#i think my favorites are the top row left and middle ones

[proxima-writes]

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 6

Hey, all! This story is finally picking up and we meet Eddie for the first time.

This is an extra long chapter because I wanted to have the gala all in one chapter instead of splitting it up.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Steve woke up to his best friend having planned the perfect date with Vickie. Today was already looking up.

“I told you she would say yes,” he told Robin smugly as he poured himself some orange juice.

Robin waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Mr Smarty Pants over there.”

Steve wiggled his ass at her and then sat down on the sofa next to her.

“So what’s on my schedule for next week?’

Robin pulled up his schedule again and hummed. “Looks like all you have is next Saturday; a charity gala for the arts on the arm of Senator Derek Lombard.”

“He’s always nice,” Steve said. “A little hard of hearing most of the time, but always just wants someone pretty to hang off his every word.”

“So an easy night for you then,” Robin said.

He hummed his agreement. “So what’s all that the event is about? Can I use it to network? Or will it be all politicians with sticks up their asses?”

Robin pulled up the event on her tablet. “Looks like it’s a fundraiser for putting music in poor neighborhoods as a way to combat gang joining and shit like that.”

Steve sighed. “Sounds like my worst nightmare. Classical music sounds like noise to me most of the time. It always puts me to sleep.”

“Then you’ll like this,” she said, scrolling through the list of guests. “The charity is the pet project of Corroded Coffin frontman, Eddie Munson. Apparently he was ‘trailer trash’, his words, and got out of the slums through the power of metal and rock music.”

Steve straightened up. “Shit. Is that that band that Dustin loves?”

Robin tapped something on her tablet and scrolled a bit. “Yep!” she chirped happily. “He is going to be so jealous when he hears you might get to meet him.”

He ran his tongue over his top row of teeth thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay. This sounding more interesting.” He tapped his lips. “If it’s his charity then it will likely have younger alphas there that I can network and get on my client list.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “Especially rockstars. They tend to just hop in bed with any willing omega or beta if an omega can’t be found to service their ruts.”

Steve licked his lips. “Bring over a small stack of business cards to take with me. Also does Senator Lombard have a style of clothes he wants me to wear?”

Robin skipped back to his schedule and pulled up the appointment. “Uh... it looks like he doesn’t have a preference just something ‘elegant’.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Steve asked with a glimmer in his eye.

“If I am you might need to keep some heart medication on standby,” she said with glee.

“Oh good,” he grinned. “We are thinking of the same thing, then.”

****

Steve didn’t often wear dresses because he hated playing into the stereotype of male omegas being the women of the secondary genders. But this was his favorite outfit bar none.

It was a backless gold dress with a low cut front in a drape that showed off his bare chest. He kept himself as shaven as he was in high school on the swim team. Something that Tommy mocked him mercilessly for. But it made getting in and out of clothes easier, so Tommy could suck it.

The dress went all the way to his ankles and was split up the middle of each leg to show off his toned thighs. He wore jeweled open-toed kitten heels with a Grecian style strap down the middle. He wore a bangle on his left wrist and a charm bracelet on his right. The necklace and earrings matched, a wide gold setting with a single diamond in the center. And then to crown the whole thing off, he had diamonds glued to the strands of his hair so when he moved the light would catch the diamond and shimmer just so.

Senator Lombard was speechless when Steve walked down to the lobby of the hotel he was picked up from. Again for his safety that no one knew where he lived.

In his hand was matching gold clutch and over his shoulders in liquid waves a shimmering gold shawl.

“I am the luckiest man tonight,” Senator Lombard whispered as he took Steve’s open hand to guide him the rest of the way down the stairs.

“You flatter me, Senator,” Steve replied demurely looking up at the alpha through his eyelashes.

“And you honor me with your presence.”

Steve blushed and allowed himself to be led out to the waiting limo.

****

Senator Lombard was the talk and envy of a lot of people at the gala. Women hated the way Steve looked better in his dress then they did in theirs. The men were seething jealousy that Steve wasn’t on their arm.

