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my-soul-sings · 3 years

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kiss the girl: ch 8 (final)

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | epilogue

You can read this on AO3, see the replies to this post for the AO3 link.

***

“Kiss the girl.”

The chapter title was as good as clickbait when he first saw it, but Artem was naturally drawn towards that section while skimming through the pages of the book.

Not because he wants to do that , necessarily. (At least, not for now.) Anyway, the section wasn’t actually about kissing the girl. It was more about suggestions to try some skinship, as a simple way to tell whether she liked him back or not.

The obvious problem for Artem is that he doesn’t quite know how to execute it. He simply can’t think of any reason that would make it appropriate for him to touch her, unless there’s some kind of emergency involved.

The closest he had ever gotten was when they had a photo at a team dinner, and everyone was resting their arms around each other’s shoulders. She was no exception as she stood next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder and smiling for the photo with ease. And all he could manage was an awkward hand hover above the sleeve of her blouse. He might have tapped her on the shoulder when they pulled away after the photo taking, but that had only been an accident.

So, all in all, Artem isn’t sure how he could put his virgin hands to use.

The good thing is, since she started coming over to his place for dinner more frequently, it’s been giving him ample opportunities to put this in action.

The first time Artem decides to muster up his courage, it’s to teach her how to hold a knife properly.

“Keep your fingers curled in, and hold it tightly, like so.” Afraid she’ll accidentally cut herself, he steps behind her, uttering a gentle word of warning before delicately placing his hands over hers to personally demonstrate how to dice the onions more safely and efficiently.

He’s never stood this close to her before, which itself is making him nervous enough to wonder if he might accidentally cut both of their fingers… That wouldn’t make for much of a romantic evening.

It’s hard to tell whether she’s okay with him holding her like this, especially since he can’t see her face from here. The only thing he has to go on is her body language—and there’s no indication of discomfort with their proximity. In fact, he swears that she leaned back slightly in response, just enough for her shoulder blades to rest against his chest. It’s probably a good sign that she doesn't hate it, at least. He can only hope that she can’t feel his racing heartbeat from that feathery light contact.

Artem knows he should be focusing on the onions, but part of his mind is straying to the fact that her frame is small, compared to his, and that it’d be so easy to just wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

…He knows it’d be just as easy to land himself a criminal charge for outrage of modesty.

In a desperate bid to keep himself from trying anything funny, Artem keeps his eyes wide open, punishing himself with the sting from the onions.

It burns. His eyes are welling up with tears, and his vision is getting blurry. It’s hard to see where he’s aiming the knife. At this rate, a chunk of his fingers will go into the food.

“I think I’ve got this,” she says then, putting a timely end to his panicking. He immediately releases her hands and puts some space between them, the cold air in place of her warm body making him feel a little hollow inside.

The sound of the knife hitting the chopping board resumes, albeit slower than before. He watches her from the side, smiling at the way she’s so intently focused on mimicking his form and what he’d just taught her only seconds ago.

She’s a quick learner, as she has always been. Before long, the rest of the onion is diced perfectly and she looks at him with a proud grin. “I did it!”

“Good job,” he smiles in return, but then her expression falters the moment she gets a good look at his face. “Artem, your eyes are red… Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. The sting will go away eventually,” he dismisses, blinking away his tears.

“You’re that touched from watching me cut onions?” she laughs, grabbing a tissue and stepping towards him. Before he can figure out what’s happening, she pushes his hand away to keep him from rubbing at his eyes, and instead uses the tissue to dab his tears away gently.

He almost forgets to breathe. It’s the knowledge that if he leans forward enough, he can brush his lips against her forehead. It’s the way she’s training her gaze so intently on him, and how tender her fingers feel on his face.

He watches the amused gleam in her eyes as she carefully, lightly taps at the corners of his stinging eyes.

She’s beautiful.

“Artem, your face is turning red. Is it getting worse? Maybe you should wash your face. It could help.”

Her blunt observation makes him flinch and withdraw from her, his face burning as if he had just been caught streaking naked in public.

“Y-Yes. You’re right.” The words come out sort of muffled, he thinks. He’s not sure. His tongue feels weird and it’s hard to speak.

With an almost mechanical nod, he promptly turns around and heads straight to the bathroom, ready to douse his face with a lot of cold water.

***

Lately, you’ve noticed a marked difference with Artem. Before, he was your awkward boss who couldn’t even muster up the courage to join in on your conversations with your colleagues in the office, opting instead to eavesdrop from the pantry while stirring on his ninth cup of coffee for the day.

But now, he’s become braver; bolder. It hasn’t escaped your notice how he’s been taking the initiative to move things along in your relationship, to test the boundary line between the both of you that has been blurring away like smudged chalk lines on a board.

It’s in the increasingly frequent invitations to spend time with him outside of the office, and the ease he now has in asking you out. It’s also the way he’s been slowly edging into the territory of physical touch. There’s nothing improper or scandalous about it; just simple and light touches, like when he gently nudges you away from the main road and for him to walk on the outer side of the pavement, or when his hand presses against your shoulder to keep you close to him on a crowded, bustling street.

He doesn’t go any further than that of course; the Artem Wing you know and love is a gentleman.

That is, until the time when he practically hugged you from behind on the pretext of showing you how to dice onions properly.

You can’t help but laugh every time you recall the memory.

You could tell he was nervous then—his fingers were trembling ever so slightly, making you worried that he would end up cutting himself. But with the sound of his voice right by your ear, that minor detail was forgotten quickly. Your body had tensed up from the surprise, although you couldn’t contain the happy smile that spread across your face. It was a good thing he couldn't see.

You remember his hands too—they were large and warm. Maybe just a tad sweaty too. You didn’t blame him; yours had been as well.

As awkward as Artem became shortly afterwards—maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much about tearing up from the onion gas—it was all you needed to know that it was safe to start making advances of your own.

You start off innocently enough: standing close to him when you’re alone together, shoulder to shoulder. It’s easy enough when you’re both in his kitchen cooking in silence. He used to shrink away out of reflex, but now he just stays in place and even allows the back of your hands to touch.

Once that’s done, you take things up a notch: adjusting his tie for him on the rare occasion that it’s slightly off-centre, taking his hand in crowded places instead of having him hold you by the shoulder, and running your fingers through his hair with the excuse of, “There’s something in your hair.”

Artem acclimatises quicker than you expect him to. Of course, he started off shy, stuttering in his words of “thanks” and unable to meet your eyes properly immediately after, but now he’s become more comfortable around you. Natural, even. He’ll smile when you fix his tie for him—and sometimes you wonder if he comes into the office with a crooked tie on purpose, knowing that you’ll be more than willing to help fix it. At other times, he’ll help to tuck stray strands of your hair behind your ear when your hands are preoccupied with something else.

As the weeks go by, the distance between you gradually lessens. And then one day, when Artem drives you home after dinner at his place, you decide you’ll take another big leap forward.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Artem says as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Would you like breakfast tomorrow?”

“Together? Sure, I’d love to. But,” your expression turns firm, “don’t get up earlier just to make me a lunchbox or something. You need to sleep more; you’ve been working too hard lately.”

A sheepish look crosses his face, which confirms that he had been planning on doing that after all. “I don’t mind—”

“I’ll make us breakfast tomorrow,” you cut in. “And if it fails, I’ll grab some takeout and pretend I made it. Okay?” The tone of your voice indicates that you won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, so after a moment’s deliberation, Artem shakes his head with a resigned smile.

“Alright.”

“Great. Thanks for sending me home, Artem. Good night.”

You’re about to open your door when the engine of the car shuts off. You glance over at Artem, who’s in the middle of unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

“Huh?” you ask, taking some time to process his words. “You don’t have to. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s late. I want to make sure that you get home safe. Please?”

You want to protest, but who are you to deny him when he asks so sweetly? Besides, it’s not like it’ll take too long, and knowing Artem, he won’t rest easy without knowing that you’re home safe and sound.

“Alright then.” You exit the car at the same time as he does, and then he accompanies you into the lift and all the way to the front door of your apartment.

“Drive safe, okay? You look really tired,” you remark, eyes lingering on the heavy under-eye circles beneath his eyes. There’s a trial in three days so the both of you have been busy preparing for it over the past couple of nights. And there’s still so much left to do… The thought of the pile of work left to do fills you with dread.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. ‘Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”

“You too. Good night, Artem.”

That’s supposed to be your cue to enter your apartment, and his cue to leave. But neither of you move from your spots. A few seconds pass with the both of you staring expectantly at each other, before you both break into laughter.

“You… should go in,” he tells you, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“And you should be going back to your car.”

“I’ll go after you go inside.”

“I’ll go inside after you leave.”

He chuckles at that. “It looks like we’re at an impasse.”

“Seems that way.” You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, but you also know how stubborn Artem can be—he’ll be like an immovable boulder until he watches you enter your house and lock the door behind you.

Just as you’re struggling to think of a way to outsmart him, an idea pops into your head. A devious, cunning idea that makes you hesitate at first.

But then your gaze falls on Artem again, and then all hesitation disappears without a trace.

Your body begins to move naturally, one step, then another, until you’re face to face with him. Extending both hands, you place them on his neck and raise yourself on your tip-toes to press your lips to his cheek.

Artem doesn’t move. He simply stays frozen in his spot, his eyes blown wide when you pull away and flash him a coy smile.

“I’ll go in now. Good night. See you tomorrow.” With that, you close the door, and the last thing you see is his face, still frozen in shock.

Hopefully he can drive home safely after this. In the meantime, you start thinking about what to make for breakfast tomorrow.

***

Artem is disoriented.

He can’t really remember what happened after he left her house, other than that he’d somehow managed to make it back down to the ground floor and into his car. For the rest of the drive back home, his memory is fuzzy; his mind had been solely trained on the lingering impression of her lips against his cheek, until he heard a loud honk and realised that he was about to knock into a cyclist who was crossing the road at a red light.

In the heat of the moment, he had to swerve left and jam his brakes… which caused him to crash into a lamp post.

Which is why he’s currently in the hospital, being assessed by the doctor for injuries. He had to give a police statement earlier, and the officer informed him that he’ll probably be let off with a fine and a warning since no one got injured, but he’ll just have to pay the costs of repairing the lamp post. The doctor also informs him that he doesn’t have a concussion or any similar injury, save for a noticeable bruise on the right side of his forehead. All things considered, that’s quite fortunate.

The less fortunate thing, however, is the fact that he can see a familiar face standing in the doorway to the ward right now. And she’s the last person he wants to be seen by in this state.

While he struggles to figure out how she even found out that he was here, she rushes over as soon as she spots him, stopping right in front of the examination table where he’s seated.

The silence is deafening. She’s just staring at him, looking close to tears. It looks like she has a lot to say, but with the way her lips are quivering, she’s probably trying to regain her composure before speaking.

Tentatively, Artem reaches out and takes her hand in his. Thankfully, she doesn’t pull away, allowing him to trace circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I’m alright, don’t worry. The doctor said there’s nothing other than this bruise, and I can go straight home. It doesn't even hurt.”

Still nothing. The only difference now is that instead of staring at him, her eyes are now cast to the floor.

“How did you know I was here?” he asks, hoping to get some answer out of her. It’s even more worrying to not hear her speak; he’d rather be scolded if she’s angry at him for causing so much trouble tonight.

“You texted me,” she replies, her voice soft and trembling.

“I did?” He checks his phone, searching for the text history with her. The incriminating evidence stares at him right in the face: he had told her himself that he was in the hospital when she asked him whether he was home yet.

“Oh.” Clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind when he sent that text. It’s too late to regret it now, though, because he feels something moist on his hand, and he looks up to see that tears are now streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry. It’s because of what I did, right?” she says, frantically trying to wipe them away with her hands. “I shouldn’t have teased you and made you get distracted while driving. You were already tired and it was late, I should have known better than to—”

“Don’t apologise,” he says, standing to his feet and wrapping his arms around her, cradling her to his chest. He doesn’t really know how to placate her—the book never said anything about what to do if he made her cry. He can’t even Google an answer right now. “Don’t cry. It was my fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“I was so scared when you said you were in the hospital,” she sobs into his shirt, the fabric soaking up her warm tears. “I thought- I thought something horrible happened to you.”

“I’m alright,” he reassures her. “Sorry for scaring you like that. I should have messaged you saying that it was nothing serious, then you wouldn’t have come all the way down here. It’s very late, you must be tired.”

“No, I shouldn't have done that in the first place. I shouldn’t have— shouldn't have kissed you before you left.”

Artem slowly pulls away, but continues to hold her at arm’s length with his hands on her arms while she continues to apologise. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Her head has been down the whole time, perhaps from guilt, perhaps to hide her crying face from him, or perhaps it’s both. Whichever it is, he doesn’t like the fact that she won’t look him in the eye.

“Look at me,” he says gently, nudging her chin upwards with his finger. “I was happy that you did that; so happy that I didn’t pay attention to the road, and that has nothing to do with you. So don’t say ‘sorry’. None of this is your fault.”

The words don’t seem to sink in or register, because she continues to apologise, taking the blame as she tends to do.

“There’s nothing for you to apologise for. Especially when you finally gave me courage.”

“Courage?” she echoes. “For what?”

“For this.” There’s no more hesitation, no more restraint. He leans in, closing the gap between them and pausing just as their noses touch. He waits a second or two for her to pull away or to push him away—anything that would tell him she doesn’t want this.

She doesn’t move. Instead, he feels her hands clutch his shirt tighter than before to pull him closer to her. Her eyes slip close and then before he can make the next move, she’s already sealed the gap between their lips.

It’s... everything he dreamed of, and more.

Artem had a plan for how to confess to her. He would pick the perfect venue, plan the perfect speech, and choose the perfect gift for her. The confession would be romantic and she would be impressed by everything and happily agree to be his girlfriend.

But his confession here is messy, imperfect, spontaneous… nothing at all like how he had envisioned it to be. They’re in the hospital, he has a swelling bruise on his forehead, he didn’t even manage to say “I like you” directly, and he has nothing to offer her but his words of comfort that seem to be doing little to stop her tears.

And yet, nothing has felt more right.

Her lips taste like tears. He kisses her softly, tenderly, each a desperate attempt to comfort her, and to convey the feelings he’d kept buried within him for so long. His hands cup her cheeks, brushing away the remnants of her tears.

Her kisses in response are warm and passionate. She wraps her arms around his waist, holding him tightly and leaving no space between them.

It just about confirms everything that he needs to know that he’s finally succeeded.

Still, he needs to do this right.

They break apart, breathless, and he can feel her warm breaths fanning on his face. Or maybe it’s just his face that’s feeling feverishly hot.

“I like you,” he tells her with as much sincerity as he can muster. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

She doesn’t answer immediately. He only hears her chuckle, before she plants another bold kiss on his lips.

“I know,” she says, as a wide grin spreads across her face. “I like you too, Artem.”

His lips curve upwards into a smile that mirrors hers. Then he leans in once more, kissing her once, twice, thrice…

Artem promptly forgets how to count.

***

A/N: Chapter summary: Senior attorney crashes his car after being kissed on the cheek.

(I wanted to post this as the official chapter summary but then I figured it would be too spoiler-y XD)

Hope you enjoyed this final chapter! The car crashing thing started off as a joke when I was talking to my friend about not knowing what to do with this chapter, and then I rolled with it because I was out of ideas and somehow, it worked XD Sorry artem i promise i don’t enjoy seeing you get hurt...

I’ll be back with an epilogue. :)

AO3 link is in the replies to this post!

#tears of themis #artem wing #artem fanfiction #artem wing fanfiction #tears of themis artem #tears of themis fanfiction #my writing #kiss the girl

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

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Personal Assistant Pt. 7 (Finale)

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: here Part 6: here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Wow, I’m surprised y’all are here. Really, I’m humbled and honored for all the followers and all the support you’ve given me in this whirlwind of a writing marathon. Please enjoy the last course of this smut fest and lemme know how y’all are feelin’ Taglist at the end.

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader Wordcount: 8,500 ish Genre: Delicious smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, cunnilingus, aphrodisiacs, demon sex Summary: You get to experience some intimate times with Lucifer as a year with him winds to a close.

Bonus

After your business trip, you were mandated to work from home for at least a week. Lucifer knew the extent of what you went through and bed rest was absolutely necessary to ensure you would be able to come back to work in top form. Even after a weekend of basically being bedridden right after the session, the soreness between your legs persisted as a constant reminder of just how thoroughly you had been used. So, when you received the text from him late Sunday night to work from home, you couldn’t be any more relieved. Your legs had gotten some strength back into them; but you still couldn’t freely move around without experiencing discomfort and limping.

With the holidays looming so closely, Lucifer was rather ashamed that he couldn’t give you proper vacation time off to recover. At the very least, he knew you were safe from prying eyes while you stayed at home and remoted in on your computer. It was strange though, not seeing you sitting at your desk, your back turned to him while you were entering data. He oddly missed turning around and seeing you filing away the monthly reports or retrieving files for a meeting. The office felt empty for the first time in a long time.

Caring for humans was something foreign and unfamiliar to him. But, with you, it felt like the proper thing to do.

He reasoned that he was simply doing his due diligence to visit your abode with physical paperwork that needed to be reviewed. It also seemed to be a natural thing for him to buy you some food; surely you were tired of cooking for yourself and your food supplies were dwindling from being unable to get to the grocery store. It didn’t cross his mind that food delivery was an option until he was mere meters away from your front door, one hand holding a heavy bag full of takeout and a thick pile of reports in his arm. Regardless of his oversight, it was too late to turn back now.

You had expected Lucifer to come over, drop off some papers to go over and leave you to your own devices. You had already shown to him that you could still complete the most of your usual workload in a timely manner, even if you weren't at the office with him. So, when he invited himself into your abode, stepping past you as soon as you opened the door to set down the food and papers he brought, you were taken aback to say the least. After all, Lucifer was a busy man and he had much better things to do than to get comfortable in the recliner that sat in your living room once his shoes and coat were off of him.

“It’s gotten a bit nippy out this week. Are you sure you’re running the heat here? It’s absolutely frigid.” He commented, loosening his tie and settling into the seat he had claimed as his own. You stared dumbly at your boss who had just so casually stepped into your home as if he lived there with you and was meant to unwind right in your living room. It had to be a dream, you had to be hallucinating. Yet, no matter how many times you blinked or rubbed your eyes, Lucifer was right there, in your living room, his tie and the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone.

He looked over at your stunned face, smiling a bit. “What? Am I not allowed to make a visit to my assistant who’s been ‘out sick’ all week?” He wasn’t sure what lines he had crossed, but it felt as if his presence made you uncomfortable. Perhaps he should have given you a little more of an advanced notice before coming over. The silence between the two of you grew palpable. When at the office, he was the epitome of control and composed. Humans were easy to predict in a controlled environment where there was a clear hierarchy. In such a casual setting though, he found himself rather out of place and lost. He had only vaguely ever gotten the idea of how to behave; with how you were reacting though, he was unsure how to proceed.

“Did you eat?” He asked, changing the subject and gesturing over to the food he brought on the counter. If he had been too forward with getting comfortable in your space, he could at least assuage the tension by changing the subject and moving the focus over to food and not to him. It would be the perfect time to reassess his plan of action while you were distracted by eating. “You should have something before it gets cold.”

“I was just about to order some delivery.” You admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. Having Lucifer in such an intimate setting was strange. You could tell he didn’t feel quite as at home as he was fronting and wondered just how you could get him out so he could go back to being his usual self without you around him.

