgeted with their glove in silence, mouth twisted in a frown. The sound of Emmrich’s book closing seemed to make Rook remember why they were here.

“Could I help you with anything, Emmrich?” They spoke again before Emmrich could answer. “Please, I just—I need…something normal. Something real.”

In the dim light of the room, Emmrich could see tears pearling in Rook’s eyes. He carefully set his book aside before standing and gently approaching them, as if the wrong move would send them running.

“It’s not much,” he said as he extended a tentative hand towards Rook, “but there are some bones that could use some sorting.”

Rook let go of their glove to grasp Emmrich’s hand, and nodded. A tear slipped. Emmrich watched it slide down their cheek, leaving a trail of kohl in its wake. Before he could think, he raised his other hand to Rook’s face and caught the tear with his thumb.

“I—” he stammered, “please forgive me—”

But Rook only closed their eyes and leaned into his touch, wisps of jet-black hair falling across their features, weightlessly. Emmrich heard them take a slow breath in, and out.

“I can handle some sorting,” they finally said, keeping their eyes closed. “I wouldn’t be worth much as a Watcher if I couldn’t.”

“Now, now. None of that.” He tapped Rook’s cheekbone with his thumb before slowly sliding his hand away from their face so he could fetch the adorned box containing the unidentified bones he had brought with him from the Necropolis. He carefully placed it on his examination table, and gently tipped it over so the bones would spill, without rolling too far, on the marble. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rook worrying at their bottom lip. The weight of the world, on such delicate shoulders…

“Right,” he said, cheerfully. “We’re all set!”

Manfred, on the second floor, gave an excited hiss. And that was what Rook needed to crack the smallest of smiles. They made their way to the table, on Emmrich’s opposite side, and the moment they started their work, the tension in their face and body disappeared. Something normal, usual. Something that did not generate an impossible amount of doubt, guilt, and hypothetical similes.

“Thank you,” Rook whispered without looking at him, their voice rough with tears.

“You are most welcome, my dear,” he replied as he watched their fingers deftly and carefully handling each individual bone, and already beginning to separate them in neat categories. In that moment, Emmrich wished he could have seen Rook fully in their environment, in the Necropolis. To see them fully immersed in their work, how their necromantic talents manifested outside of combat, know them as they are—pressures of apocalypse removed. But would that truly be the person in front of him now?

Emmrich finally reached forward, his fingers brushing against Rook’s, and joined them in their meticulous sorting.

Their work finished and laid out in precise reconstructions (partial, in some cases) on Emmrich’s slab before them, Rook finally looked up at him, and to his heartbreak, fear remained in their eyes. Emmrich laid his hand on one of few cleared areas of the table, his palm up and inviting.

“Rook?” he softly called. Their hand found his.

“Pénthos,” they said almost in a whisper. “My name.”

An old Nevarran word, before the trade tongue was favoured.

Mourning.

Their dark eyes, sunken in purple deep as bruises, said everything he needed to know.

Do not let this be forgotten. I beg you.

“Pénthos,” Emmrich repeated, inclining his head towards them. “You look tired. You should sleep.”

They scoffed. “Everyone’s been telling me that.”

“Then that should provide you with enough evidence to lend it credibility.”

“I know that,” Rook—Pénthos sighed, “I know…that I should sleep. I just—I can’t.”

And just like that, the tension that Emmrich worked (not so) hard to dispel returned to their body. Pénthos began fidgeting with their gloves again and picking at their lip—and it broke his heart. He wished so dearly there was something, anything he could do to help once more and then—

Manfred appeared behind them, holding a tray of freshly brewed tea.

“Well,” Emmrich said, “may I invite you to stay for tea?”

Pénthos smiled again, the brightest thing he had seen all day (save maybe for Manfred’s jewelled eyes, but he would tell neither—not yet, anyway) and replied, “I would love to.”

“I have heard that resting with good company can almost be as beneficial as a night’s sleep.”

Pénthos chuckled. “Did you, now?”

“I have, of course, my sources!” Emmrich pointed to a specific section of the many bookshelves lining the walls, somewhere on the second floor. Pénthos’ smile turned into a full laugh, and the lines of tension slipped away, even if just for a moment.

#emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #mourn watcher rook #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers #pénthos ingellvar #my writing #emmthos #these two are truly my muses right now. i have so many ideas and this is just the beginning......#after my dnd friends are done playing the game i'll post my super long one #though there's another in the meanwhile i could post as well!!!#thank you andrew marvell. all your poetry is about emmthos now #character going by their last name/alias revealing their first name is one of my favourite tropes of all time #the pénthos lore will reveal itself in due time

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