The senator was a distinguished older gentleman of the old style of politics. Calm and collected in public, a conniving, calculated negotiator behind closed doors.

And he showed that strength here. Everyone was tripping over themselves to introduce themselves to him just for the pleasure of being in Steve’s company.

They had to know how Senator Lombard could afford such beauty and grace, so much so that Steve had run out of business cards before the appetizer was even brought out.

The only ones that stayed on the outskirts of Senator Lombard’s aura of influence was the members of Corroded Coffin.

They were dressed like the rockers they were. Lots of black clothes, jewelry, and eyeliner. Their tattoos and piercing further pushed them outside of the rest of the people at the gala.

People who despite being invited by the band were giving them a wide berth. Which was ridiculous in Steve’s opinion. One thing you must never be: is rude to the host.

Steve broke off from the senator and turned to make his way toward his hosts when there was gentle tap on his shoulder.

He turned around to see the prettiest of the band standing in front of him. He had long dark curls, deep soulful brown eyes, and dimples for days. Steve was smitten.

“You dropped this,” the man said, holding out his hand.

Steve opened his hand and a diamond dropped into it. He tucked his clutch under his arm and touched his hair. Sure enough one of his diamonds was missing.

“Thank you!” Steve cooed. “I don’t want to lose that!”

The man smiled and the dimples became more pronounced and Steve was close to swooning.

“I’m Eddie,” he said. “Eddie Munson. And who might you be, darlin’?”

Steve blushed. “Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s eyebrows twitched upward. “A Starcourt escort in my house. I’m honored.”

Steve looked around the large foyer. “This is your place? It’s beautiful.”

Eddie smiled deeper. “Thank you. Now where were you off to just now?”

Steve giggled. “On my way to see you, actually. I’m not a fan of people being rude to the hosts. Regardless of who the hosts are.”

“Even if you disagree with their beliefs?” Eddie asked, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“I don’t go to those,” Steve replied with a wink.

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “I wasn’t aware you had that much control over your clientele.”

“Maybe not to start with,” he said with a shrug. “But as one of my friends pointed out recently, when you’re one of the top ten paid escorts you have a lot more leeway.”

Eddie blinked those long eyelashes and Steve was captivated. “That’s fair. And you deemed my little shindig as worthy? I’m doubly honored then.”

“Well...” Steve murmured tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, “more like my handler, Robin. But she knows what I like.”

“And you like heavy metal?” Eddie asked, amused.

“More like good causes and deserving people.”

A waiter passed by and Eddie grabbed two champagne glasses from the man’s tray. He held one out to Steve.

“Oh,” he murmured. His hands were occupied. He hurried to put the diamond into his clutch and tucked the clutch back under his arm. He then took the drink. “Thank you.”

“That dress suits you,” Eddie said, licking his lips slowly.

Steve ducked his head a blushed. “Thank you. It’s my favorite dress.”

Eddie smirked. “I didn’t know you were allowed to wear the same outfit more than once.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Not normally, no. But the key is to change up the accessories and chose a different setting. The last time I wore this dress was for dinner with a client. Some quiet upscale restaurant where privacy is key.”

Eddie looked up and down Steve’s body. “You certainly fill it well.”

Steve smiled. “It’s more fun to get out of.”

Eddie nearly choked as he was taking a drink of champagne when Steve said that. Steve rubbed his back soothingly as if he wasn’t the one that caused the distress in the first place.

Steve tapped the back of his neck. “There’s a little clasp right here. Just unhook and dress just slides right off.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and Steve could tell he was imagining it.

“Escorts are great for all sorts of things. Dinner with family you want to impress. Casual conversations and movies nights for the rich and the lonely. Arm candy for charity events like this one. Not all my clients are in it for the sex.” Steve patted Eddie’s arm and then down the rest of his champagne. He put his glass on the tray of a passing waiter and went back to Senator Lombard with a cheerful wave over his shoulder.