“I hope you don’t mind Greek.” Lucifer visibly relaxed, walking over to the bag of food and started to take out the boxes. “A new place just opened up and the marketing head suggested I try it out.” He opened the containers, revealing some of the typical dishes you expected to see, naming each one and describing them. Some dishes you were familiar with; others you had never seen before and with each description he gave, your mouth watered a little more and your stomach grumbled in hunger.

At the loud gurgle your stomach gave once he opened the last box, Lucifer chuckled, pulling a chair out for you at the small table, now crowded with more takeout than two people could ever eat. “Eat. I know you’re hungry.”

You nodded, at least having the decorum to grab some dishes and silverware before digging into the feast in front of you. The explosion of flavors and textures was a welcome change from the pizza and Chinese takeout you had been living off of for the past week. It was hard to keep your manners in mind when the table was so crammed full of boxes and you were forced to eat with the plate in your lap, hunched over the food like the gremlin that you felt like you were.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lucifer pick at his own food, ever composed and nonplussed that he wasn’t actually eating in the most ideal circumstances. The quiet that fell between you this time felt much better, the food serving as the perfect buffer between you and him and you could at least feel a little more yourself with proper sustenance in you.

“The year end reports are starting to roll in.” he said once you had adequate time to try everything. Now, you were just going in for seconds of what you liked best, picking at your favorites until your hunger was properly sated. “And marketing has been sending in the proposals of the ads we’ll be running this season. I’d like to go over those with you once you’re done with dinner.”

With the conversation focused on work, it was much easier to forget how awkward it had all been in the beginning when he walked through your door. You nodded, already grabbing the first folder on the stack to start skimming through reports. Ad proposals were much more fun to go over than pages upon pages of analysis. The sooner you could finish the boring stuff, you could look at the more interesting things.

“My work computer is in the room. I can move it out here once we’re done.” you said, flipping a page and sighing when there were even more numbers you needed to double check.

“No need, we’ll just move there.” He said, not realizing the connotations his words had. “You’re on sick leave and you must rest when you can. We’ll just carry on as you have for the past week.”

You felt your body heat up at his words, trying to see if he had any intentions outside of making sure you were as well rested as possible before you returned to work in a few days. You could never read him, unable to tell what his motives were, and all you could do was follow his instructions. Once all the food had been cleaned up and leftovers were stowed in the fridge, you showed him down the short hallway to your room where you had your home office set up in bed.

As you shuffled to your computer, he could tell there was still a bit of a limp in your gait and there was a mixture of pride and shame. On the one hand, he was glad that your body still remembered the amazing experience you shared with him, Diavolo and Barbatos. On the other, he was ashamed that you were pushed to that limit at all. And then, he remembered the reason he broke you at all in the first place.

So he could put you back together just how he wanted.

He let you climb into bed and settle the lap desk in place before handing you the first of the reports you needed to go over. Lucifer himself took a seat in the chair he had dragged over from your vanity to sit next to your bed and look over the projections for the next few months. Normally, he would have kept strict office hours; but with holidays, even he had to put in a few longer nights to keep up with how hectic things got.

The two of you worked in silence. Even if the location was different, the professional atmosphere was the same as it always had been at the office. The only differences were that you sat in a much more comfortable position and you were much closer to Lucifer than you normal. From where you sat, you got a much closer look at your boss while he worked. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he parsed out the plans for the upcoming month. His mouth was set in a straight, tight line whenever he crossed anything out and wrote corrections in the margins. He was beautifully efficient in his work, blitzing through several files in the time it took you to go through one.

You heard stray cats mewling from the cold outside at some point, breaking your concentration and you looked at the clock on your dresser. It was much later than you thought it would be, and you still had ad proposals to look through. Sighing and setting the reports to the side to look over during the weekend, you picked up the folders filled with ad storyboards. “Are you going home soon?” You asked, looking up at Lucifer who just finished the last of his work.

“Oh, I was waiting for you to finish so we can go over the ad proposals together. I’d like to hear your opinions on them in real time.” He said. Lucifer shifted from his place in the chair next to your bed to sitting beside you on your bed. You blushed, moving aside so he had ample room and got comfortable.

In this new position, you could feel the warmth of his body right next to yours. It was a distraction on its own, right alongside the familiar smell of his cologne. He handed you the first of the proposals, giving you a few minutes to look through it before asking for your thoughts on it.

What focus you had earlier was completely lost from being so close to Lucifer. It felt like an eternity since the last time you were in the office and having him right beside you, talking business had your mind and body in conflicting positions. While you struggled to pay attention to his words and stared at the papers in front of you, Lucifer smirked, knowing just what kind of effect he was having on you.

“So, do you think we should run it?” He asked nonchalantly leaning closer so that he could have a clear view of the storyboard.

You swallowed, trying to ignore how his voice sounded and how you could feel his breath ghosting across your neck. It was time for work, not time for your body to crave his touch, his kisses, his… everything. Stop. You blinked, turning the pages back and forth before voicing your thoughts. “I think the message of this ad is alright, but the target audience is off. If I saw this, I wouldn’t know what it’s trying to sell until it’s too late and I’m bored with it.”

He nodded, agreeing mostly with your opinion and closed the file after writing down your comments. “Alright, what about this one.” He said, pulling up the next one and letting you go through it.

Your eyes scanned the script and you immediately grimaced at how cheesy the writing was. You instinctively wanted to reject it and move onto the next one. However, your morbid sense of curiosity had you reading further and analyzing everything else in the file. In the end, your gut feeling was correct and you wholeheartedly turned it down from being produced. “Unless you want to lose half of your clients, I’d say bin that one.”

He chuckled, not bothering to write any notes on it, knowing that it wouldn’t go any further. “And what about this one?” he asked, putting another file on top of your lap desk.

You flipped through, engrossed in the storytelling and the script, rather shocked at the proposed budget to shoot an ad like this. You nodded, thinking through the allocated funds for the rest of the year and calculated if it would be feasible to go forward with the project. You crunched a few numbers, actually invested in the proposal and didn’t notice just how close Lucifer had gotten until his hand snuck its way under the sheets covering your legs and stopped at your thigh.

“What do you think?” He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your thigh and your brain ceased to function for a moment. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time he did anything like this to you. You looked over to him and smiled, trying to go back to the subject at hand, though your brain refused to process what he was asking you.

“It’s nice…” You finally managed to say.

“Is that all?” He asked, moving his hand further up and brushing his fingers against the apex of your thighs. “You seemed to be so interested in it, but it’s just ‘fine’?”

You cleared your throat, hoping it would reset your thoughts; but your brain was stuck in a constant feedback loop that refused to get over what Lucifer was doing to you. “It… it’s got good parts.”

Lucifer smirked, nodding at your answer and continuing his questions as if his hands weren’t teasing you. “Tell me more.” He encouraged, slipping his hand past the waistband of your shorts to rub your labia. “I’m interested in your thoughts.”

“I uh.. W-well.” You stuttered, swallowing hard and looking at him pleadingly. You were still sore but the way he was so soft with his touches did things to your libido and your heart. “Well, it fits the mood for the season…” You started, touching on the most basic things to get your mind in the right state.

“Yes, I did tell you these were proposals for the holiday season. It’s obvious it would fit the mood.” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear and his teeth nipped at your earlobe. “Come on now, your analysis for all the others was so thorough, what happened?” he drawled, smiling wickedly, knowing exactly what was making your brain stutter. His fingers parted your lips in turn making you unconsciously spread your legs for him to get easier access.

You bit your lip, using the pain to ground your focus to the task at hand. “Well, the year has been rather rough financially for a lot of people.” You said through gritted teeth. “Showing how they’re able to… ah--” Whatever you were about to say flew right out of your mind when his finger brushed against your clit. You gasped, your whole nether region was still so sore from the last time, but your body was quickly craving more; and the only way to get that was to work. “We’re able to show people that they can… they can afford to celebrate on a budget… Ah… Lucifer…” you whined, rolling your hips up and gasping at how stiff all your muscles were. The sudden jolt of pain keeping you from reacting the way you wanted to.

He hushed you, kissing your jaw and teased your nether lips further with his fingers, running them up and down your slit which was quickly becoming wet from his ministrations. You whimpered, hating how you were being forced to sit still due to your own body’s limits.

“Yes, I’m listening still.” He replied nonchalantly, trailing his kisses down your neck and nipping the skin there with his teeth. “I’m concerned about the budget they’ve set for this ad… your thoughts on that?”

You gulped, amazed that he was still asking questions about the damn ad as if his fingers weren’t coated with your essence at that very moment. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself but not doing a very good job at it. “We-well… initial calculations say that it’s not something that can be done right no--- ahh…” You gasped in pleasure when you felt firm pressure on your clit, his finger rubbed circles around it and made you see stars. “Right now… b-but if we reallocate funds from the IT department that submitted their final budget for the year and th...they have a surplus, we can manage….”

“Oh? That’s very good news then…” Lucifer smiled, loving the way you struggled to keep yourself composed while he unraveled you bit by bit with his fingers. Tentatively, he probed your entrance, wondering how well you had healed over the week. When you yelped in pain, instinctively closing your legs against that touch, he stopped immediately. “This was my favorite out of all the ones submitted, I’m glad that you approve of it as well.”

Lucifer went back to teasing your folds, making you forget about the pain and put your body back into the relaxed, aroused state it had been in before. Now that he knew your limits, he was free to skirt them right at the edge, teasing you until you squirmed with pleasure. “I’ll let Marketing know the good news over the weekend so they can start the project as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure they’ll be very happy about that.”

“Indeed they will be. Final thing, I just need you to sign off on these reports and I’ll be on my way home.” He said before dropping a sizable stack of papers in front of you. “I need them right away so I can submit them over the weekend and get underwriting to process them first thing next week.” He explained. His touches slowed to a halt and you felt the fog of pleasure lift a little. Now though, you ached for his continued caresses and you whined loudly when he pulled his hand out from under the sheets.

“Do as you’re told and you’ll be rewarded accordingly.” He stated firmly, all the while making the most lewd show of licking his fingers coated in your slick.

Never in your life had you started reading boring documents so quickly. You were skimming words, processing them, but just barely, all to get to what you were promised. Even if your body ached and screamed in protest, what Lucifer had teased you with was too tantalizing to pass up.

He smiled, planting a soft kiss at your temple before leaving your side. You startled, looking up at him with pleading eyes, wondering if he was leaving for the night. “I’ll be right back…” He reassured you with a self satisfied smirk.

You wondered what he meant by those words for a brief moment before his actions did all the explaining as he ducked his head under the sheets and nestled himself between your legs. You swallowed, parting your legs for him after he slid your shorts and panties off. You could feel his warm breath on your inner thighs, traveling higher and higher until the tip of his nose brushed against your pussy and you whined softly at the contact.

There was still an important task to be done and you had to see it through. All the while Lucifer happily lapped at your core. His hands firmly at your thighs to keep your legs parted for him. His tongue traced your slit slowly and you caught your breath with each pass he took. The words on the pages in front of you had no meaning, but you kept reading them anyway.

The lewd sounds of him licking and sucking your folds were muffled under the sheets, yet they were still loud enough to be the only sounds your ears picked up on. Your breathing came out in stuttered breaths as you turned the last page in a report and mindlessly signed your name. Closing the file and moving on to the next one, you felt Lucifer press the flat of his tongue all along your pussy, spreading your labia and just brushing past your abused hole. At that, you moaned loudly, your hips jerking at the contact and sending pain shooting across your sore muscles. However, when you felt the tip of his tongue circle your clit, the pain dissipated and all that was left was a delicious soreness which mingled with the pleasure.

It was so hard to focus on your work, his tongue worked you into a frenzy, leaving you shuddering and moaning his name. You came as soon as you finished signing off on the second report. There were three more to go in the stack and you wondered if you could cum once for every one that was left. It would be perfect motivation to keep working.

No matter how many times your body was being pushed to the point of overstimulation, you could never get used to it. The way every nerve in your body seemed to vibrate with every touch and made you twitch in pleasure always felt new; and you couldn’t get enough of that euphoria. You had never been made to work through that state, but it was a test of your willpower now, going through reports while Lucifer’s tongue worked you into orgasm over and over again.

You felt like it took hours to complete reading everything. However, when you glanced up at the clock, barely an hour had passed and you were a quivering mess in your own bed, your boss between your legs, lazily licking your essence off your thighs as you came one last time, signing the last report off. “I… All the reports are done…”

You hated how cold you felt when he unburrowed himself from under your sheets. You could see your essence glistening on his lips and his chin, his eyes glowing that deep red color that made your heart skip a beat. “Very good job.” He praised, picking everything up and gathering it into his arms. He kissed the top of your head, making you feel dizzy from his praise and the number of times you came from just having his mouth attached to your pussy for an hour. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He said, preparing to leave.

A small part of you was heartbroken he didn’t want to stay. “Yeah… I’ll see you Monday…” You said weakly, smiling wistfully at his retreating form.

A year to a human was no insignificant amount of time. As an immortal, this was the hardest concept for Lucifer to grasp. Yet, after having you around for a year, it felt natural for him to celebrate the time he had spent with you.

You expected work to be piled up when you got back to the office. However, with your absence and also the general hectic nature of the holidays approaching, you were swamped with work. Staying late to catch up and working yourself into an exhausted heap, there were nights where you simply fell asleep on one of the couches in the lounge area so you didn’t have to worry about losing time with your commute.

Even if Lucifer wanted you to slow down, the corporate world and human greed made it impossible. You weren’t the only one who worked to the bone. Even he had to pick up a fair amount of extra work to ensure the year ended smoothly. The last three months that year were a blur, you barely remembered who you talked to or what you did. All that mattered was making sure the company ran as smooth as possible.

So when the worst of it was all over and the department parties began, it felt as if the whole building got to sigh in relief now that the storm had passed. You were invited to a fair number of new year celebrations, both you and Lucifer’s schedules were filled with more parties than meetings. Seeing all the employees under his wing celebrate another successful year with him warmed your heart. It was a rare opportunity to see him interact with others and seeing him in such a joyous setting made your heart swell with pride.

With the last of the company parties out of the way, you were finally able to release the sigh of relief you had been holding for months. As soon as you returned to the office, it was as if a weight had been lifted and you were free to at least pretend the workload would lessen as the year rolled over. You were about to start packing your things up when you noticed a parcel on your desk. Curious, you opened it and it revealed a beautiful sparking black and red gown. You looked back at Lucifer who was leaning against his desk, watching you for your reaction. “You didn’t think I’d plan a celebration for the two of us now, did you?” He sauntered over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We count as our own department, right?”

“Of course… How could I forget.” You laughed, running your hand across the delicate fabric, marveling at how it shifted in the light.

“Go on, get dressed, I’ll get the rest of the preparations ready.”

You couldn’t have run into the bathroom any faster. Your legs quivered a little in excitement and you nearly tripped out of your work clothes before shimmying into the black and red number you had been gifted. You were surprised at how well it fit you. Like a glove, it hugged your every curve in the right way to accentuate it. The fabric shimmered with every movement, making it look like you were walking through smoke. It felt odd to be in such a lavish dress and have nothing else to match it.

You ran your fingers through your hair, rearranging it in a way you thought framed your face a little better to accentuate the dress. You wanted to touch up your makeup, but had neglected to bring any with you in your rush to get changed. You would have to make do with what you had. Turning this way and that, you took one last look in the mirror and accepted the fact that it was as good as it was going to get with what you had.

Stepping back out into the office space, you gasped at how quickly Lucifer had managed to transform it. There was a clear hint of magic in the air, there was no other way to explain the softly glowing orbs that illuminated the room in a warm light. They floated through the air, suspended by nothing and fueled by whatever magic Lucifer had put into them. A table for two had been set up in the time it took you to get dressed and what looked like a delightful meal awaited you. Even Lucifer had changed his usual black and grey work suit to something with a little more red in it to match you.

Once again, he was waiting for you while leaning on his desk. As soon as he saw you, he picked up a pair of champagne flutes which sat next to him on his desk. He walked over and offered you the drink, a soft smile on his face. “Courtesy of Barbatos.” He explained, gesturing at the plates of food on the table. “He felt bad about his first impressions with you and wanted to make up for it. So, lucky me, I get catering from the best chef I know for this party.”

You giggled slightly, taking a sip of the champagne. “I hope that doesn’t mean that you expect me to cook for you in the future as your assistant. I’ll have you know the extent of my cookery knowledge will be phoning Barbatos up and asking him to deliver something for you.” You joked.

Lucifer let out a genuine laugh, leading you over to the table and helping you get seated. “Oh no, I don’t expect that from you at all. But, I’ll take note of that in case I change my mind later.”

Truth be told, though the food presented was some of the best you had ever eaten, being in close company with Lucifer was even better. For once, conversation didn’t revolve around work, instead, he regaled you with tales of where he came from and all the troubles he had to get Diavolo out of. The chatter and the good food filled your heart and your soul; you didn’t think you would ever get to see this side of Lucifer, but you were eternally grateful for the chance to witness it.

“Ah, the last thing. You can’t end a good meal without dessert.” Lucifer got up and reached for a box on his desk. Coming back, he presented you with an array of chocolate coated strawberries. “Please, help yourself.” he encouraged, turning the box to you. “I have a bit of an allergy to them, so they’re all yours.”

You tentatively took one, feeling rather guilty that Lucifer wouldn’t be able to join you; however, with a little bit of coaxing, your worries were laid to rest and you happily bit into the fruit. Lucifer watched your expression of joy as you indulged in one of your favorite treats. The way you made such happy sounds when enjoying something had him entirely amused. All the while, a small, knowing smile played at his lips. “They’re not going anywhere. You can take your time.” He said when he noticed just how quickly you were devouring them.

In an attempt to pace you, he pulled the box away from your grasp, plucking one of the strawberries from it and offered it to you. He looked at you expectantly, an eyebrow cocked up as he enticed you to lean in and take a bite.

You blushed, flustered that he would be feeding you dessert in this way. There was a distinct intimacy in how he delicately held the fruit out to you with one hand. His other hand cupped below it to catch anything that might fall. You obeyed after a moment of hesitation, leaning forward and taking it into your mouth. Somehow, just from having Lucifer present you dessert in such a way had dessert tasting so much sweeter to you.

You were halfway through the strawberries when you realized something felt off.The room felt warmer, the floating lights pulsed in a way that cast a halo around Lucifer, somehow making him look angelic to you. You thought it was because you were too tired after a whole week of festivities. It must have been past your normal bedtime and your body wanted to rest. At least, that’s what you thought was the case. But when he spoke again and his voice seemed to penetrate your whole body, sending shivers down your spine and pooling right to your core; you knew it had to be something else.

“Shall we dance?” he asked, getting up after he had finished feeding you what was left of the box of sweets. He held his hand out expectantly; with a little bit of magic, soft music filtered through the room and set the mood. While you struggled to comprehend what was happening to your body, you mindlessly followed his directions. All your nerves tingled, from the tips of your fingers to your scalp, everything seemed to vibrate with a heat and a need that built itself out of seemingly nowhere

The moment he placed his hand in your own and wrapped his arm around your waist, things started to click and your whole body heated up further at the realization. Your eyes blow wide open and your lips parted in a perpetual pant as he nonchalantly lead you in a slow dance, circling the empty area of the office to the beat of the soft music. You followed him in a haze, barely noticing your body move, a practical rag doll in his arms as he spun you around and watched your pupils get ever wider and the flush on your cheeks get ever deeper.

You were so hot and bothered in such a short period of time, it was absolutely overwhelming. Your hands shook in his, your mind barely able to comprehend the music as it was singularly focused on his warmth, his smell, his voice, his everything that was so close to you. You couldn’t look up at him, ashamed that with every dance step you shared, your essence flowing so freely from you was being smeared along your thighs and the back of your legs.

He knew what he had done, you could tell with the way the corner of his lip turned up. He was trying so hard to hide that self-satisfied smirk he always had on whenever you were right where he wanted you. You were so wet and ready for something other than the innocent game he was playing; but you knew better than to rush him. So you held onto your slipping control, pretending everything was alright when your body screamed to be used and not teased. That control disintegrated as you could smell your arousal while you dance; you knew there was no way he missed that smell either.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, his voice full of faux concern after the second time you circled the room. “You seem so out of it.”

“It’s just… It’s hot, Lucifer.” You said, clinging onto his lapels and leaning into him. With his arm no longer around your waist, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself upright. You could hear his heart beating as you pressed your face against his chest, steadying yourself. “It’s… I don’t know what happened, I’m just, so hot…” It was a lie, you knew exactly what happened, what those strawberries were laced with, but you couldn’t say it out loud, not when you were so affected by his sneaky little plan.

“Oh dear… Are you coming down with something?” He asked, gently guiding you to sit down where you stood. “Are you feeling ill? Are you hurt?”

Yes, you were hurt, your whole body ached in need and he was playing around like he didn’t have any idea what he had done to you. You whine, pulling the skirt of your dress up, a wave of cool air offering you a bit of relief on your heated body. “I hurt… right here.” You said, spreading your legs apart and giving him a clear view of the wet mess you had become in such a short time. “It’s hot… and I hurt…”

Your lips and throat felt dry, your whole body flushed and heated to a point where you wanted to tear off the fancy dress and just dunk yourself into a vat of ice water. You needed relief that only he could give you. Lucifer’s face of concern changed drastically the moment you revealed yourself to him and that sadistic smile you knew so well spread across his face.

“Oh now, that is a problem…” He murmured, pressing a finger against your soiled panties and rubbing his finger up and down to mold the fabric to your slit. “But… I would hate for you to leave the party so soon.” He drawled, putting on a dramatic pout. “I was so sure you would enjoy your time, is it not to your liking?” He pulled the skirt back down, earning a desperate whine from you; but you didn’t protest. There was a promise of satisfaction in the lilt of his voice and you were willing to go through the ends of the world at that point to get to it.

You crawled into his lap, rubbing your face against his crotch in a futile attempt to get him to the same playing field as you were. But, he was firm, preventing you from getting what you craved and helped you back up on your quivering feet. The music had stopped and the lights dimmed, giving you a sense of security. You leaned against him, tears starting to form as your desire became the only thing you could think about. You wanted him so badly. “What else do you have in mind for tonight?” You asked, your voice shaking and you looked up at him.

“Just some games....” He replied casually, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. Just the brief contact along sent a massive wave of arousal through you and you saw stars for a moment. “Mainly, I want to see how long before the special ingredients in those strawberries really kick in.”

Your eyes went wide. If this wasn’t the brunt of the effects coursing through your body, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. There was no way it could get any more intense than this, yet the way he spoke hinted only at a high that you hadn’t felt before. He chuckled, burrowing his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your sensitive, heated skin and you were helpless to stop him. Your whole body spasmed in need as your nerves were caressed and teased. It lost feeling at the tip of your fingers and your arms fell limp to your sids as you were completely swept away from him.

He didn’t need to do anything more than grab one of your breasts, kneading it experimentally before your tender nipples sent enough pleasure signals through your body to have you cumming. Your knees gave out and you sank to the ground, gasping as you rode out the sudden climax. The edge of your vision blurred and your ears rang as you caught your breath. Looking up, you saw Lucifer with that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes glittering and a noticeable bulge growing in his pants. You reached up to nuzzle it, burrow your head against the thing you crave and took in his musk. “Please… I need you…” You begged. “I need you right now…”

Those were the words he had been waiting to hear from you. Just the sound of your pleas were music to his ears and did more for his libido than you could ever imagine. He brought you back up on your feet, kissing you deeply and swallowing all the delightfully lewd moans that came from your throat. His hand laced into your hair at the back of your head kept you right where he wanted as he took the prize he had waited all day for. “Then you shall have me.” He said, licking his lips menacingly once he broke the kiss.

You were ready to sink to your hands and knees and let him use you as he saw fit. However, he brought you out of the office and into the elevator instead. You blinked in confusion until you saw him wave a black card over the scanner at the elevator, requesting for a floor that you never accessed before. It wasn’t until you stepped out that you realized he had brought you to the top most floor to his own abode.

There was no time to admire the great view that the floor to ceiling windows had of the city. You weren’t in the right mind to notice the collection of fine art or the practical furnishings that decorated his abode. All that mattered was the beeline the two of you made to his bedroom. Even if you wanted to take a second to soak in your surroundings, Lucifer gave you no time to do so, nearly throwing you into the massive bed in the room. You let out a little yelp of surprise when you hit the silky sheets; but that was quickly replaced with your need to feel his hands on your skin.

Now that he had you in his own space, in the privacy of his own home; Lucifer had the freedom to act as he wished. The first order of business was to help you out of that slinky number of yours. It had served its purpose and now he was ready to move onto looking at the most beautiful thing he possessed. He chuckled darkly, sliding the straps of the dress of your shoulders, turning you over just long enough to pull the zipper down to reveal your lacy underthings. As soon as the dress fell to the floor, it took no time at all for him to expose the rest of you by quickly removing your panties and bra.

Even if it took mere seconds to divest you of all your clothes, it felt like an eternity to you. The drag of the fabric across your skin made you shiver. His featherlight touches made you moan and when he finally pulled away to witness your nude form, the way he licked his lips made you shiver in anticipation.

Without clothes, the heat of your body was more bearable; however, it did nothing to quell your pussy’s need to be stuffed full with his cock. Spreading yourself wide once again, you beckoned him to take what you knew he wanted. This time, he was more than happy to oblige to your request. His clothes seemed to evaporate off of him; likely a result of some magic, but you didn’t care to discuss the details on how he removed his clothes. What you cared about the feeling of his weight above your own and the fullness you felt whenever he entered you.

Your hips levitated off the bed as soon as the tip of his cock started to tease at your folds. “Please, don’t play with me like this, Sir.” you cried, clutching onto the sheets below you as he made slow passes up and down your slit. He chuckled darkly, pushing you just a little further before he finally, gratefully put the tip of his cock into you.

Just at that, you could feel your inner walls clenching around him at your entrance, wanting to draw him in further into you. With how busy you had been with work and how much time he had given you to recover since being impaled by Diavolo and himself, it had been an eternity and a half since you last felt him fill your needy hole with his dick. A mixture of curses and his name fell from your lips as you hungrily took every inch of him. He was so terrible, taking his time to make the first pass in you; but it was the most fulfilling experience when he was fully seated inside of you. Your body molded itself around him, clinging to him for dear life as you rutted against his hips, begging for stimulation.

He didn’t want to torture you any further, after seeing your sweet face scrunch of up pure pleasure once he fully sank himself into you. Now, what he wanted was for your body to memorize just how good he could make it feel; and that meant fucking you right into his bed. The pace he set was just enough to bring you to the precipice of an orgasm with a few thrusts. “I know you want to cum…” He growled into your ear. “Feel free to do as many times as you want tonight.”

As soon as the permission was given, you spasmed around his cock still thrusting into you. You screamed his name, the sounds of sex and your moans filling the room as he picked up the pace and slammed his hips into you harder as you climaxed. Fucking you while your inner walls fluttered in orgasm never failed to bring him close to the edge and he was losing himself as well to the throes of pleasure.

You counted maybe two or three more orgasms before his own hips stuttered and his pace became erratic, his own release coming soon. You wrapped your legs around him, drawing him closer to you until his own hips stilled and he spilled his seed into you.

The brunt of what was in the strawberries finally hit you and the need that roiled in your blood intensified, making you keen and milk him hungrily. He pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of your hole before taking a finger and slowly working it back into you. The sex was already mindblowing and your body was telling you that it was getting tired of being so overstimulated; but, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more and you pulled him in for a searing hot kiss full of tongue and teeth. “I want all of you. Give me that demon cock of yours. Fill me.” You demanded in between kisses. “Please, I need it…”

You heard him chuckle darkly before he agreed to your request. There was a fluttering sound and you saw black feathers in your peripheral vision as he shifted into his demon form. You smiled lazily, admiring how beautiful he was illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. You hadn’t seen this side of him since the first time. Even if you knew what to expect the second time around, it was just as awe inspiring as the first. You knew what was to come now and you eagerly awaited his next move.

“Hands and knees.” He growled and you scrambled to follow his orders. Your knees quaked a bit as you got into position. You could feel the bed dip from his weight as he joined you in it, lining the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt. With one smooth motion, he was buried in you right up to the top of his knot. “Yes... “ He hissed, fisting his hand in your hair and pulling you up to be flush up against his chest while he set a brutal pace. “Yes..”

You were in heaven, your body feeling nothing but euphoria as it conformed to every ridge and vein of his cock that worked in and out of you. You came only after a few thrusts, but you knew it was far from over. Lucifer’s thick girth and massive length working in and out of your dripping pussy would push you right to the edge of pure bliss and you couldn’t wait to chase that feeling with him.

His free hand snaked around your waist to rub your clit, sending you keening and again into another orgasm. His sharp fangs raked the soft skin of your neck, leaving welts and marks that would last for days. The pain only added to the experience and you rode out yet another high around his cock.

“All of me.” He growled, slowing his thrusts to start pushing his knot into you. You let out a strangled gasp, feeling the familiar stretch at your entrance. It was blindingly blissful, being penetrated so deeply by his cock and then to be stretched to your limits with his knot. There was no other feeling like it and even without the aphrodisiacs coursing through you, you knew it was the best sex you would ever have. You breathed slowly, feeling every inch of his knot enter you, your eyelids fluttering as you could only imagine what it looked like right now as your pussy engulfed him.

He groaned when the tie was complete, your core accepting every last bit of him and now, his true pleasure began. He pushed you back onto the bed, letting you brace yourself on your elbows while his hands went to your waist to keep you steady. He rutted into you, rocking back and forth and groaning every time he felt your walls clench around him. You could tell he was close and with one last possessive growl, he pushed himself as deeply as he could into you, releasing his load. The warmth of his seed filling you doing its job as it brought you to one last climax before you felt your arms give way and you collapsed from exhaustion.

Lucifer gently maneuvered you to lay on your side so he could join you in the bed with his knot still fully embedded in you. He could still feel his balls twitching, releasing his cum in spurts inside of you as he nestled you into the crook of his arms and protectively wrapped his wings around your form.

“Congratulations on making it through a year here.” He praised, stroking your hair and lulling you into sleep.

“Of course, I expect to be with you for many years to come.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” He chuckled, kissing the top of your head as you dozed off into slumber. “Stay for the night… It’s too late to get you home by now.”

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You said, clenching yourself around his cock and he chuckled at your response.

“This is very true.” He said, still petting you methodically and watching you fall asleep.

He waited patiently for you to start softly snoring before he allowed himself the privilege of resting as well. His knot was still hard and firmly entrenched in you and it would likely stay that way for a few more hours. He watched your body slowly rise and fall in slumber and listened to you mumble in your sleep while he let himself soak in the soft moment.

“I love you, Lucifer…” You mumbled in your sleep, shifting a little and clinging onto the arm he had thrown across you.

“I know.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head, fully satisfied with the result of a long years’ worth of training. “I love you, too.”

Caring for humans was still a foreign concept to Lucifer; but, he could make an exception for you.

Fin

Taglist: @ptv-hades @bluelipsblueveins-blue @utopiamiroh @vanillaicebaby @taehyungtrasholiviahaneul99 @weebartistinc

#Obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x oc #obey me smut #wow this took two days to write #almost not sorry #I saw you anon #I just didn't want to spoil what I already had planned a week ago lmfao #enjoy the end of this smut #i hope y'all liked the wild ride #my writing

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gay-jesus-probably · 3 years

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Hey book rec for anyone that's into hard sci fi, I just read Seveneves by Neal Stephenson and it was incredibly good; I stayed up until 3-4 in the morning reading it two days in a row, it's really damn engaging.

It's also dark as fuck - the story begins with the moon exploding, for reasons that are never explained, because after the first week everybody realizes they have much bigger problems. Namely with the remnants of the moon, which initially start out as seven big fuckoff chunks hanging out where the moon used to be... but then they start bumping in to each other and breaking, and that collision sends a lot of pieces closer to Earth's orbit. That's a problem, because the more pieces the moon is split into, the more likely those pieces are to collide with each other, which makes more debris, which makes more collisions... it's a vicious cycle. And only a small amount of those bolides end up hitting the earth! ...But exponential growth means eventually they pass the point of no return where the debris cloud around earth is breaking apart fast enough to cover the planet (called the White Sky), and after a few days of white sky the Hard Rain begins, and the combined force of all those bolide meteors burning up at the same time literally sets Earth's atmosphere on fire, scorching the planet and rendering it uninhabitable for the next five thousand years.

They figure this out at the end of the first week. The Hard Rain begins 701 days after the moon explodes. They've got time. And pretty much all of that is spent with humanity throwing all of its resources into building the Cloud Ark, using the ISS as a base to try and construct a viable space colony (though plans to survive by going underground and underwater get throwaway mentions). It's an interesting take on it too; when the Hard Rain begins, the population of the Cloud Ark is 1552, but less than 200 of them actually live on the ISS full time; the majority live in Arklets, little pods that grow their own food and can hold a few people each, and can connect to each other to form groups or to stimulate gravity by spinning around each other like a bolo. At any given time, about 10% of them are docked with the ISS, restocking supplies and letting their crews socialize with the general population. Despite that, there's... rifts. Entirely caused by one fucking person playing politics and manipulating the Arkies into accepting her as a leader for no real reason except her being traumatized by escaping Earth at the last minute and trying to feel safe by taking control of the situation, justifying it to herself as she goes. Or maybe just her being a piece of shit, it's all just guesswork from the protagonists aboard the ISS, and by the time they get to the point of being able to sit down and properly talk with the troublemaker, things are so turbofucked that things like motives and past actions genuinely do not matter anymore.

Aand I'm not going to spoil any more of that. The book is split into three parts; part 1 begins with the moon exploding, and ends with the Hard Rain, part 2 begins right after that with the Cloud Ark trying to put together and enact a long term plan for survival, while dealing with frequent problems caused by both the hazards of space, and the Arkies becoming increasingly rebellious and hostile towards The Man (aka the general population on the ISS), and ends three years later with the remaining survivors succeeding in reaching a safe place to land the ISS for good, and coming to an agreement about their long term plans for humanity. Part 3 is... sorta weird and tbh I kinda skimmed it; it's set five thousand years later, where the Earth is returning to a habitable state, helped along by deliberate terraforming from the space colonists, and then discovering that those throwaway plans from part 1 for going underground and underwater both succeeded off screen, and five thousand years later their descendants are starting to move back up to the surface. The third part is more slice of life, showing how humanity has survived and changed, as well as the Spacers, Diggers and Pingers (descendants of survivors from space, underground, and underwater respectively) figuring out how to communicate with each other, and realizing the connections some of their ancestors shared with each other.

As you can guess by the whole apocalypse thing, it gets pretty fucking grim, both in part 1 with people trying to face the imminent apocalypse with relative dignity, and in part 2 with the already tiny population slowly shrinking as more and more people die off. But the novel is undercut with moments of hope (or even just joy) as people work together and find reasons to live in each other, along with the incredible sacrifices people make just to try and ensure humanity has a chance at a future. Plus the whole looming apocalypse/aftermath of apocalypse thing is broken up with occasional exposition dumps explaining stuff like the finer points of orbital mechanics, which is really damn interesting if you're a space nerd like I am.

Anyways 10/10 would recommend reading it if you're cool with the depressing setting; just googling Seveneves PDF turns up a page full of results to read it for free, so it's super easy to find.

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jawabear · 4 years

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(6) A Lesson In Want (Maxwell Lord x Reader)

A/N: Welcome to the past. This part is set before and during the very first meeting. Sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: none, it gets a little sad at the end though, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: To put things simply, its the beginning of the end

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Epilogue

(Y/N) walked back into her room to see a black box at the foot of her bed and a new case file waiting for her on her pillow. She wouldn’t really call it a pillow, more like a slab of stone, that’s what her entire bed felt like but it’s what she had to live with. She reached for the file and read over the name of her next target.

MAXWELL LORD

“Ooh lucky, you get the handsome rich guy again” Mia giggled like a child from over her shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t answer, she remained silent as she skimmed over his information. It had the basics, his name, age, birthday, appearance, height, occupation etc, nothing she hadn’t read before in news articles about him, nothing to dissimilar to a few of her previous targets who also happened to be rich, stuck up, arrogant men. “My target is boring...” Mia pouted “I wanna go after the rich ones”

“It makes no difference if they’re rich or poor, they’re a target so why should it matter?” (Y/N) grumbled to her self as she looked into his dark eyes printed in the picture the was clipped to his file. They were interesting to say the least, dark and intriguing. She could hear Mia talking to her, but it was blurry in her ears, she was getting lost in Maxwell’s gaze, even though it was through a picture.

“-wouldn’t you agree (Y/N)?” Mia laughed. (Y/N) blinked rapidly, pulling herself from her trance and looked over to her friend.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to a single word you said” (Y/N) told her. She flicked through the pages and saw the list of events that he would be attending, the first one being that night. “I was doing something far more interesting”

“Well, that’s just mean” Mia whined as she folded her arms over her chest like a child. She turned her head from (Y/N), flicking her faded grey hair in her direction before slumping down on her bed, pulling the thin cloth, they would call a blanket, over her body.

“My first scoping is tonight so don’t wait up for me, I don’t know when I’ll be back” (Y/N) called as she stood from her bed and went to the box that had been placed at the foot of her bed, it was expensive looking but (Y/N) already knew what it was, a dress for her to wear. She opened the box and saw a dark blue dress, it was simple, like all of her dresses had ever been, she was in no position to need to stand out in a crowd. In fact she was to do the exact opposite, be seen by no one, only him. And that’s exactly what she planned to do. Everyone else at the Academy was impressed at just how easily she was able to hide in plain sight, she could stand in front of someone and the still probably wouldn’t notice her.

“It’s not like you to have sex on the first night (Y/N)” Mia said as she turned in her bed so she was now facing (Y/N). (Y/N) picked up the dress and walked over to the mirror in their room and held the dress against her body “who are you going as?” Mia asked in reference to her never ending list of covers that all had better lives then she did.

(Y/N) thought for a moment and looked over to the file that rested on her bed “I think I can tell Mr Lord’s type by the look in his eyes. I’ll go as myself”

Mia sat up slightly, shocked at her friend’s words “are you sure (Y/N)? Is that even allowed?”

“Of course it is. It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re ghosts remember? We could give our names to the CIA and they wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing on us” (Y/N) explained “I’ll be fine, it’s not like anyone else will want to talk to me other then him. That is, if all goes to plan”

“When does it not go to plan with you?” Mia questioned with a slight laugh.

She managed to slip into the hall unnoticed, grabbing a drink from the tray of champagne in the doorway before weaving through the crowds. She would never stand in one place, she would take a different route with each circle of the hall that she did, standing in one place gave people a chance to talk to her, if she kept moving no one who bother her, unless she bothered them.