****

Jeff came up and clamped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was the most embarrassing display I’ve ever seen. If this was a Looney Tune, your tongue would be dragging on the floor, man.”

Eddie pushed his friend playfully. “Shut it, Jeffey.”

“No, seriously, man,” Jeff said. “I haven’t seen you get that tongue tied with someone you were interested in since we got our first record deal.”

Eddie sighed. “I really should have known better than to come to a gun fight with a knife.”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, man. Escorts are trained socializers. You didn’t have a chance.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anymore beautiful then him in my life,” Eddie murmured. “And I’ve dated rock goddesses, super models, and A-list actors and actresses.”

Jeff hummed. “He’s certainly something, that’s for sure.”

“God,” Eddie huffed. “He even gave an in with hiring his services if I wanted and all I could do was stare at him slack jawed and stupid.”

Jeff pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it. “Well according to Starcourt’s website they offer all sorts of services. Gang bangs, threesomes, roleplays, rut servicing. You could throw a dart at a dartboard and each section would be a different service they offer.”

Eddie bit his lip. “Fuck, there is no way they’d let him service my ruts. I’m a blocker buster.”

Jeff winced. “Yeeeaaah. The last time you spent your rut with someone, they went into heat almost immediately. A fun time to be had, sure. But that guy could have gotten pregnant and you would have been on the hook for life.”

Eddie grimaced. “It wasn’t that fun if I’m honest.”

“They would absolutely whisk him away the second he even scented wrong.”

He nodded. “Looks like all I can do is dream and maybe beg to see if they’ll let me take him out to dinner.”

Jeff just shook his head. His friend was hopeless.

****

To say Steve felt smug would be an understatement. Not only did his little interaction with Eddie Munson fluster the alpha, but it spurred on everyone else to stop treating their hosts like they had the plague.

Suddenly there was a sea between him and Eddie and for now that was fine. It had been a long time since an alpha’s scent overwhelmed his senses.

Eddie’s scent was warm like cardamon and cinnamon. Like a hot drink on a cold winter’s day. Steve felt engulfed by it. It took every ounce of will power and training not drop to his knees right then and there. His actual client be damned.

But he managed to remain on his feet and walk away without Eddie knowing how close Steve had come to breaking his composure.

Senator Lombard kept a hand on Steve’s waist after that. Steve was sure he could smell the way Steve’s scent when he came back was strong and wild.

The senator didn’t know who had caused Steve’s scent to react that way, but he wasn’t going to take any chances that Steve might be swept off his feet.

Steve spent a good portion of the rest of the night, rubbing his nose along Senator Lombard’s scent gland to calm him down. Every time Steve would laugh at another alpha’s joke or talk a little too cheerfully to another omega, the senator’s scent would turn sour and bitter. And Steve would have to start the soothing process all over again.

It was starting to get annoying and Steve was seriously thinking of putting the alpha on his black list for it. The fact that Steve came back should have been all the assurance the alpha needed that whoever had got Steve hot under the collar that they weren’t enough to keep his interest. But no. Steve was beginning to suspect that he was just a bitter old man.

Steve was given a moment’s reprieve when the senator was pulled aside by another senator that wanted to talk about co-sponsoring a bill on the Hill.

“God,” the omega woman Steve was talking to said. “I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. The heavy duty scent blockers, the spending your heats alone, the birth control. God the birth control alone must cost a fortune.”

Steve gave an awkward laugh. “Um, no. Omegas at Starcourt are infertile. They have to be, not just for the protection of the omega but for the alpha clients, too. Can’t have an escort blackmailing important alphas that their pup might be theirs.”

The woman pouted. “That’s so sad. Have you thought about adopting?”

Steve’s smile stayed on his face, but inside he died just a little. “I’d have to find an alpha willing to bond me first.” He said it teasingly, but he knew it was hopeless.

“A pretty thing like you?” the woman cooed. “The right alpha willing be baying for the chance to sweep you off your feet. Just give it a couple of years. You’re still in your prime. Enjoy it!”

Steve’s smile slid into something more real. He was grateful that she didn’t pity him and told him he still had time. Because she was right it. He did have time. There was no need to rush off and get bonded. He had the glittering lights, the fancy clothes, and rich food to enjoy while he was still young.

Too soon the senator had returned and pulled him away from the omega. Steve waved at her and smiled. He would later learn that she was Representative Jim Hopper’s second omega, Joyce Byers. Jonathan’s mom.

That made the encounter all the more wholesome.

****

As Steve was pulled away he didn’t notice Eddie behind him frowning.

“Hey, Gareth,” Eddie said. “You got to talk with the senator’s date, right?”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Yes, I got to talk to your crush.”

Eddie flapped his hands at him. “Shush. But how would you describe his scent?”

Gareth frowned. “I don’t know. Spicy I guess. Like Mexican hot chocolate. Why?”

“You brought an escort to the Grammy’s last year,” Eddie continued, never taking his eyes off Steve. “How would you have described her scent?”

Gareth’s frown deepened between his brows as he fought to remember. “Fruity, I guess. Sweet. Almost too sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gareth pressed.

Eddie just pressed his lips together.

“You know,” Gareth said into the resulting silence. “I would say his scent complements yours.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He could only agree.

Something didn’t feel right and he was determined to find out what it was about Steve Harrington that got under his skin the way it did.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @y4r3luv @slowandsteddie @r0binscript

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

[cryptidclaw]

I dont think Ive ever mentioned this but I have a HUGE obsession with Calico Critters/Sylvanian Families and I have no clue how I have not drawn warrior cats in this style until now...

any waysss here's my designs for the FireSandLong fam as a Calico Critters family set hehehe, Im so happy with this this is so cute, this is one of my most favorite things that I have drawn. I want to draw even more WC critters fams now!!

Bonus! just FireSand fam for canon enjoyers!

Image desc. v

[Image 1 ID: a digital drawing of Sandstorm, Firestar, Longtail, Squirrelpaw and Leafpaw drawn in the style of the Calico Critters toy line. Sandstorm is standing at the top left, she is a sandy colored spikey furred tabby with black fur covering the right half of her face and her left arm, she is wearing a light green dress with a light yellow color and trim. Firestar id standing in the top middle with his arm raised in a wave, he is a bright orange tabby tom with long fur, and he is wearing a light yellow shirt and dark blue overalls with a green pocket and buttons. Longtail is standing at the top right, he is a short furred light brown tabby with black stripes, and he is wearing a light blue shirt with light yellow buttons and green pants. Squirrelpaw is standing at the bottom left, she is a long furred dark ginger tabby with black ears and freckles, she is wearing a light blue shirt with a dark blue dress overtop. Leafpaw is standing at the bottom right with her arm raised in a wave, she is a short furred calico cat with a red and brown tabby patch on the top of her head and some orange tabby spots on her face, she is wearing a yellow dress with a light green collar and trim. above the cats is the calico critters logo and below them is the family set circular emblem with "Fire Cat Family" written on it. the background is a very blurry scene with a blue sky and green grass./End ID]

[Image 2 ID: An Illustration similar to the last image, but this time the characters are lined up in a row overlapping each other. Squirrelpaw is standing in front of and between Sand and Fire, and Leafpaw is standing in front of and between Fire and Longtail./End ID]

[Image 3 ID: an illustration similar to the first image but Longtail is not in the picture/ End ID]

[Image 4 ID: an illustration similar to the second image but Longtail is not in the picture/ End ID]

#warrior cats #warrior cats design #sylvanian families #calico critters #Sandstorm #Firestar #Longtail #Leafpool #Squirrelflight #Leafpaw #Squirrelpaw #warriors

[futuristicsaladparadise]

My top 10 girlies. If I had to get rid of all but these (and I might), these are the ones I couldn't bear to part with.