Her eyes scanned to room for Maxwell Lord, she had already memorised his face, and looking around at the mass of people, he wouldn’t be too difficult to pick out. He was a lot younger then the majority of people at that gathering, most of them in their late 50’s early 60’s or older, very few looked younger then that. Aside from a few girls she could spot in the arms of men. She wondered how many of them work in the same place she did.

The Academy was very strict, any woman who worked there was rarely able to mingle with anyone outside their roommate. (Y/N) wouldn’t have care to talk to people anyway, she much preferred to do her job and leave, she didn’t have time for friendship, Mia being the only exception. The Academy is an assassin organisation, unknown for obvious reasons, they take young orphan girls and train them to be master assassins of the richest and worst men in the city. Masters of disguise and seduction, their two greatest weapons. They’re taught that any man will fall to the feet of a beautiful woman if they talk the right way, and of course that what they do. Members of the Academy scratch rich names off one by one, they are told after every assassination that they are one step closer to cleansing the world of greed and corruption. Brainwashed into believing what they are doing is right, being denied any emotions towards a target, being denied any sort of emotion at all really. You can’t kill if you’ll feel guilty afterwards.

And (Y/N) was the best if the best. Aside from Mia, no other girl had met her, but they had heard stories. About how she had never failed a mission, about how strong she is, about how collected she is. Defiantly, she was the one to handle Maxwell Lord.

Ten minuets in to her being amongst the crowd, she spotted him. He was taking to a younger gentleman. Max wore a dark grey suit and a matching tie, he liked to match. For a while, she just stood back and watched him, she didn’t attempt to approach him just yet. He seemed engrossed in the conversation he was having, using hand gestures to emphasise his point. She was fascinated to know what was getting him so flustered. It was almost comedic to watch. But soon the show was over, he had calmed down and taken a large sip of his drink, his eyes moving from the man before him and looked around the room.

She hadn’t meant for him to find her so quickly but she was prepared nonetheless. His eyes seemed to widen slightly when they met hers, he dropped his glass from his lips and stared at her for a moment. She pulled her own glass to her lips and gave him a teasing look before turning into the crowd. She managed to find a quiet place and hoped that he had followed after her.

(Y/N) waited for a few moments and then he appeared. He looked calm and collected as she slowly approached her. “Excuse me” he spoke, his voice smooth and deep, not how she would’ve imagined it but she wasn’t complaining. He held his hand out to her “Maxwell Lord” he introduced.

She gave him a smile and gently shook his hand “(Y/N)” she said.

“Just (Y/N)?” He asked her as he removed his hand from her.

“For now” she said “what was getting you so flustered?” She asked him “made for quite a show”

“Some of these people don’t know how to properly run a business. I was trying to help him but he was adamant he knew exactly what he was doing” Max summarised.

“Ah, I see. And do you know exactly what you are doing?” She asked him.

“What I’ve been doing seems to have done me well so far. So I would say I do”

“Of course. I should’ve known not to ask such a question, the great Maxwell Lord clearly has everything under control. Any one would be lucky to gain advice from him” he couldn’t help but notice a hint of mockery in her voice as she spoke to him.

“Are you mocking me?” He asked her. If anyone else had spoken to him the way she just did, he would’ve destroyed them, but something about her just drew him in further, like he was happy to be mocked her. Her sheer beauty was mocking his very existence.

“Defiantly not” she shook her head “quite the opposite, I was complimenting you” she took a sip of her drink and raised an eye brow at him “surely you are familiar with the term compliment” she teased “I can’t imagine you are unused to hearing them in your position. You must have to shell out quite a fortune to keep the line if kind words flowing your way”

“I’ll have you know Miss (Y/N), any words that come my way, good or bad, are completely free. Unlike most people here tonight I accept criticism, it makes you a better person in my opinion”

“I somehow find that hard to believe. You don’t strike me as a very gracious looser”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never lost”

She let out a chuckle as she finished off her drink and rested it in the table behind her. “Well, Mr Lord, seems we both have that in common. But there is always a first time for everything. I have a feeling we may be meeting more often, so, until next time Mr Lord” she gave him a seductive smile and a soft wink before seamlessly disappearing into the crowd.

Max put his own empty glass down and followed after her, he wasn’t prepared to have her slip away so quickly, but even following in her exact footsteps he had lost her. He must’ve looked like an idiot, his head flicking in every direction looking for her but she had vanished. He let out a low growl of frustration and swore to himself in that moment that she was to be his.

(Y/N) lay beside his sleeping figure. He looked so at peace. A few stray pieces of his usual neat blonde hair had fallen from their place. She gently brushed them away from his face. She often thought of their first meeting, she often thought of every meeting after that too. She often thought of him. Everything about him. His soft hair. His beautiful, warm eyes. His voice. His body. The way he touched her, the way he spoke to her, they way he smiled at her. They way he made her feel.

She had to finally admit to herself that she was in love with him, she tried to push it down but the longer she was with him, the more she forgot herself, the more she fell for him. And she didn’t want to stop. She loved the feeling he hand planted inside her. She loved the warmth that spread through her body whenever he looked at her, whenever he touched her. She was in love with him and she knew she shouldn’t be. But she couldn’t help herself. This was the first time she had felt love and it was completely consuming her.

And being with him in that moment certainly didn’t help. His arm loosely around her waist, his mouth hanging slightly open as he let out soft snores. She wanted to snuggle into his chest, wrap both his arms around her and just stay pressed against him until the end of time, but the low buzzing in her ear stopped her from them. The noise from the earpiece signalled that she was to return back. She let out a quiet sigh and slowly slipped out of his hold. She immediately felt cold. She could’ve just slipped back into bed with him and ignored her job but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t be able to.

She was quick to put on her clothes and make a silent escape from his home that she had come to love. She had left him another note, thanking him for helping her relax in the bath and being so open with her about his past love. As she walked down his drive way she glanced back at his house, up into his bedroom window. She didn’t know why, she wasn’t expecting him to be in there, but for some reason she hoped he would be, but he wasn’t.

Once she had returned back to her room she flopped down into her solid mattress, a complete contrast to the comforting softness of Max’s mattress. She longed to be back in his bed, to have the thick covers over he body rather then the stupidly thin blanket she did have. To sink into his feather mattress, rather than be in pain from sleeping in her slab of rock. But mostly to have him beside her.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to just spend one entire night with him, to sleep soundly for once, and then to wake up next to him, to see the sun peek through his curtains and cast its golden light over his body, making him glow like some sort of god from the heavens. She would give anything to have a chance at that. Not that she had much to give. So, for now, she would have to be content in what time she did have in his arms. And god knows she was grateful for it, because she knew he didn’t have much time left.

23/04/20

#Maxwell Lord #Maxwell Lord x reader #Maxwell Lord fanfic #Wonder Woman 1984 #WW1984 #fluff #angst #Pedro Pascal #fanfic

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skgway · 4 years

Text

1829 Jan., Mon. 5

11 3/4

At my desk at 7 40/60 – Breakfast at 7 50/60 in 20 minutes then in about 20 minutes (till 8 1/2) skimmed over without dictionary, from page 39 to 52 Paul and Virginia (Italian) – Delighted to find that I could carry the sense along with me – I begin to hope and think that with a very little more pains taking I shall be able to read Italian pretty fluently –

Went out at 8 3/4 – Some time talking to my father – Took Jno [John] and set off to walk to Ashgrove at 9 5/60 – Went over the bill, by Ashday, got to the Jno [John] Rawson’s in an hour 1st time I ever was there – Very glad to see me, very civil – Asked me to dinner – Walked with Mr. and Mrs. R– [Rawson] round the garden then with Mr. R– [Rawson] in the woods, then with Mrs. R– [Rawson] in the garden, during which time while she had hold of my arm. Paid the gardner, on his master’s account, 6d [pence] a piece for 22 trees 10 beeches, 8 sycamores, and 4 elms – and gave the man 2 /. [shillings] for himself.

Throp and the 2 wallers had come early and all the trees were got up by 11 – The wood so thick, could not get up them properly for fear of injuring the other trees – I scarce think any of the beeches will live – Had I known all this before would not have had them – William arrived with the cart at the Rawson arms about 12 – Off home with the trees about 1 –

Mr. Jno [John] R– [Rawson] does not approve London’s 6 guinea work on landscape gardening – Sold it to his brother William Henry at 1/2 price – Had got a well bound copy of Dr. Hunter’s Evelyn’s Sylva (1 volume 4to [quarto]) of Whitley at 25 /. [shillings] Whitley had then several copies to dispose of – Many antiquated notions in Evelyn – All the good of the work in Dr. H– [Hunter]’s notes – Said Londoner was not (in his landscape gardening) for masses of trees or shrubs of the same kind –

Mr. J[ohn] R– [Rawson] all for nurse trees – Says his plantations never begin to grow till 2 or 3 years after being planted when he put in larches – The wood is now of ten years growth – Drawn thought I, by being sadly too thick – Wont take out the firs till another year or 2 when he can get 6d [pence] a piece for them – Says my trees at 2 yards distance, are far too thin – Would plant transplanted trees that have not such a long tap root – Approves gavelock planting – Says a spade is the worst thing – Saddens the earth instead of lightening it – Always plants with a gavelock –

Shewed me some Spanish chesnuts close to sycamores, that seemed outgrowing them – Mrs. R– [Rawson] talked away, but nothing worth note – Dinner at 2 – Talk of going to Paris next September – Told them to inquire an address at Laffitte's – Speaking of the difficulty of getting to Almack’s, Mr. R– [Rawson] – Said it required the introduction of 5 members –

Came away immediately after leaving the dining room at 4 1/4 – Got wrong [?] on this side Ashday – Came thro’ Southowram, and, from Lawhill, across hedge and ditch to Lower Marsh Delves, and thus home as I could at 5 1/4 – Stood talking to Jno [John] and then to Throp and came in at 5 1/2 –

Dressed – Siding a little in preparation for M– [Mariana] tomorrow – Dinner at 6 20/60 – Told the R– [Rawson]’s I would not ask them to Shibden now, as I was always out – Should be glad to see them the next time I was over, and must have Mr. R– [Rawson] to come and give me his advice – Was very civil and made myself a[g]reeable. Apparently they were much pleased with my visit. Thought I to myself, shabby enough not to give me the trees. Roast leg of mutton, cod boiled beef, and a rice pudding and vegetables alike. The children began with pudding. Two glesses [glasses] white at and two port wine after dinner. Want to make myself popular with my neighbours or would never have gone. A vulgar couple –

Beg[a]n to snow a little as I left Ashgrove – The hills white as I returned and snowed a little all the way – Fine day till 4 p.m. from early in the morning – After dinner wrote the above of today – My letter written yesterday to Mrs. B– [Barlow] mentions the receipt yesterday morning of my aunt’s letter for which I had waited – To say I will write to her as soon as I can after the rent day – Nothing can be more clear than the instructions respecting getting plate over to France – At ease about my aunt.

“She has been to see you, and been, too, to the ambassador’s chapel! – Walked up all the stairs! ‘Tis wondrous well – Nothing like Paris – We ought, at least, to be grateful – But how is it, my love, that health is not there for you? Surely, surely, you were not dissatisfied, in any respect, with my last. I am uneasy about you, and know not what to do, or think of, for your good – At all rates, write, and tell me how you are – Spare me, at least, the consolation of being persuaded, that I am, in no way, the innocent cause, or a bettor of your indisposition – My aunt tells me, I shall not be back till next month – Perhaps she is right – But I shall make all the haste I can; and things begin to look more promising to let me be off” –

Begin to be hopeless of Dr. T– [Tupper]’s apartment – Hope our present one will agree with me better when I get back – “You give no hint at your own plans – Perhaps you have wisely, and kindly determined not to fix them till my return” Till then cannot calculate what my aunt will like best to do – As to staying in Paris “it is not my intention to influence her on this point overweeningly” –

Fancy from her (Mrs. B– [Barlow]’s) genteel manner expression she means to return and set in England in the course of another year, tho’ letters to Lord Burghersh savor of going to Italy – Love to Jane,

“and tell her she shall be bonneted to her heart’s content the next time – Once to have upon one’s conscience sin of spoiling a young lady’s complexion, is quite enough – Marie! I think another tour would do you more good than anything – I know nothing about Madame de R– [Rosny]’s keeping her rooms for me – Glad to hear Mrs. Beresford Dewes has married so well” . . . . . .

chit chat – ....

“Do you remember our little weekly Tuesday excursions? ...... We have Compiegne, Rambouillet, Fontainebleau, &c etcetera yet to see – I count upon being back early next month – The birds will be beginning to sing – You, in spite of yourself, will be glad to see me back again, Jane will recognize her old friend ‘mon surtout’, and we shall all be better – The breeze of general spring will cheer the winter-wearied spirit; and I trust, aunt May, or aunt Sophia, if she be there, will not waste the sky-clear day in Zozlizing their Yorkshire friend”

Refer Jane to Lempriue, article zoilus – . . . . .

“Marie! Marie! All I am anxious about, is your health – At all rates, tell me that your mind is at ease – Do set about planning our next Tuesday excursion in some of these omnibus Dames Dances, etc. etc., and let me find you looking tolerable on my return – You are at the very top of my aunt’s good books . . . . . let me hear from you soon” . . .

Came upstairs at 10 5/60 –

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #Shibden Hall 1829 #maria barlow

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missmudpie · 4 years

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Honesty Hour...1) How's the Steve fic going??? (of course I had to ask) 2) I liked this question so, which book have you read that you would never read again, but also, which book have you read that you WOULD read again? 3) I feel obligated to ask what your favorite AoS episodes are, but you might want to wait until after you do a rewatch. On the other hand, doing it now might help you narrow it down since the really good ones will stick out. 4) Favorite tv character of all time?

1) The Steve fic is stuck on page 28 and 8854 words because Steve needs to have a conversation in which he realizes/explains/comes to terms with why he left the Leftover Avengers and STEVE IS NOT COOPERATING. Part of the problem is trying to figure out how much the other character knows about what happened. Like, Steve references Thanos in his group session, so it seems people/the broader public knows the name and what happened in Wakanda. Likewise, Bucky is identified as Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier in CA:CW, so it seems like an adult who follows the news would know who Bucky is - right? And in Spiderman: Far From Home, the teenagers make a remembrance video for Tony Stark, among others, so his death is well-known, although it’s unclear if the broader public knows HOW he died. There’s also the question of how does Steve relate his guilt over being unable to bring back Natasha without having to explain what the hell Infinity Stones are and how Time Travel Actually Exists. I’ll get it done, though, I promise!

2) I was trying to think of what book I just absolutely hated. I keep going back to A Separate Peace, which I just loathed in high school and can’t contemplate ever reading again.

Recently, my problem has been books that just left me feeling disappointed. For example, a few years ago I read We Were the Lucky Ones, which is about a Jewish family with five grown kids in Poland during WWII. It’s a true story, the descendant of one of the survivors wrote it, and they all survived and eventually emigrated and reunited in Brazil. Sounds like it should be amazing, right? But it was just SO disappointing. It skipped around in time and left out large chunks of people’s lives. Like, you leave one sibling in 1941, and then suddenly it’s fall 1942, he’s got a wife and infant, and he’s in the USSR after being arrested by the NKVD (precursor to the KGB). Like, What? How? Why? Don’t know. I ended up skimming the end to see how they all survived. Another is The Librarian of Auschwitz, which has tonal problems, but that’s in large part because I think it’s a poor translation from the original.

Oh, and Lilac Girls, which everyone loves but I just couldn’t properly connect with the characters. That one bills itself to be about an American socialite, Caroline Ferriday, who helps save the “Rabbits” - Polish (mostly non-Jewish) prisoners held in Ravensbrück (the only only-womens’ camp the Nazis ran) who were savagely experimented on by the Nazis. Like, they would purposefully wound them in the leg, then stuff the wound with dirt and sawdust and gangrene, wrap it up, and then see what happened. Many were horribly maimed. And that part of the story, which follows a Polish teen, is really good. But you go from that to Caroline lamenting that the man she’s fallen for has a secret wife in France and like - these problems are not on the same level! Also, the third character is a female Nazi doctor, and I think she gets a more empathetic treatment than she deserves. Also, the “saving” is more “raised money after the war so these women could come to the US for surgery,” which is noble, don’t get me wrong, but not exactly the rescue mission that was advertised.

Basically, I need to stop reading WWII/Holocaust books and write my own. Which I’m currently researching.

As for books I return to, I try to read To Kill a Mockingbird once a year or so. I love it. I always find something new each time I read it. I bought Juniper, by Monica Furlong, at my sixth grade book fair and still love it. It’s about a young girl in post-Arthur Cornwall who trains to be essentially a sorceress (the book calls her a doran). Beautifully written. Another fave: The Martian.

3) I’ll put these in a reply/reblog to your post. I need to do a rewatch, but I went through the wikipedia page and tried to remember which ones I liked. I’m interested to see if we pick the same ones!

4) I thought about this, I really did, but I knew the answer immediately. It’s Walter “Radar” O’Reilly from MASH. I love that show, and I love all the characters, especially Hawkeye. But Radar is something special - sweet, kind, naive, smart. He is the embodiment of all the boys that go to war. I love him and will protect him.

Thanks for these, they were fun!

#Fandom Friends

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thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 6: Date Night

I think ‘date night’ might very well be my most used chapter title of them all, but chapter titles have never been my strong suit... Anyway, have an aged-up Adrienette date. Plus some other things.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.

Adrien had gotten home late after another long but enlightening shift at the bakery. Well… relatively late. The hours that a baker worked meant that his bosses were in bed long before most people, but that didn’t matter much when they took advantage of his youth and strength to do the heavy lifting for them. He hadn’t even considered checking his mailbox last night with the bone deep exhaustion he’d felt. The first rays of dawn were only just barely able to wake him.

He threw his legs over the side of his bed and took the time to watch the sunrise through his bedroom window. Another beautiful day in Paris. Even if it was a little chilly in the early October air, the cold had never bothered him as much as they had his lady. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he remembered her and slipped his feet into the silly kitty slippers she’d made for him ages ago.

His muscles ached as he stretched, but between his excursions to the gym, the years of superheroing, and the schedule from his youth that had run him ragged, the pain was more than bearable. A warm shower to help relax helped take the edge off the soreness. Now all he needed was some breakfast, and something to distract himself. With those goals in mind, he got dressed and headed into the kitchen, sparing a glance at Plagg. He was still laying on his back, bathed in a sunbeam as one of his legs twitched. Adrien smiled as gently closed the door behind him.

Despite all the classes and his time at the bakery, breakfast was still Adrien’s strong suit. He started to cook up a cheese omelette stuffed with fresh vegetables, paired with some leftover bread he’d taken home from the Dupain-Chengs yesterday. Barely a few minutes had passed before the silence became maddening. Another lingering pain from his childhood, but one that he could easily remedy. A playlist Nino had made for him filled the air and Adrien’s mind cleared.

Halfway through breakfast, he remembered he’d never checked the mail yesterday. Not wanting his food to get cold, he dashed down to the mailroom of the complex and quickly opened his slot. As expected, there was a bundle of letters that he snatched before closing it and running back into his apartment.

He slowly shuffled through them while he ate. Most were worthless spam or worse. One from a modeling agency he’d worked for a month or two ago. Probably either thanking him for the work or pre-emptively asking for him to come back on for the winter lines. Considering his finances were doing alright, he’d likely pass on that and carefully set the letter aside. Reaching the bottom of the pile, he froze.

A familiar type of envelope in the same familiar handwriting of his father.

Everything in him told him it was a bad idea to read it. He never came out of it any better than when he went in. His heart was pounding in his chest and he began sweating. His breathing was ragged as his eyes flew over the page.

They were all the same. Every single one of them. Different words, same meaning.

‘I did what I had to.’

‘This was for YOU.’

‘Our family needed this.’

‘Put yourself in my shoes.’

‘Would you have done any different?’

The words flew past in a blur as his eyes glazed over. Before he could properly read it, a sharp voice drew him out of the downward spiral.

“I’m hungry!” Plagg whined as he flew in front of Adrien’s vision. “I’m wasting away here, kid. I need delicious, gooey camembert NOW.”

A smile tugged at his lips but didn’t reach his eyes as Adrien jolted to his feet to find his kwami’s breakfast.

----

While Adrien was distracted, Plagg narrowed his eyes and faced the letter. He was sorely tempted to just cataclysm it right here and now, to make sure his chosen would never be hurt by it again. But control of their powers had never been the forte of any of the kwami, least of all the kwami of destruction. Deciding that it was only barely not worth ruining the apartment, Plagg batted the letter into the trash. If only he’d had the opportunity to do the same to Gabriel himself.

Adrien returned with a quarter wheel of cheese, which Plagg took to eating with gusto. Adrien frowned as he looked on the counter.

“Hey, Plagg?” The kwami slowly looked up from his breakfast. “Do you know where that letter I was reading went?”

“Somewhere it belonged, I’m sure,” Plagg replied irritatedly. Adrien was about to speak again, so Plagg interrupted him. “So, date night, right? That’ll be something to look forward to.”

Just as expected, a dopey grin crossed Adrien’s face. Plagg could play the boy like a lute. “Yeah, it’ll be great to go out again. We don’t get to go on dates as much as I’d like.”

“That’s ‘cuz you’d want to go on dates every night,” Plagg pointed out.

“True,” Adrien conceded. “But I don’t hear you complaining.” He rested his head on his hands, almost flush with the table, putting him at eye height to Plagg. “Maybe because you have a love bug too that you get to cuddle with, hm?”

Plagg made a gagging sound. “Sugar cube and I don’t cuddle. We are ancient beings from the dawn of time.”

“Really? Curled up into each other like that, you could’ve fooled me. And what, exactly, is it that kwamis call it?”

“...Shut up.”

“And you have pet names for each other! Just like me and Mari. Sounds a lot like you two are dating, you know.”

Plagg slowly turned to Adrien and narrowed his eyes. “Shut. Up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Plagg. Truce?” Adrien scritched between his ears in just the right way.

Unable to fight his instincts, Plagg purred in spite of himself. Refusing to continue the conversation, he doubled down on eating his cheese. Adrien chuckled and returned to his breakfast.

Despite his denials, Plagg was looking forward to the date night, but for more than just seeing his Tikki. Plagg snuck glances at his charge, but Adrien seemed to be back to his usual peppy self again. He breathed a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted, barely.

------------

With how much she’d been pushing herself, it was bound to happen eventually. Late night studying. Early morning classes. Every hour crammed full of work. Between the darkness of the theater, the calm and pleasant movie, and the comfortable shoulder of her boyfriend, Marinette was destined to fail. None of that made it any less mortifying.

Marinette was gently shaken awake by Adrien as the credits rolled. It took a moment for his face to come into focus, but when it did the amusement was plain.

“Rough night, huh?”

She snorted. “More like rough semester.” She wrapped herself around his arm as they walked out, leaning on him as her eyelids grew heavy. Despite her best attempts, she yawned.

She felt him kiss the crown of her head. “My poor, sleepy bug. How about we bail on the restaurant part of our date and just head over to my place?”

Even in her exhausted state she managed a grin. “Why Adrien, you tom cat. And without even buying me dinner first.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “You’ll get your food. I just don’t want you face planting in your plate in public.”

“Oh, so it’s alright when I dive face first into my food, just so long as it's at your apartment?”

“Yes,” he said with a stoic expression. “Then when you drown in soup I will be slightly less embarrassed.”

“Oh, I see,” she deadpanned. “Well, as long as my impending doom isn’t an inconvenience to you.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

Their eyes met briefly, but that was enough to break their charade. Both of them broke out into giggles and the conversation passed into a comfortable silence as they made their way to Adrien’s apartment. At which point, she let out another big yawn.

He looked at her with a frown. “You going to make it, lovebug?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “You’re going to have to carry me.” She stuck out her tongue at him and took a step towards the elevator.

Naturally, she didn’t make it much further than the one step since Adrien swept her up into his arms.

She laughed. “I was joking you ridiculous man.”

“Princesses get carried to their towers,” he replied loftily. “I don’t make the rules.”

The strong, independent woman in her wanted to struggle and get down, but the very tired design student who was presently in control simply cuddled closer as she laid her head on his chest. She felt warm and secure and relaxed for the first time in days. She closed her eyes to listen to his heartbeat more clearly.

She must have drifted off since when she opened her eyes, she was laying on his couch. There was a delicious smell in the air that was enough to make her stand up, clutching the blanket Adrien must have draped over her.

He smiled as she approached his kitchen. “Hey bed bug. Done with your cat nap?”

“For now, at least.” She rested her head against his back as he stirred. “What’re you cooking?”

“Potato soup. Straight from your father’s cookbook.”

She hummed happily. “I can’t wait.”

“Take a seat, I’ll pour you a bowl when its done.”

She moved to do so and happened to walk past the garbage can. Her eyes were drawn towards an uncrumpled letter facing up. It wasn’t hard to recognize the writing - years of idolizing the man behind the brand had trained her well. Even if it had been even more years since that particular pedestal had been broken, never to be rebuilt. She cautiously lifted it from the trash and scanned the page. Ladybug levels of singular purpose parted the tired fog of her mind as her anger was stoked.

“Adrien…” Something in her voice caused him to turn around with a frown. When he saw what she was holding, his eyes widened. “...Have you read this?”

“S-some of them.” There was a tenseness to his shoulders that hadn’t been there a moment before. A stiffness to the way he held himself. “Only skimmed that one before… before I lost it.”

Lost it? Sounds like Plagg’s doing. Marinette made a mental note to sneak the little guy even more treats. Then her eyes widened in realization as his words caught up to her brain.

“Wait. ‘Some’ of them? There are others?”

Adrien swallowed and visibly paled.

In a heartbeat, Marinette was beside him, the blanket forgotten as it pooled on the floor behind her. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into her touch gratefully. With her other hand, she grabbed his forearm and squeezed.

“Oh, kitty…”

After a few more deep breaths, he got himself under control. He took the letter and folded it up neatly before stashing it high on his refrigerator.

“So, uh…” He said in a voice that only barely warbled. “Soups ready.”

She knew him well enough to let it lie… for now. Adrien didn’t like being pressed or forced to talk about things, but she trusted him enough to talk in his own time. For now, all she could do was take his mind off of it.

And if that meant chatting over a dinner of soup and then cuddling on the couch for a few hours… she wasn’t about to complain.

-----

It was morning when Marinette woke up. Apparently she’d been picked up yet again since now she found herself in Adrien’s bed, with the man himself nuzzled up underneath her chin.

As much as she wanted to sleep in, a glance at the clock proved that wasn’t likely. She groaned and tried to wriggle out of Adrien’s grasp.

“Nooo…” Adrien moaned into her collarbone. “Stay…”

“You know I’ve got classes, sunshine…”

He raised his head and pleaded at her with those big, green eyes. His bottom lip quivered with overplayed sadness. It was almost enough to break her right there, but sheer stubbornness carried her through this time.

“Nice try, and very cute, but it’s still a no.”

He sighed. “It was worth a shot. What if I drive you into class?”

“I…” She glanced at the clock again. “I’d actually appreciate that, thanks.”

“And if I happened to not have anything else to do today and brought you lunch later… I don’t suppose you’d appreciate that too?”

She tried to pout at him for babying her, but the warm smile he was giving her was proving contagious. Instead, she sighed and rolled out of his arms before walking into his shower room.

His laughter could be heard even through the door. “I didn’t hear a ‘no’, princess!”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Plagg #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #aged up #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

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mrslittletall · 5 years

Text

Title: The Crazy Cat Vicar (Chapter 3) Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Laurence the first Vicar, Gehrman the First Hunter, Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Micolash Host of the Nightmare Word Count: 1.580 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20989841/chapters/50845348 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/188448279139/title-the-crazy-cat-vicar-chapter-2

Summary: Laurence meets up with his friends and breaks the news to them.

(Author's note: While we are still at one cat and there is quite some world building in this, we will move to the other ones soon ^^)

Laurence was in this comfortable state of being that was laying between awake and asleep, aware that he was huddled in warm blankets and feeling safe and secure. He would certainly fall back asleep any time now, but there was something annoying him.

A shrill sound and a soft thing that pressed into his face.

“Hm, lemme sleep...”, Laurence murmured and turned around, tightening the blanket around him. The annoying noise didn't stop though. It was loud and shrill and annoying. The soft pressing at his cheek didn't stop either.

Was someone trying to wake him? Laurence was pretty sure he was in his office. Not even Florence came into his office to wake him, she would knock at the door first. Also, he doubted that the woman would try to wake him so aggressively. He wanted to raise his hand to shove away whatever annoyance it was when the soft pressing turned into a painful one.

“Ow!”, Laurence shot up, being fully awake in an instant, hand pressed against his cheek. He could feel warm blood at his fingers. And in front of him was Mick, softly mewing at him.

Oh right, he had picked up a kitten yesterday.

“...Is it morning already? I guess you must be hungry...”, Laurence freed himself out of the blankets, not exactly an easy task when one hand was busy keeping a bleeding wound from leaking all over the place and a cat was on the blanket. Once he started to shift though, Mick jumped from his lap.

“I think we need to cut your claws later...”, Laurence said, making a mental note to ask Florence if she had a nail cutter for him. His gaze was on the blood ministration equipment, but he decided against it. He just had one yesterday. And he shouldn't get one for such a tiny wound. He picked up a handkerchief from his desk and pressed it on the wound as he opened up a can with cat food that still stood on his desk.

Once the smell of apparently tuna flavoured food met Mick's nostril, the small thing started to scream as if he had been starving.

“It's alright, I am getting you your food.”, Laurence chuckled as he filled the can into Mick's bowl. Laurence watched Mick eat for a few seconds before he decided that he could start his day when he already was awake. He took his clothes with him and trekked to the bathroom.

Half an hour later he was showered and dressed. The wound on his cheek had stopped bleeding in the meantime but he still had felt more secure to put a piece of gauze on it which he fixated with some tape. Patching up wounds that couldn't be properly bandaged always felt like a hazard and he didn't had a clue if the gauze and tape would hold. Laurence wondered if something could be done against this...

As he was walking along the hallways with the intention to get some breakfast, he wondered why it was so quiet in the Church. Wasn't it morning already? The Church usually was more busy at the mornings.

His concerns got answered when a kitchen worker who carried some trash crossed him and said: “Oh Vicar? You are up early.”

“Huh, isn't it morning already?”, Laurence asked.

“It's 6 AM, we just started making breakfast.”, the worker said.

...What?!”, Laurence exclaimed. He thought it had been later. Just because Mick had woken him up. Great, if he had know that, he would have gone back to bed. Or, the couch in his case.

“I am afraid that you still have to wait for breakfast.”, the worker said further. “Oh, but if you like I could provide you with the usual.”

With that she meant the sandwich he often requested because he didn't attend dinner at the mess hall. “No, thanks.”, Laurence said. “I wanted to eat with the others today. I just go back into my office.”

“We will be sure to make it tasty.”, the worker said and gave him a swift bow. Laurence watched until she rounded the corner and then returned to his office. He was satisfied to see that he newspaper had been delivered and laid down in front of it while he had been busy showering. He picked the newspaper up and entered his office only to be greeted by an overwhelming stench.

Mick coming out of the litter box was the obvious reason for this stench. “Oh, by the Great One, how can something tiny like this produce such a smell?”, he said, a hand covering his mouth and nose. “...I have to take care of this first.”

A few minutes later the litter box was cleaned and Laurence sat down on his desk, reading the headline of the newspaper. “Blood Ministration treatment spreads throughout Yharnam.” it read. Lovely, the Church was on the first page. After skimming the article about the Church Laurence turned the page and searched for more interesting information. Mostly about the Anti Cainhurst Movement and which Noble managed to come along a fortune so that he knew which people he needed to sweet talk.

He wasn't even done with reading the headlines on the second page when a black furry orb appeared on the page. Two yellow eyes opened in the orb and with a mew it demanded attention.

“Mick, I am reading this.”, Laurence scolded the kitten and gently picked it up to set him down next to the newspaper.

Before he could even lay his eyes back on the newspaper, Mick came back and spread himself all over the newspaper.

“Mick!”, Laurence complained and picked the kitten back up again. Just as he had found an article he wanted to read closer, Mick came for a third time and sat on the exact same spot he just wanted to read.

“Stop this, Mick!”, Laurence picked the kitten up once again but before he set him down on the table, he considered that he just would get back onto the newspaper right again. Laurence lowered the kitten on his lap and scratched him behind the ears. “Stay here, will you?”

Mick let himself fall on his lap and started to purr. Laurence absentmindedly stroked over his fur as he continued to read his newspaper, this time in peace.

As Laurence was in the middle of solving the crosswords, Mick had gotten considerably warm in his lap. He raised his head when he heard a knock against his door and Micolash's voice sounded: “Ready, Laurence? Maria and Gehrman should be here soon.”

“Coming.”, Laurence said, gently picking Mick up from his lap which squeaked at the sudden motion and cold. Laurence put the kitten on the couch and hurried to the door.

“Good morning, Micolash.”, he said once he opened the door.

“Morning.”, Micolash answered. “Let's go, I am hungry.”

“Did you fall asleep without eating again?”, Laurence teased.

“You are one to talk.”, Micolash retorted. As they walked to the mess hall, Laurence had the impression that Micolash stared at this cheek but didn't say anything.

As they made it to the mess hall, Gehrman and Maria were already waiting for them. They went to their usual table where the breakfast got served. Scrambled eggs and bacon along with a piece of roasted bread, a classic. Like usual it wasn't salty enough for Laurence so he worked on giving his food a little more spice as Gehrman noticed the gauze on his cheek.

“What happened to your face, Laurence? Did you faint again?”, he asked.

“I haven't fainted since almost a year now!”, Laurence said. “Not until the first successful blood ministration.”

“Then what happened? Did you get into a fist fight?”, Gehrman asked.

“He would be in much more bad shape then.”, Micolash grinned and Laurence gave him an annoyed nudge.

“It's true.”, Maria commented from across the table and earned a glare of Laurence.

“Yes, fine, we all know I wouldn't win a fist fight.”, Laurence growled. “I adopted a kitten yesterday. The wound is from its claws.”

There was a bit of surprise in the faces of his friends before Maria was the first to speak: “Oh, can we see the kitten? How does it look like?”

“Pitch black and ruffled fur. Like Micolash.”, Laurence grinned, which earned him a nudge from said person.

“Hey, don't compare me with a cat.”, he complained.

“For seeing it... I would like for him to get used to the new situation first. So if you could wait a few days...”, he continued.

“You already given it a name?”, Gehrman asked.

“Mick.”, Laurence said which earned him a full tackle of Micolash.

“You even named it after me? I want to see it right away!”, he growled.

“Alright, you are the first one who gets to see him.”, Laurence quickly gave in.

“You seem to be happy about this.”, Gehrman said and Maria nodded in agreement.

“Well, I always wanted a cat but it wasn't possible at the school...”, Laurence said.

“It's fine, just give the little guy some love. I am sure he is in the best hands.”, Gehrman grinned.

Laurence nodded and smiled. He planned too. He would absolutely shower this cat with his love and affection. (Author’s note: So, any cat owner knows that a cat just having used the litter box is the worst smell ever... I looked it up, band-aids weren't invented until the 20th century, so I had to get creative with the stuff they had in the 19th one ^^ I headcanon that Laurence invented the blood vials later and because this is still early in the church, he isn't downright addicted to the blood yet. What was your favourite part of this chapter? I would be honoured if you tell me in a comment. Thank you very much!) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/189758597959/title-the-crazy-cat-vicar-chapter-4-fandom

#bloodborne #fanfiction #laurence the first vicar #micolash host of the nightmare #gehrman the first hunter #lady maria of the astral clocktower #littlewritesstuff

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underoos-shield · 5 years

Text

little italy

summary: peter’s first day in a foreign country

warning: peter speaking italian

A/N: hello angels, i just rewatched ‘call me by your name’ and this fic series is going to be based on it. i hope you guys like it 💓 also, i’m trying to learn italian this year, so 99% of these translations are through google. please let me know if there are any errors so i can fix them!

so far, italy was beautiful. it was 6 in the afternoon when peter and his class arrived and the sun was setting, casting a beautiful glow on the buildings and architecture around them. it was golden hour in the beautiful city of milan.

peter had to resist the urge to kiss the floor once they made it out of the aircraft. the flight from new york to milan was eight hours too long, and peter had always hated airplanes, anyway. his family had a bad history with the huge machine and he was happy to be back on the ground. but he wasn’t home free yet, they still had an hour bus ride to get from the milan airport to their actual hotel in bergamo, italy.

after grabbing his luggage and typing a quick message to may, peter walked out of the airport and on the bus with the rest of his classmates.

ned was sitting next to the window near the center of the bus and the boy was furiously turning his head left and right as if he was afraid to miss anything. it was only their first day. and they had plenty of time for sightseeing.

they had to return home in a month, which was great, but the trip was expensive and peter was so grateful that may allowed him to go. although may had to take dozens of extra shifts to cover the expenses, it was worth seeing her boy’s excitement.

“what do you want to see first?”. ned breaks the silence as peter reads ‘call me by your name’ by andré aciman. he’s reading the italian version though, wanting to get a better grip on how to properly speak the language. although he’s completed the four years of learning italian at school and has gotten an a+ in every grading period, peter was slightly obsessed with mastering every hobby he had, and his latest one was one of the romance languages.

“not sure”, he says as he keeps his index finger under the sentence he was reading. one of peter’s pet peeves was losing his place, especially when he was reading a good book. “i’m hoping wherever we go has food. i’m starving”, peter laughs. ned agrees, none of the kids had had a proper meal in hours.

they stop at a small cafe in piazza vecchia. it was a beautiful place with amazing architecture. the contarini fountain was displayed at the center of it, decorated with sculptures of lions. peter lifted up his sunglasses until they rested on top of his head, holding back the mocha curls that he had spent a few months growing out. he’s just about to tell ned how happy he is to be there when a sweet voice fills his ears.

“benvenuto in italia!” (welcome to italy!).

the young boy frowns and lifts onto the balls of his feet to see who could have spoken those words, surely not any of his classmates. and although it was a simple sentence, peter had never heard of anything more beautiful in his life.

a young girl with gorgeous skin and silky hair greeted them once they had taken their seats at the small cafe. she was wearing a loose and flowy summer dress that made her appear to be sweet and innocent. her hair was out and slightly frizzy from the light wind. the stunning stranger’s voice was so velvety and peter raised his eyebrows once he got to look at her clearly.

she was so beautiful.

peter slips his way past his classmates to the front of the small crowd. she looked so different from the girls he had seen back home, none of them quite catching his eye the way she has.

her eyes skim over everyone and peter just about loses it when she smiles at him. she takes a moment to look over his appearance, and she admires him in his white t-shirt and beige khakis. he looks so american. his chocolate curls and brown eyes were basic, but attractive and captivating for some reason.

“per favore, lascia che ti faccia fare uno spuntino” (please, let me get you all a snack).

and by a snack, she apparently meant a platter of crackers, fancy cheeses (that even peter had a hard time pronouncing), and a plethora of different meats.

he’s starving, not having real food for almost half-a-day, but peter can only muster a few bites. although peter knows he should been enjoying the moment rather than spending it reading his new book, he can’t help but distance himself from his excited classmates. he likes to be alone sometimes.

“ciao, come va?” (hello. how are you?). music fills peter’s ears once again and it takes him a moment to realize someone was actually speaking to him. peter looks up from his page and is met with a friendly smile. he sits up from his bad posture and smiles back at her as he closes his book, this time not marking his place. he replies, saying he’s doing well, and tries not to get lost in her eyes as she introduces herself.

“sei molto carina” (you are very pretty). a small, shy laugh emerges from her and she tucks her hair behind her ears, allowing peter to see her beautiful face even clearer now. his eyes cast over her nose and mouth and finally her ears. he hums to himself as he sees her non-pierced earlobes...it was just something to notice.

“perché non sei con i tuoi amici?” (why are you not with your friends?). there’s genuine concern in her voice and she’s worried he might have not liked the snack she made for them.

“mi piace essere solo ogni tanto” (i like to be alone sometimes). it was odd to her, she didn’t understand it. she loved being with her friends at all times...maybe it was an american thing?

the girl-peter now knowing she goes by y/n- politely nods. she wasn’t a very judge-y person.

y/n lifts her neatly polished nails on the table, inching closer and closer to peter’s softcover copy. she’s impressed that he’s reading in her native language.

“posso leggerlo con te?” (may i read it with you?).

of course peter said yes. how could he refuse? it would have been foolish of him to say no. and he was happy he didn’t, especially now that her head was lightly resting on his shoulder.

the pair read a full chapter together, perfectly in sync until it got too dark to read. even their breathing evened out to match the other’s.

she left with a soft “ciao” and two kisses on peter’s cheeks. she would be seeing him tomorrow morning along with the rest of his class, they had breakfast planned out.

peter happily leapt into bed once he was in the comfort of his and ned’s hotel room. although his roommate had bid him a good night already, peter still kept his bedside light on. he was caught up in thought about his book, although he couldn’t think of much since most of his memory was filled with thoughts of y/n.

peter shakes his head as he grabs his copy from his bag, realizing he’s forgotten all about the chapter.

andré aciman summed it up perfectly; But it might have started way later than I think without my noticing anything at all... How couldn’t I have known, you ask? I know desire when I see it—and yet, this time, it slipped by completely.

chapter 2

tags! (plz let me know if u want to be removed)

@ephermcls @directionerfae @milkyholland @tomshufflepuff @spideychronicles @unicorntrooper @cloudyyparker @spideyphysics @evrthngblvk @im-marvels-slut @spdys @legendarypenofeating @mrvlfangirl3190 @sarepurdy @bbscx1987 @honeymarvel @emistrash @bisexual-jesus-jr @schyuler @stylemute @shuriwithparker @deviantsupporter @unknwn98 @ohhowiwishtobemrsstyles @unusual-kindred-spirits @bands-and-shietz @midtownhighs @iwillalwaysreturm @softestgalaxy @peterbparkerthsecondblog @tangledmusee @stydia-4-ever @bbyeliza @spideylovely

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man homecoming #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #spider man fanfiction #little italy fic #underoosshield #underoos-shield #call me by your name #cmbyn #parkersletters #collab #love her!!!#peter parker au

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starbudspresents · 6 years

Text

DGM 230 - Panthaleia’s Translation Notes

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN

That is, your quarterly reminder that I'm still alive! As are the rest of StarBuds, hip hip hooray.

Big gorgeous 35-page chapter this time around, so let's jump right in!

1.) I have been informed that the cityscape referenced in the opening setting panels here is Edinburgh, Scotland:

Edinburgh is in fact in Scotland, buuuut this is somewhat complicated by the fact that Hoshino-sensei did something weird with the naming here (wow, shock).

Though she calls London "London" and Paris "Paris" and is therefore presumably fine with giving real-world cities their real-world names, she calls the town our heroes just landed in "Edinston" rather than "Edinburgh" and says it's in "Igirisu," which is a Japanese world describing both the United Kingdom and — more commonly — England in particular. There are existing Japanese words for both "Scotland" and "Edinburgh," and they are notably not used.

To be as safe as possible, I've transliterated the town name directly and used "Britain" wherever "Igirisu" was used, to leave the door open for either possibility to be true.

As for Allen's nationality: that's still up in the air, too, because this town is only where he met Mana in the circus and the events of Lost Fragment of Snow transpired, not where he was born or where he joined up. He's definitely from somewhere in the UK, but beyond that? Pick your favourite and have fun, haha.

2.) HALLELUJAH AMEN, IT'S RAINING MEN (enjoy those nightmares, kids! :D)

3.) Oh my god, they forgot the bracelets. Rest in pieces.

(Also: the implication that if Komui had made them they were probably broken because things Komui makes work so terribly well the people whose lives they're meant to improve often end up worse off in the end is both hilarious and painful. See: Komurin. But because Reever made it, coming off is a failsafe meant to protect the users from unforeseen circumstances, because he actually thinks things all the way through most of the time.)

4.) "the ground smells different" I mean okay to be entirely fair, this is a real thing that I've noticed myself, but this is still... so funny.... such a dog person thing to say.....

5.) The "one more step" line was more literally "if you intend to keep running any more than this," with the implication that Kanda would rather just kill him right now and have done than take one more step in his pursuit. (Kandas are natural sprinters; very dangerous over short distances.)

6.) lmao

Allen: okay are you going to save me or kill me, please choose one

Kanda: both? both is good

8.) Okay now for a bit of the kind of thing I actually make these posts for:

"神の結晶" (kami no kesshou) is a very interesting term that was first (and possibly only ever the once, I still haven't read all the raws) used in chapter 007, during Komui's guided tour of the Order:

Komui: A substance of mysterious power some call the "crystal of God."

The fun thing about this is that while pretty much everyone opted to translate kesshou as "crystal" — the "crystal of God" — the word also (and more often) means "crystallization (of)". As in, Innocence is the crystallized and shattered body of God.

Funnily enough, when I went back to 197 to find a panel for the next point, I also found this while skimming:

Image

Guro!Tokusa: We [AKUMA] will [kill/destroy] God (f: the Innocence).

The kanji say "God", the furigana say "Innocence," and that is what Hoshino does when things are meaningfully related and/or synonymous. By destroying the Innocence, they are killing God, because the Innocence was not made by God, but of God.

Soooo since this is my translation and that felt like a Sign, I'm going with "crystallization," to hell with it.

9.) This part is new favourite ever, oh my god. Kanda not only understanding the feelings of others, but trying to teach empathy to Allen?? Oh, how the turntables~!

And then!! Allen accusing Kanda of sticking his nose in where it isn't welcome, and Kanda's like "POT, KETTLE, ASSHOLE" because this is exactly what Allen did to/for him in North America over Alma. "Call this payback for what you said" refers to this bit in 197:

Allen: You're not even trying to face Alma head-on...

Kanda: Now who isn't facing things head-on?

ALSOOOO the callback to chapter 005, wherein Kanda cut Allen's arm with Mugen for an entirely different reason:

Allen's self-sacrificing hypocrisy, however well meant, is being called out increasingly hard as the story goes on, and I'm all about it. He keeps trying to make people's decisions for them, and though it's true that he's doing it because he's scared for them, it's still not at all his call to make. He's treating them like children, not his friends, and ignoring their very clearly stated wish to see this through with him, but even so they're standing firm on the decisions they made for themselves. justcommunication.mp3

9.) And the flipside: despite his terror of seeing his loved ones hurt, he actually is still properly scared for himself and desperately doesn't want to be alone. Their presence made everything both worse for him (because they cranked up the stakes even higher being within impact range) and better (because he wasn't alone in the sightless, murderous dark). His torn heart here is so real and it hurts just to watch. In the best of ways.

10.) Aaaand there's where the "fool" line comes back in: when Allen accepts that he's guilty of exactly the same thing he took Kanda to task for, and they've just exchanged shoes. This chapter is a gift to me personally, thank you Hoshino-no-kami.

11.) He's grieving for Tim properly now, thank god. This is tremendously painful too, but so much better than the blank dissociation from before. Now he can walk on through the rest of the grieving process with everything moving within him as it should.

12.) I definitely thought for a hot minute that the Mana-marked tree was Cornelia and he jumped them straight to the mansion, but it's definitely not. It's in a small square in a city, whereas Cornelia is on the vast Canbell property, and it wouldn't make any sense for the circus to have been parked on the front lawn of the place Mana ran away from. So the plot isn't jumping ahead quite as fast as I initially thought, but it is going somewhere!! For real!!!

13.) The little "is your stomach empty, too" aside is because he thinks Allen is grubbing around in the dirt for food. (Take a glance at the fancy ants and maybe... try a few? ♫)

14.) Furigana on "Allen" in "where Allen was born" say "I," and "born" really says "hajimari", "beginning". I took a tiny bit of poetic liberty on that one and I don't think it'll affect anything but if it does, now you know.

What a killer chapter, I'm so delighted. January is going to be amazing.

If you have any questions, or think I've made any mistakes (entiiiiirely possible), drop me an ask or hit me up @Panthaleia9705 on Discord! I'm not actively participating in fandom right now but I will still respond if I'm hailed, haha. <3

#dgm 230 #dgm230 #dgm #d gray man #dgm meta #panthaleia

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gonnagetyoubaby · 6 years

Text

Anonymous - Taehyung/ Part 9

In which you decide to text a number scrawled on the walls of your lecture hall.

Genre: Fluff

Chapters: {1} {2} {3} {4} {5} {6} {7} {8} {9} To Be Continued…

Tagged readers: @rainbow-pandacorn

Your thumbs tapped across the glass, sending a quick “done” followed by a series of thumbs-up emojis—just enough to reciprocate the number you’d received from Jimin.

The music continued to play from your phone speaker as you placed it on the dresser, returning your attention to the curler beside it. With quick twirls, you steamed away the frizz and shapelessness of the last layer of hair tied to your crown. Rubbing serum into your palms, you ran your fingers through your hair, heading to the en-suite bathroom to wash the excess from your hands before giving yourself one last once-over.

This wasn’t Broadway, sure, but you weren’t really dressed for Broadway, were you?

The onslaught of athleisure culture on campus made your chiffon blouse and skirt ensemble look painfully formal, and the last thing you would want anyone—especially Jimin—to think is that you put any genuine thought into this outfit (even if that was the case).

Your phone vibrated from the bedroom. Striding over, you read the notification from your lockscreen.

Jimin: Almost there. Make sure you wear something nice love 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

There was no way you were reciprocating those emojis. With a sidelong glance at your closet, you let yourself think about maybe, potentially changing real quick. Leggings and a sweater were never the wrong decision. The chiffon blouse might be a bit much, no? It seemed a little try-hard. And you certainly were not a try-hard. Not for Jimin. And definitely not for what’s-his-name. But, as luck would have it, the phone in your palm lit up with another message.

Jimin: Here.

The outfit only says as much as the attitude you adopt when you wear it anyways. Glancing in the dresser mirror one last time, you nodded in satisfaction. Blessed be the Gods who granted you a face so naturally apathetic, even the nicest outfit couldn’t make you appear approachable. Grabbing your bag, you headed downstairs, shutting the door behind you.

The fact that Jimin drove a coupe should have come as no surprise to you. He leaned over the steering wheel waving at you through the passenger window. You skipped over the foliage by the dorm gate and slipped into the car. He flashed a hundred watt smile.

“You look nice.” He almost giggled, the words dripping with innuendo.

“Let’s just go.” You mumbled back, sinking into the chair.

The smile never faltering on his lips, he shifted gears, zooming away, ever the speed demon.

“You know we’re still technically in a school zone.”

“It’s a college campus, love. We’re all adults here.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, switching lanes as he found himself behind one of the school shuttle buses strolling at a leisurely 30 miles per hour. “Besides, you wanna get good seats, don’t you?”

"This isn't a reserved seating type of thing?"

He arched a brow, lip twitching. "Have you been to a theater performance before?"

You turned to stare out the window, "I mean, once or twice... when I was in middle school..."

Although you didn't see his face, the scoff was enough to let you gauge his reaction.

"Since middle school?" his voice went up an octave, "How do you expect to date- uh- my friend---"

"Damn, you'll slip his name one of these days---"

"--If you don't even like theater?"

You rolled your eyes, turning to him again, "First of all, I don't wanna date him--"

"Mmmmmmmmmmhmm--"

"-- And second, I don't not like it, I just... never got around to going."

The car inched forward, still behind the shuttle, stopping yet again. Jimin mumbled a curse as the rear lights flashed and the shuttle slowed. He sighed, glancing at you, "Well, you'll like this one. It's a good one to break your musical virginity with."

"I'm not a---"

"Middle school doesn't count, love."

"Whatever." you half-laughed, leaning an elbow on the sill of the window, resting your head in your palm, "It better be good."

"Are you doubting our talents?" he smirked.

"If Mystery Man acts anything like he texts, then..."

Jimin burst into a peal of laughter, turning back to the road, "He's pretty great, actually. You'll enjoy his performance."

Even as his laugh faded, the secret smile lingered on his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed your glare, chuckling softly, "I'm not telling you, okay? You're lucky I even told you this much."

"Well, what's the point of going if I don't even know who I'm looking for?" you whined, arms flailing in front of you.

The shuttle continued forward and Jimin pressed on the accelerate, your body jutting forward as the car hummed to life. The smirk on his lips told you it wasn't an accident.

"And why aren't you performing?" you frowned, pushing your hair back from where it'd fallen over your eyes, "I thought you were both in the production."

He shook his head, the car speeding up and swerving around the shuttle via the left lane. Your hand clutched at the armrest, a sharp "Jesus!" falling from your lips.

"We have to do at least one backstage production for a major requirement-- you know, to get some experience behind the scenes-- and I volunteered for this one."

He faced you, grinning from ear to ear, "I did the choreography."

You gave him a tight smile, clutching the dashboard as he took a sharp turn.

"Do you wanna slow down a little?" you mumbled, voice shaking slightly.

Unfazed, Jimin zoomed down the street, one hand off the wheel to point at the time, "We're gonna be late. Just hold on, love."

You muttered a short prayer-- apparently not quiet enough, as Jimin giggled and, for no other reason than sadistic pleasure, you were sure, sped up.

The congestion of the parking lot might have suggested Jimin was right to speed up. Although the time on the dashboard indicated you still had a good twenty minutes before the show started, the lot was almost entirely packed, forcing (or at least that was how he phrased it) Jimin to park on the grass. The car fizzled off as he glided out, heading over to help you out, arm naturally coming around your shoulders as he guided you towards the repertory theater. Through your classes and study sessions together, you’d come to learn Jimin was an innately touchy person, which also meant you could easily brush him off without inspiring offense, so you weren’t surprised when he barely noticed you sidestepping his arm.

“You didn’t even tell me what the production is.”

Jimin stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, shrugging with a sly smile. “No point in ruining the surprise now. You’ll see when we get inside.”

He skipped ahead, compelling you to half-run to keep up.

The congestion of the parking lot should have warned you of the state of the main hall, yet, even so, you weren’t prepared for the sheer number of bodies crowded together waiting to get in. The ushers, clad in staff shirts, manned the double doors, eyeing the clock by the entrance.

“The show starts in fifteen.” Jimin yelled into your ear over the cacophony of voices, “They’ll start letting people in soon.”

You nodded, eyes scanning over the crowd, the posters on the wall too obstructed by the bodies to properly read. Sure enough, in a matter of minutes, the double doors opened and the ushers began collecting tickets in exchange for programs. The crowd slowly formed a makeshift double line, shuffling forward.

When you’d finally reached the doors, Jimin pulled out two tickets, handing them to the usher. She returned a thick program, which he handed off to you. As he guided you to your seats, arm around your shoulders again, you read the front of the packet.

“The Great Gatsby?” your eyes widened, “I didn’t know there was a play for this.”

“Musical.” He corrected, moving you in front of him to enter the aisle, “Sit there, A6.”

He sat beside you, taking the program, “And you’re right, it’s been transcribed.”

“From the book?”

“From the movie.” He flipped through the pages, showing you a list of scenes, “The new one, you know? They used the songs and assigned some of them to characters. So, like, Daisy does a number for Young and Beautiful, Jordan Baker’s gonna perform at the party, and so on. It’s cool right?”

You nodded, looking over the group photo beside the list of scenes. Jimin squatted in the front row, holding up a peace sign and flashing a hundred watt smile like the rest of the cast and crew. You smiled to yourself, looking over their faces. There were a number of boys, none of whom stood very close to Jimin.

“Are you looking for your Mystery Man?” he teased from beside you.

You glanced up, hoping the blush on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the dim auditorium lighting, “No. Just looking.”

“Which one do you think he is?”

You pressed your lips together, “If I guess right, would you tell me?”

He thought for a moment before grinning, “No.”

“Then what’s the point of guessing?” you folded your arms, leaning back in your chair. He laughed lightly to himself, handing you the program.

“You’ll see him on stage. I told you he was one of the major characters, didn’t I?”

“There’s several major male characters in this. He could be Tom Buchanan for all I know. ” You sighed, before remembering his texts. You flipped through the program to the last page, listing the cast and crew, the short instance of excitement shriveling up at the sight. The first page alone has at least 10 names.

“I thought only the relevant characters get bios,” you whined, “The whole goddamn cast is on here.”

Jimin bit back a laugh, perhaps deciding no response was the best response. Nonetheless, you skimmed over the names. Kim Brian, Woo Jiyeon, Im Kaerim, Kim Taehyung. The short bios gave little away other than their theater credentials, and that wasn’t going to help you either. With a sigh, you closed the program, just as the lights dimmed.

“How about this?” Jimin whispered, leaning into your ear, “By the end of the play, if you can guess who your mystery man is, I’ll tell you.”

“Why not now?” you leaned in as well, holding up the program, “I have the picture.”

The orchestra began to play, the strings lilting with Jimin’s laugh, “What’s the fun in that? Then you’ll know before it’s even started.”

A husky voice began to narrate over the speakers, “In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice.”

“Or you know I won’t be able to guess when he’s in costume.”

“"Always try to see the best in people," he would say.” The voice continued.

“You don’t even know what he looks like without costume.”

“As a consequence, I'm inclined to reserve all judgments.”

You bit your lip. The stage lights faded in, and, for reasons beyond your comprehension, your mind wandered to the last conversation you’d had with the man behind those anonymous texts; to the abrupt way he’d ended your conversation. And to the realization, he hadn’t reached out to you since. You turned to Jimin, wringing the program in your hands.

“Fine.”

He grinned and nodded towards the stage. You turned.

Illuminated at the center of the stage, situated at a desk, was Nick Carraway. A dusty brown mop of hair hunched over the table, writing rapidly in a notebook, the sound of his fountain pen scratching the parchment sounding through the speakers. The orchestra matched the sound with screeching violins, building to a crescendo until it ceased altogether. The man sighed, slowly sitting back and looking out at the audience. For a moment, he said nothing, and you didn’t realize you were holding in your breath, until his gaze reached your side of the audience—or was it only you? The stage was close enough that you could make out the flicker of a frown across his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin smile. Nick Carraway’s lips parted, eyes lingering on yours before he stared into the abyss of the audience.

“But even I have a limit.”

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abundantchewtoys · 5 years

Text

Homestuck Epilogues: Prologue, reaction post part 1

So me and Blaperile have decided to start reading it now. I kind of hope the format & art style stays true to form, but then again, change could be interesting. In any case, if this epilogue were to include the already posted snaps, that would be a break from format in image size (not including the credits, of course).

I guess if there is immediately an [S] page, it'll be the second one, not the first, to give use aheads up in the command.

Okay, so the first is a title page.

The link to the next page says... homestuck.com/epilogues/proglogue. Andrew, NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

(Yeah okay, so it has begun. Again.)

I could see the snaps being the prologue, since they kind of set the stage for what's to come. Jane taking control over The Felt being a major development, for one. Also, the noted absence of Davepetasprite^2 & Arquiusprite on Earth C. Or, perhaps rather, the noted presence of all the other sprites, they didn't stop being spirit guides after the game ended. And in the credits of course, there was John's being aggravated by Caliborn to the point this all would lead presumably to the clay doll scene Caliborn showed us, taking place further into the future than any of us had business viewing at the time.

---

> Start

AAAAAAHHHHH, Homestuck's a fanfic now!!! Yes, this is the Archive of Our Own format, including tags and... Andrew is no longer sole author of this story!!!

We have achieved MAXIMUM FANDOM (or should I say FANON).

Characters: Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-h... Barack Obama?! :P I guess maybe John switched to a Baracktop in light of out-of-story events, plus of course Dave's idolization of the man. :P And Aranea returns!! And Davepeta too, cool! ... Wait, there's gonna be new OCs?? :P ... In before Joey & Jude & troll friends join the Homestuck madness. Well, if we can rely on this list of course. This IS Andrew Hussie we're talking about, of course.

Hmmm, Blaperile has a good point that Davepeta & Arquius are mentioned but not their component A2 trolls, since the "main" versions of them (post-retcon) are inside the sprites! And that all these characters except maybe for Caliborn (pre-LE, I mean) MIGHT just end up in the Furthest Ring together to do... whatever there needs to be done with the black hole aftermath of the standoff between Vriska & LE. And Calliope seems to be joining them, which is a nice thing to look forward too, main Calliope doing a plot thing. ... No mention of carapaces, but again, that doesn't have to mean anything.

Caliborn's entry seems to me to imply we might see the claydoll fight animated (or at least drawn) properly! :D

Barack is probably an Easter Egg just, nothing more. Which is funny because Easter is coming.

Content warnings: ... All these things (well not all of them, but) just refer to things mentioned in Homestuck proper. :P Quite the list we racked up, eh? Also, Gamzee hath invaded the list: clowns, honk... Hahah. Surprised "horses" didn't make it on here. And puppets. So I know I was saying I don't really believe these tags to truthfully warn about things to come in this epic, but I'm kind of scared by the mention of Trickster Mode. :P ... Oh yeah, hahah, that WAS something that happened at the wedding, didn't it, Calliope bringing the sucker & transforming John & the B2 kids? So that thing survived the end of the session we know.

Another thing making me uncomfortable is all the illicit subjects the warnings are about, but yeah, that's what a lot of fanfics contain.

Summary: ... Ooooh, so John DIDN'T immediately take off to fight Caliborn! That's... I actually had wagered the epilogue to start on April 13th, 2019 thinking about it over the weekend. It would just seem so fitting, but I thought it might have been so that the B2 kids would have aged a relative 2 years during the time the B1 kids were stuck in the house. So that they could go back to filling that big brother/sister relationship that was kind of always there, first & foremost shown in the Strider Bros, later when we didn't know yet that the kids would be the same age when they'd meet up, during Act 6 Act 1.

Blaperile has a good point, this means Terezi has been exploring the Furthest Ring for 7 years (or almost 4 sweeps).

Contents: This looks like it could grow into a list. Since, well, this is the prologue just yet for the epilogue hahah. Then again, maybe we 'return' to this page after the prologue is done, only for the list to have grown with the next... "act".

> Prologue

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH WALL OF TEXT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH HOMESTUCK IS A FANFIC NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW for real. ... Oh dear god.

Well, it's definitely a medium Andrew didn't touch on yet, the "picture this for yourselves" type of fiction. Kind of incentive for people to draw this for themselves.

And then Homestuck became a serialized novel. :D

Okay that entire first sentence. I'm definitely on the same page here as everyone when I say this must be about the Furthest Ring cracking. ... I think Andrew's propensity for dragging out a story comes over quite well in fanfic prose form.

Hmm... So, "eternity" is being filled by the black hole, and continuity is buckling up? Seems like the entirety of Homestuck proper might be at risk of being undone in something more damaging than a mere retcon.

Wow, nice vivid description of the dreambubbles being shattered. "Hypothetical futures", does that suggest that the ghosts of alternate timelines were more like... mirages? That's a harsh thing to swallow, and not something any of them would have been happy hearing stated as fact. Well, except the Aradiabots, maybe. "Double-death" mention!

... So there's a symphony at the center of the black hole. Does that mean Alternate Calliope still lives (or well, "exists"), as the conductor of the havoc? It's super black at the center, apparently. Like, Vantablack?

Wait, "> Wake up"? Did John dream about the Furthest Ring? ... What DO the kids dream, after they won the game? Or rather, where do they dream?

"You've been dreaming in anime again." Ah yes, there's the first real meme of the evening. So, John rejects this dramatic dream and will rather substitute his own fantasies? :P

"> Look outside just to make absolutely sure the world is not ending." --> Why does it feel like we've started this adventure anew? Why are command prompts working out so well in this format?

'The only sound you can hear for miles is the wind skimming the hollows of your neighbors’ pipe homes.' Well, if that isn't a reference to his atmospheric page! And oh yeah, that was his new neighbourhood! Or, after 7 years, not 'new' anymore, I guess.

'It’s a normal day in the salamander village, which you refer to as Salamander Village because the damned salamanders never bothered to give this village a name, you guess.' Perfection. So, it appears the consort species remain the same, no matter how many millenia may pass. I wouldn't like to be a mail person in the Consort Kingdom, if all packages are to be delivered at Salamander Village. Then again, the Breeze might still be on mail duty on Earth C.

'Beside your pillow, your phone is vibrating. Rose is calling. The screen of your phone reads 9:30 a.m. April 13, and also the number forty-six, which is how many text messages your friend left you while you were sleeping. A bit excessive, even for her.' Ahahahah, so even in texts Rose is wordy!! Good to see they kept in contact, then. Not as much in-person contact, seeing the credits, but then again, the kids always used to live apart, didn't they? (I can still call them 'the kids', even if we're no longer a decade apart in age. Get of my lawn!)

"> Answer the phone." Yessssss, coloured text logs!! In the absence of drawings, it would've really sucked a little and be bland if we'd lacked this.

Aww, April 13th is still a solemn day for John. :/ Rose is calling it "April Thirteenth" as if it's a holiday, which it might just be. Blaperile has a good point that John has called Rose directly, and isn't texting. The immediate assumption for what Rose said, was that they don't talk a lot, but maybe they don't CALL each other a lot, just trade messages!

"You wander to the window and watch the salamanders go about their day. All over the neighborhood, the little dad-salamanders are putting on their little rumpled hats and picking up their little suitcases and kissing their little families goodbye for the day. You’ve always been confused about what, exactly, they contribute to the global economy. But it’s pretty cute how much they love playing at being suburban businessmen."

Pfff, the rumple hats are still a thing, guess the kids really did shape this universe in much the same way as the session! (Okay yeah, so, consorts came over from the session too, so the fact that the custom remains to the current day might just be another showcase for the status quo that consorts live under when not interacting with PCs...) Of course, this is going to sting for John, all this dadly business going around.

"The silence over the phone is growing awkward. You’ve stalled long enough. You decide to just come out and say it.

JOHN: i’ve been dreaming in anime again lately."

Aaaaaand meme number two is here. Blaperile mentioned Act 7, and yeah, John DID dream about the Furthest Ring & the blackhole, both centerpice in the Act 7 animated video. :P

"ROSE: i see." Therapist mode, engaged. Next, ask him how he feels about the dream, Rose.

"JOHN: whenever i have these dreams, everything’s breaking apart.

JOHN: millions of people are screaming and dying." Huh, is it that John didn't recognize the ghosts (being the oblivous bloke he is), or is there something more to the danger of the black hole? After all, after all of the Furthest Rings is swallowed, what's left is sessions and the universes they spawned...

"A couple yards over, a salamander blows an astounding spit bubble. Truly one for the books." Meanwhile...

"ROSE: I don’t have the slightest idea what it means that you’ve been dreaming in anime, John.

ROSE: To be honest, I...

You wait for Rose to finish her thought. She doesn’t, which is troubling because you have never known Rose to leave a thought unfinished in over ten years of acquaintance." ... Did she have a Light vision, or is someone pulling her sleeve about this or other with the troll grubs? It just hit me, we might be in for some new venues in the relationships between the humans & trolls, since yeah, they're all adults now.

"JOHN: rose... are you ok?

ROSE: Not exactly.

JOHN: what’s wrong?

ROSE: I think my condition’s been getting worse lately.

JOHN: condition?

ROSE: It’s why my message probably sounded urgent.

JOHN: you left 46 messages.

ROSE: Yes. They were all urgent.

JOHN: oh.

ROSE: I don’t think I can wait much longer before telling you."

So, Blaperile was theorizing Kanaya or Rose might be pregnant based on her trailing off. I dismissed it out of hand, but now... It would be just something for Rose to designate a pregnancy as a "condition". ... And to see contractions as a worsening of that condition. If John just talked about anime over Rose trying to tell him the baby is coming, I might just scream. And it's on HIS birthday, too!

"ROSE: I held out for as long as I could. I figured your birthday was as good a time as any to let you know.

JOHN: let me know what?

ROSE: It’s crept up on me, these last couple of years.

ROSE: Gradually enough to ignore as it was happening, but I can’t anymore." Okay, so this seems to dismiss that. I'm actually somewhere halfway between "Rose is suffering from some sort of aspect-driven migraine/dementia due to the black hole", or secondly "Rose is realizing she loves John (platonically)". I mean, the latter would be standard-issue Lalonde fuckery.

"ROSE: Lately the visions have been overwhelming.

JOHN: visions??

ROSE: John, I have terrible headaches these days. Talking on the phone doesn’t help at all.

ROSE: Would you mind flying to my apartment, so we can continue this in person?

JOHN: oh, yeah. you mean...

JOHN: now?

ROSE: Yes, now is the time.

ROSE: I’ve put it off long enough." ... Oh. So, I guess Rose was ignoring these visions because she was like "fuck you, multiverse, I earned my happy ending", which I get, but... What visions does she have, do they match what John was describing? (I don't think she wants to get him over for a surprise birthday party, in any case.)

Wow, okay, so whatever drove them to go fight Caliborn, it wasn't just John convincing the rest of them. Should've known, he was never that kind of leader.

"As you hang up the phone, a familiar feeling settles over you. A feeling of...standing? Standing, and being alone. In your bedroom. As a young man. On your birthday. You swear you’ve felt this feeling before. It’s almost like...

A young man stands alone in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, is this young man’s birthday. Though it was twenty-three years ago when he was given life, and ten years ago when he was given a name, it feels like it is only today that he will begin to understand what all that means.

That young man is YOU, John Egbert.

What will you do?"

Oh HELL yes. That first shoutout was glorious, but the actual word for word callback? Priceless. And the fact that the narration gives John the initiative for what happens now? Glorious. Because it sure as hell ain't gonna be US giving him prompts, this time around. And what in the high hills is there for John to find out about what it all means! I mean, is he going to discover the nature of his existence as a fictional character? Because that might just crush his widdle brains.

Okay, this is as good a place as any to cut off this liveblog. Since I'm not sure how long this prologue might continue after this!

Cooooool though, we've started this journey anew. For however long it's going to last. Which, given the fact the epilogues get their own entry on the Homestuck site... Might be a very, very long time. It's three years since the ending of Homestuck, and I wonder how reading up is going to be. For now, everything kind of fell back into the old pattern between me and Blaperile. We'll see what we'll do next.

I'm equal parts exhilarated and anxious about getting on Mr. Hussie's wild rollercoaster again, so I'm going to try and quarantine the anxious part and cultivate the exhilarated part.

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #homestuck epilogues #furthest ring #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert

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bieups · 6 years

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60th TOPIK!

I took TOPIK II last weekend, and what an experience.

Because I was late signing up (@9:20 on the second day, after the website crashed on the first day), I ended up having to go to Daejeon~

The only things you need to bring are a photo id (passport, ARC) and your test registration paper, which you’re able to print out starting like a week before the test day.

My boyfriend and I went down to Daejeon on Saturday afternoon, but I forgot to print my paper beforehand and all the printing places nearby were going to be closed on Sunday...so I ended up printing it out at the love motel we stayed at hahaha (it’s called Inca Hotel, if you’re looking for a place near the KTX station)

On Sunday, TOPIK II people had to come to the test site by 12:20pm. The exact location is listed on your registration paper, so make sure to double check a map before just heading to whatever location. The building we needed to go to was like a 10min walk uphill from the main university gate. It was easy to find, though, because we just followed the groups of foreigners! Everyone had to wait outside the building until just before 12:20pm, and you had to have your id & paper out to be allowed in.

Classroom~

Based on your registration number, you’re assigned a test room. Your registration paper has your number & says what room number, but there was also a giant poster on the front doors that listed which numbers were in each room. Inside the classroom, there was a seating chart that showed us where to sit, and each desk had a little post-it sized paper listing seat number, test number, name, and is you had the even or odd test. (My seat was great and it greatly improved my test experience haha I was in the column farthest from the door, but there was another column of seats between mine and the windows, so we all had two desks and could put our stuff in the other chair instead of on the ground. Also the person in front of and to the right of me didn’t show up.)

Everyone found their seats, went to the bathroom, ate some snacks, and waited for the test proctors to arrive. Once they arrived, they gave some basic instructions. You have to turn off your phone and put it in this binder for the whole test. You cannot use your phone during the break time! Bring a book or something if you don’t want to just sit and stare at the wall for 20min.

They collected all the phones, we put everything away, then they passed out the answer sheets for 듣기 & 쓰기 and the special TOPIK pens. Yes, there is a specific pen for the test. It’s basically a regular computer test marking pen (if you’ve ever done a scantron in Korea) but it has two sides. One is thicker, for marking the multiple choice bubbles. The other end is thin, for writing. The proctor guy went over proper pen usage for a couple minutes. The thin end (it's gray!) is for writing. The thick end is for bubbles. Okay, we get it.

Then we were told what to fill out on the answer sheets. Korean name (whatever you put down when you registered), English name, test number, and if you have the 홀수 or 짝수 test (it alternates by desk to make cheating harder). They really emphasize not writing/bubbling anything you aren’t told to do because there are some things on the paper that you are supposed to leave blank.

During some of this time, the can you hear this? make sure the sound is good. recording came on. It’s nice because it gives you time to get used to what the listening test is going to sound like volume-wise. It was just through the classroom speakers and was good quality. The proctors also repeated that you should mark your answers during the test because there is no time at the end to do that! Once the listening test is finished, you immediately start the writing section. So it’s important that you are marking your answers on the answer sheet as you go.

Everyone was handed their test booklet and told to make sure you had all the pages (like just look at the page numbers and make sure it goes 1-15 or whatever). A couple people got yelled at for pausing way too long on pages, because obviously they were reading questions and that is not allowed because the test hasn’t started yet. One girl also was very obviously trying to read questions through the back of the test booklet....like come on, you’re either prepared for the test or not. Don’t destroy your chances by cheating before it even starts.

Listening~

There’s a signal that the test is officially starting, and the proctors will say to start, and then it’s listening time~! When I did a listening practice test, I used this recording. The real test was slower (for the easier questions, at least) than I expected! The easy questions are said once, the harder ones are said twice. Try to read ahead during the repeat/break between questions, if you can. It’s easier to answer the questions if you already read the answers and know what to listen for.

Writing~

As soon as listening is done, you can switch to your writing answer sheet and start. The proctors come around and take your listening answer sheet, which is actually really annoying because they will take up your precious time checking that you filled it out correctly and stamping it.

The writing section has 2 questions where you read a little paragraph and complete/write two sentences, one short essay where you look at a chart/graph, and one long essay where you write about whatever topic they give you.

I was really worried about writing because I haven’t done advanced writing since I graduated language school last year...but the fill-in-the-blank questions were easier than my practice tests and even though I made some dumb mistakes with my graph explanation (don’t know about using #배...I learned a very specific script and was thrown off haha) and my long essay was too short, at least I answered everything and some points are better than no points! (Our long essay topic was about the good & bad points of 조기 교육, and our personal opinion.)

When writing ends, you have to put your pen down and take your hands off the desk. If you keep writing, that’s considered cheating and you’ll get a zero. The proctors will come around and take the test booklets and answer sheets, then there is break time.

At whatever time they said, everyone is back in the classroom and it’s preparation round 2. They pass out reading answer sheets, we filled them out properly. The proctors once again emphasized to only fill out the parts they told us to. We got test booklets, checked the pages, and waited to start.

Reading~

Reading has a bunch of different types of questions, so it’s definitely a good idea to do some practice tests to get used to the timing and format. I am especially bad at the news headline questions, so I don’t give myself much time for those, just kinda guess and move on. Near the end I started skimming more, partly because it’s so boring (seriously, the topics are all over the place and there are a whole bunch of words I don’t know) and I wanted to make sure I attempted every question. The proctor said there was 10min left, I finished answering everything, then used my remaining time to really double check the last few questions.

When reading is over, they collect the tests, give everyone back their phones, and you’re dismissed!

Results come out next month and I’m hoping I at least got a 4...it’d be nice to get a 5, but my writing wasn’t that good and I did a lot of educated guessing during the reading section. I’ll have to take it again either next year or the year after (will be needing those visa points!), so I have time to study vocab and writing and bring up my score a lot~

It was a good experience taking it, and now I’m way less nervous about the process! And I’d be happy to answer any questions about it :)

#studyblr #langblr #korean #topik #korea

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chimchimjiminheadcanons · 6 years

Text

Survive/Part 3

Word count: 4,784

Warnings: Zombies (though I guess that’s obvious), cursing, gory details, death (mentioned) and violence.

(Once again as I always say, please let me know if there is anything else I should put a warning up there for and I’ll edit it in :))

(M) (2) (4)

3:20pm You: I’m just so confused.

"Jagiya," a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind, causing you to spin around to face your captor, "What are you making lovely?" Jae's eyes roamed all over your face. They met your eyes, glanced at your lips, followed the curves of your cheeks and jawline, skimmed over your nose, followed the flow of your hair and returned back to your eyes again. You laughed and he watched as your lips stretched and your teeth showed in the beautiful way that only you can do, that gorgeous smile that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. He hummed contently and dove down to kiss you. You laughed into his lips, still smiling as his mouth mingled with yours. "Something," you hummed when Jae's lips left yours, "I'm keeping it a mystery until it's done, I promise you'll like it." "Of course I will, everything you cook is delicious." You rolled your eyes and continued chopping the onions you were previously working on. Jae was still clinging to your hips like a monkey to a tree branch. He sung softly in your ear as you cooked. "You know, you look beautiful today." "Only today?" You pouted, it was Jae's turn to laugh now. "Not only today, every day." "You said I look beautiful today though." Jae sighed heavily and spun you around. You placed the knife that was in your hands on the counter behind you, carefully so that it doesn't drop to the ground or cut you at all. He looked into your eyes and stood there for a moment with you in his arms, just taking in your presence and breathing in your scent before he lifted you off of the ground and began to carry you away from the kitchen. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck instinctively to avoid falling down. "Jae stop the food will burn if I leave it!" "Let it burn then," he smirked. Before long he had you pinned underneath him on the sofa. "You know I love you, right (Y/N)?" "I know you do Jae," you smiled, "you remind me every day." "Good, I'll keep reminding you every single day for the rest of our lives," Jae sighed. "I promise to stay with you until I die." "You weren't supposed to stick to that promise." Today was day three. Three days since Jae had died and three days since you had to evacuate and move in with the members of BTS. It was strange, you really did think you were dreaming. It seems like something straight out of a fanfiction-though a horrible and twisted one-, meeting a famous boy group and suddenly moving into their house. It was weird, it left you confused to add to how upset you are. You still felt horrible and the sight of Jae's dead body was still permanently burned into your brain. Nightmares and flashbacks were the newest editions to your grieving. Nothing has come easy in days. Outside is completely off limits and the only time anyone is allowed to go out is when you all leave as a group in a van that Namjoon hijacked from one of his friend's work. You're all lucky for connections at this point. Hoseok knows a pharmacist (one of his exes who happens to be on good terms with him and spent a day here in the safe house). She gave him a key to the cabinets and taught him how to shut off the alarm so it wouldn't attract any attention while you were there. Not to mention, she gave you a first aid course. Seokjin was good friends with a market owner who spent the afternoon here yesterday dropping off long life food and gave you all a copy of the key in case of an emergency. There was also a building sight down town that was attacked on the very first day. Everyone there is infected and it's incredibly dangerous to go there, but if you do you can get the materials you need to make everything so much safer. Right now it's all makeshift and though everything seems okay now, it's the calm before the storm and the suspense and fear has you biting your nails Everything everywhere was shutting down. Grocery stores were only doing online delivery (sometimes the guy who's supposed to bring food to you doesn't show up and the sad realization that he was likely killed in the streets on the way here makes all of you tense) and streets in the busier parts of Seoul had been completely evacuated and abandoned, the death count was going up faster and faster with each passing day and that left you stuck in your current home, refusing to leave in fear of not coming back. Taehyung joked about boarding the windows, but as time went on, Namjoon decided it really should actually be done. Memories from the night Jae died still kept flooding your memory. You shouldn't be alone, Jimin offered for you to come and sit with him while he reads if it's too late for you to find comfort in the other members, but instead you are here. Crying and sitting on the seat installed underneath your window in what you now called your room. Grieving just comes and goes in waves, you were fine a few moments ago and now you're not. Jimin's internal spidey sense seemed to be at work as there was a quiet knock on your door that was almost so soft you didn't even hear it. You quickly wiped your face on the blanket you had brought from your old apartment and dropped it on the floor as you slid to open the door. "I came to see if you had fallen asleep yet," Jimin smiled at you, his circular reading glasses sitting on the very bridge of his nose, the book he was currently reading slid underneath his arm and held snug at his side as he peered through the gap in your door and then analysed your face. He took one look at your still tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes before he hummed. "Can I come in?" You nodded, slipping aside as he walked through the door and closed it behind him. His eyes scanned your room before he walked over to where your photo frames were on your desk. Some good things have come out of the past few days, especially the picture of you, Hoseok, Jin, Taehyung and Jimin cooking together. You knew they were only cooking with you to provide a distraction but at least it worked and succeeded at bringing a smile to your face. Speaking of smiles, Jimin smiled fondly at this, staring at the noodles he had put on his lips. A sort of fake moustache. In the photo, Hoseok was doing the same and you had turned to laugh at them both while Jin actually tried to focus on cooking and Taehyung was eating the noodles before they were actually done. You shook your head, a small smirk forming while you stared at your sock covered feet. "This is a good photo y'know?" Jimin turned, "I think I should get a copy of it for my room. Maybe I'll make a bookmark out of it." "That'd be nice." Jimin nodded. "So, do you want to work on getting to sleep?" He bounced onto your bed and you couldn't help but giggle as he continued to rise into the air and fall back down on the bed again. His hair flailed around as he did so, yet somehow he still managed to look flawless, reading glasses staying exactly where they were and book still slid under his arm. This was such a childish thing, yet you found yourself tempted to join him. If Hoseok was here, both of you would've been scolded. "I can read to you if you want," Jimin said between bounces. "Sure, I'd love that." Jimin stopped bouncing and slid over, plonking down properly on one side of the bed so you could get under the covers and lie beside him. "This book is written in Japanese, so it probably won't make much sense to you." "How do you know that I don't know Japanese?" You quirked an eyebrow. "Do you?" "Well I mean--" "Mhmm." You reached out and playfully slapped Jimin's arm. He stopped for a moment after he opened the book, fingers brushing against the soft paper and humming again, deciding on weather to speak up or not. Eventually when he did decide, he turned to find you already looking up at him, noticing something was wrong by the sudden pause. "Do you need to talk?” Another memory slipped through your mind, the feeling of Jae's cold cheek made you wince. Talking about it would bring you back to that night and you never ever want to think about it again. The mere thought makes you wrap your arms around your legs, bringing your knees up close to your chest. "No, nope. Don't think that's a good idea right now." "Okay," Jimin sighed, "Just know that everyone is here for you, alright?" "Okay." He stared for one last moment. His opposite hand that wasn't holding the book open stretched out towards you, fingers caressing your soft cheek. Your eyes snapped up from where they had fixated on the page, glancing at the foreign Japanese characters as you stared right into his eyes. His own eyes followed the movement of his hand before they met yours and a sad smile formed on his beautiful lips. You were so tempted to kiss him right then. It only added to the confusion you were already feeling. Jimin is attractive. There's no denying that, but do you like him? It's hard for you to tell because each day you find yourself thinking about the way Taehyung treated you when you first met. Not the bad parts but the way his gaze lingered when you called him handsome, the warmth of his embrace, the worried look in his eyes, the picture you sent to Hyeona on your phone where he pulled a silly pose with you and gave you bunny ears and how much he cared about you from the very first moment. Enough to break down when he saw you upset. Yet you find yourself still yearning to see the sparkle in Jae's eyes, still grieving loosing him, still missing his touch and knowing that he can't be replaced. Even just the way Jin laughed when you first spoke to him despite what you were saying not even being that funny, the way he lent in, the confidence he has and damn he's beautiful, the way Hoseok comforted you, tried to shield you from everything, the way he smiles at you and how when it's actually a normal hour in the day, he's always the one who let's you hang out and play video games with him or come watch him practice dancing and even pick a movie for you guys to watch. Everyone in this house is confusing you, and you feel horrible because you shouldn't be over Jae's death yet, it's too soon to move on. And you're not over it all. Sometimes you feel like you are, sometimes things feel like they're finally going back to normal even though normal is different now, but then small things that remind you of him remind you of how he's never coming back and the sad existence of the hole he left in your heart. When you are over him you won't wear his shirts after you shower anymore, you won't snuggle with his blanket every time you're cold, you won't think you saw him walking in the street, you won't compare every man who gets close to you or tries to with him, you will move on and his name alone wont send a pang of pain straight into your heart. You can't even know for sure that anyone here has feelings for you and now just isn't the right time to try anything, especially since it's the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Jimin knows this, yet he finds himself struggling to resist the urge to soothe your soft skin with the palms of his hands. He finds himself staring when you ask him to read to you and when you finally fall asleep. He finds himself wishing he could reach out and pull his fingers through your hair, brush it out with his hands as you lay there with it sprawled around you like a mermaid under water. He does this to comfort you and himself and you appreciate it, you just hope it doesn't mean anything more than comfort. "I'm confused," you blurt, Jimin only smiles and withdraws his hand. "What do you mean by that?" "I'm just... Confused about stuff. I shouldn't be over Jae yet should I?" Jimin thought for a moment. His eyes wandered off of your face, away from your eyes and down to the book in his lap again. "Everyone gets over things at different times," he looked back over at you, "there is never a too soon or a too late, there are no rules when it comes to handling the death of someone you love." You don't usually talk about this stuff with Jimin, in fact you find the most comfort in Yoongi when it comes to needing to talk about things. He seems really emotionless and cold on the outside, but on the inside he cares and he's the best listener you know. He never speaks of what the two of you spoke about which at times stirs up teasing from the other members, but really you appreciate it. He smiles softly at you every time you pass him in the house and he always puts down whatever he is doing to listen when you need it. It's not that you don't trust Jimin enough to talk to him about everything, you just don't want him to pity you. That's the one thing you don't want. Pity. Yoongi doesn't pity you, nothing changes after you talk to him except him understanding you better and you feeling better. What happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors, he's completely different when the two of you are alone. Still, you appreciate the wise words and the soft smile Jimin keeps giving you. He clears his throat now. "Alright, let's get you to sleep."

The next morning came slowly and when you finally woke, it was to the sound of Jin yelling that lunch was ready down the hall. Your eyes burst open, you’d slept in so much that you’d missed breakfast. You rolled on to your side, the blankets that had moulded to your body moved along with you and unfortunately that meant they fell to the ground when you reached out to grab your phone. When you did so, you noticed a bowl of cereal sitting on the side table, fresh slices of different kinds of fruit sitting on a plate next to it and a glass of juice all on one tray. Someone must have decided to make you breakfast, and you didn’t wake up in time to eat it. Before you could unplug your phone and check to see if anything had happened while you were asleep, a wild Jungkook burst through the door. “Oh sorry,” he sighed, “lunch is ready. Since you’re not already there, Jin sent me to get you up but it looks like you’re already awake.” “Only just,” you laughed as you dropped your phone down on to the bed beside you and pushed your body up. You stood for a few minutes at your closet which had mirrors for doors thankfully, and fiddled with your hair until it looked neat enough and presentable enough for you to go out into the kitchen. Jungkook laughed, it was obvious he’d been playing overwatch all day and only left his room for lunch just judging by how messy his hair was, buried under the hood of his gray hoodie. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up earlier? Had I of known someone made me this nice breakfast in bed I would’ve got up hours ago. Speaking of which, do you know who made me breakfast?” “Nope, you can ask though,” Jungkook’s voice changed pitch at the end, becoming much higher as he tried to pry you out of your bedroom. “We can’t eat until you get there, Jin’s making us wait. We’ve got a lot to do today as well and you missed half of it.” “I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a minute.” Jungkook nodded, pushing himself off of your doorframe and walking back down the hallway. True to your word, you were there in a minute after slipping into the soft bear socks that you had brought from your old apartment. You tried not to overthink too much. Jin had made bimbimbap (mixed rice) for lunch and you couldn’t help but smile, mouth watering just from the smell. You couldn’t tell if it was because you skipped a meal or because Jin’s cooking always smells and tastes good at this point. Everyone at the table was staring at you as you sunk into your chair and finally Jin nodded, as soon as he did everyone dug right in and many ‘thank you’s’ and ‘this is delicious’s’ were exchanged. “Did you sleep well?” Jin asked from the head of the table, chopsticks held loosely in his hand. “Yeah, I don’t know why you guys let me sleep in so late though, Jungkook said we had a lot to get through today and I missed most of it.” “Well, I figured you were probably tired from yesterday,” Jin frowned, “not just physically but emotionally.” “That’s why I made you breakfast, but I didn’t want to wake you to eat it so I waited,” Hoseok interrupted from the opposite end of the table. “I’m guessing you didn’t wake up in time though.” “I was wondering who made that for me! I’m sorry Hoseok, you should’ve woken me up.” The room filled with chatter after that as everyone finished up their food. It was Taehyung and Jimin’s turns to wash up today. It made you laugh to see how well everything here always seems to work out, without order these boys would be a mess yet they find a way to all stay organised and to all stay happy. For a while, you almost forgot where you were and what was happening outside. That was until the first task of the day - at least for you -, actually boarding the windows. “Alright,” Namjoon cleared his throat. “I’ll take the kitchen and main bathroom windows. (Y/N) and Jungkook take (Y/N)’s bedroom and the study windows together, Taehyung and Hoseok do your own rooms and the laundry, Jin and Yoongi do the living room and any other rooms that aren’t done by the end. There’s extra wood here in this wheelbarrow if you need it, make sure that everything is done as well as possible so that anything that tries to get in, can’t. Any questions?” After there appeared to be none, everyone scattered and went in the direction of the windows they needed to board. Jungkook laughed as you stacked wood up underneath your arms and struggled to keep it up while he carried the nails and two hammers. “You’re evil,” you thinned your eyes at him. “You’re the one who said you can defend yourself, if you can’t carry wood, how well will you be able to defend yourself.” “There’s a difference between swinging a weapon at some zombies and lifting heavy wood,” you sighed, dropping the stack of wood down on the ground outside of Jungkook’s bedroom. You tugged the hammer from Jungkook’s hands and watched as he snickered and pulled the nails open. “Wood is heavy, I don’t have to lift the living corpses, I just have to kill them.” “Weapons are heavy.” “Well-.” “Weapons are really heavy.” Jungkook placed a plank over part of the window and lifted his hand that was holding the hammer, pressing a nail into the wood and proceeding to hit the hammer against the metal and watching carefully as it went through the wood and into the window’s frame firmly and securely. The sound of the hammer hitting metal joined the sound of hammers hitting metal all around the house. You scoffed, lifting your own plank of wood and following his actions. Soon enough, your job was almost done. Until you felt a tap on your shoulder and spun around to find out who disturbed you, expecting the familiar face of Yoongi or Jimin, maybe even Hoseok. You doubted Jin or Namjoon would get distracted from work and Taehyung seems to have been as distraught as you lately, he’s not exactly in a shoulder tapping mood. Unfortunately, you weren’t met with the gummy smile of Min Yoongi, the pouty smile of Jimin, the bright smile of Hoseok, the absent smile of Taehyung or even the dimpled smile of Namjoon, the handsome smile of Jin, not even the youthful smile of the maknae, you were greeted by a bloodied face. The face looked as if someone had taken the back of a gun and beat it against the strangers skin until what was their face was nothing but a pulp. There were missing teeth, holes for eyes, deep pits in their skin. Yet they still stood there in front of you, groaning, swaying and reaching out for your shoulder. You had a feeling that the drool dripping from what was their mouth was the image of you becoming their late lunch. You tried not to alarm the others as your jaw dropped open and you backed away from the zombie. “Uh, Jungkook?” When Jungkook spun around he let out a shriek that you honestly thought came out of your mouth for a while. It was so high pitched and loud you thought it must’ve come from you without you noticing, but when Jungkook covered his mouth with his hand, you realised that he had indeed been the one doing the shrieking. You would've laughed, but you're a little caught up right now. Jungkook had attracted the attention of the zombie now as it slowly turned towards him and set it’s eyes on his torso. He jumped back, hammer still in hand and thought of how he could handle the situation. “Alright, I think we’re going to have to kill it with our hammers.” “Hammers?” You groaned. “You’re seriously expecting me to hit this thing with a hammer and get that disgusting blood all over me and not to mention that sight will be burned into my brain until-.” “We don’t have time to talk about it,” Jungkook screwed his eyes closed before lifting the hammer he was holding above his head and striking downwards, hitting the zombie right on the head and cracking part of it’s skull. It didn’t even flinch, regaining composure and reaching out again to scratch at Jungkook’s sides. You winced, wiping blood that had splattered all over your face with your sleeve and backing away as Jungkook yelled for help. Luckily before it could make it, Namjoon slid around the side of the house with one of the guns he had somehow managed to get his hands on cocked and ready to go. “Stand back,” he whistled to grab the attention of the hungry zombie and watched as it’s eyes (or lack there of) snapped over to him. Jungkook stepped over to where you were, pushing you behind him. “Hey, I can defend myself!” He raised an eyebrow, “You’re seriously expecting me to believe that?” "Yes. I believe I made a very sound point earlier when we talked about how I can defend myself!" "A very sound argument? You can't even lift wood! Do you really think I'm going to let you of all people get in front of one of those awful things and fight it off when you threw a fit after I told you to hit it with your hammer? Defend yourself my ass!" "Hey just because I don't like the idea of smashing something's brains in doesn't mean I can't defend myself." "What the fuck else would you have done? Karate kicked it and let it-" The sound of a gunshot interrupted your conversation as a bullet struck the groaning monster in the stomach. It didn’t seem to affect it until it dropped to the ground and just like Taehyung had done to the first - the road blockage. Namjoon lifted his foot and screwed his eyes closed, Jungkook pushing you further behind him as he did the same and finally Namjoon’s foot collided with the awful creature’s skull with a loud and chilling crack that made bile rise to your throat. You were still angry with Jungkook. You could defend yourself, you just didn't want to get infected or grabbed by that thing to prove your point. After that incident, thankfully everyone was done boarding the windows and slid back inside to shower the sweat off. Hoseok and Taehyung had the job of reinforcing the doors while you sat at your window seat, which was no longer the go to place to see a nice view outside. You used to be able to see the fields around you (seeing as this place was pretty far away, it was the boy’s emergency house and is located in the country for a reason), the stars when they were out at night and the rabbits that used to try and steal the crops bouncing and bounding between blades of grass. But now it was nothing, just the back of wooden boards. You couldn’t help but feel trapped. With a heavy sigh, you lifted your phone to see what’s been going on in the outside world. Surprisingly (but not really considering that the whole world seems to revolve around technology) the internet is still up and power hasn’t shut off yet. People who work for both companies have been risking their lives to keep both things on in case someone needs to call for an ambulance or make sure their family is okay. It seemed that no one outside of here was too worried for you. There were no texts from your parents, there was only a text from Hyeona.

3:12pm

Hyeonnie: Hey, just dropping in to make sure you’re okay. You haven’t got bitten out there yet in Seoul have you? I evacuated to Busan but I’m not sure how much good that’ll do for me. God, it just had to be Korea of all places didn’t it? It’ll spread so fast, it’s such a small place.

3:12pm

Hyeonnie: I’m sorry for rambling there, but really. How’re things with the handsome seven huh? Any new crushes, any drama? I’m just dying to hear anything that isn’t about death for once. I’m sick of everyone always talking about how their days are limited, talking about death counts and other drastic stuff like that. Please just tell me something normal so I can pretend this isn’t happening even just for five seconds.

3:15pm

You: I’m doing fine. I haven’t been bitten or scratched or anything but there’s been a couple of scares. I won’t get into details though to spare you the image.

3:15pm

You: And as for crushes, I’m really not sure if I’m honest. I’m confused about everything and everyone here is so nice to me and argh.

3:17pm

You: I don’t know what to do. I had a boyfriend before now and he was one of the first people who died and it’s torture thinking about how I won’t get to see the sparkle in his eyes or hear him say that he loves me ever again and I feel awful for even ever thinking about anyone else being in my life yet...

3:18pm

You: Yet... I find myself thinking about how Seokjin’s jokes never fail to make me laugh. I keep thinking about his amazing cooking and how handsome he is. I keep thinking about how well Hoseok can dance and how he’s always there for me when I need a distraction. I keep thinking about how much Taehyung cared for me from the first day and how he was there for me from the very moment I found out Jae died. I keep thinking about how Jimin is always there to read me to sleep. How Jungkook is always teasing me to cheer me up. I even find myself thinking about Namjoon’s concerned glances and dimples!

3:20pm

You: I’m just so confused.

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