Shamsa Kabil Nasr Mansour (back left), aka This Poor Girl, broke my heart a little when I first saw the treatment she had received from previous owners. I just want to hug her and tell her everything will be all right, even though she may have to go to the hospital in the future. Her eyes are still messed up and will never sit right, so she wears glasses. She was so damaged, I decided her backstory would include surviving a military attack on her home. She currently lives with her aunt, uncle, and big sister in the US, where she is learning to read and speak English.

Ivy Ling (front left) is practically perfect, and fits in nearly every modern decade. I love her unique eyes.

I wanted a Ruthie (Ruth Ann Smithens, back row) doll for some time, but not AG's Ruthie, because she didn't look like the books. Everything magically fell together (seriously, I wasn't even looking for a face and ran across the head on eBay, and they eyes and wig were the first things to fall out when I opened their respective containers) and Ruthie was born. I think she looks a bit like Liesel Matthews from the 1990s version of A Little Princess, too.

LaRae Bliss Turner (front) was an accidental find. I had been lowkey looking for an Addy mold doll for about a year, and knew I wanted different eyebrows. I kept coming back to the listing, even saving a screenshot and finally decided that she was the right doll for me. I'm still working on her backstory.

Blaire Wilson (middle back): I thought I didn't like Blaire. Blaire was blah. She had hobbies I wasn't interested in, I don't like her name, and the previous dolls I had seen had those weird downcast eyes. Then I was looking for a secondhand version of Rebecca's Hanukkah outfit and found a listing of this girl dressed in the full outfit. The price wasn't bad, and I thought I could always donate the doll if I didn't like her. Well, she's grown on me and now I can't make myself give her up.

Annika Jessalyn Nazarbayev (middle front): Annika was one of my very first dolls, and is the doll I've had the longest. Since she was originally Jess, I tied her story into that. She's Jess's niece (her mom, Heather, is Jess's older sister), and her middle name is a nod to Annika's past and her character relationship to her aunt.

Nellie Brigid O'Malley (back): I gave my Nellie a middle name to distinguish her from AG's version. She's another book-based character doll, and might just be my favorite. Don't tell the others.

Tabitha Danielle Crow (front): I never intended on keeping Tabby. I bought her as a damaged Rebecca to fix up and donate, but now I don't want to let her go. Her last name actually belongs to a friend of mine; the two of them look like they're related.

Dubheasa Ni Mhaoileidigh, aka Dovie, (back right): Dovie is also an ex-Rebecca and since, logically, I do not need 2 Rebecca-based dolls (nor 4 Josefina molds, nor 2 Josefina mold redheads with green eyes), I shouldn't keep her. Emotion trumps logic though, and I keep bringing her out. She has a sweet, timeless look that I wish AG played more into.

Last, but not least, Apolline Renee Kincaid: I bought her as a semi-dupe for Cecile who was retired well before I started collecting. I also have a penchant for creating my own characters and wanted a 1920s girl (I came up with the character about a year before the first mentions of Claudie), so she lives near New Orleans during the end of the Harlem Renaissance movement there. I love that she has the older Sonali face mold. Apparently I prefer the older dolls, as I didn't choose to keep any of the ones I had bought that were recently released.

Face mold totals: 4 Josefina, 2 Sonali, 2 Jess, 1 Marie-Grace, 1 Addy

Who would you have in your collection of 10 or fewer dolls?

#american girl dolls #american girl #my dolls #agig #ag #dolls of color

[nomtterwhere]

can’t handle it (2) || jake “hangman” seresin x reader

summary: it’s your first day training for the mission, so it’s time to get your head in the game. but when a familiar face shows up, you can’t resist having a little fun…

word count: 1.6k

a/n: first of all, this gif?? give glen powell all the awards for this toothpick work, please. thank you all so much for the love on part one!! i hope you enjoy part two just as much. this one is a bit shorter but trust me i will be compensating with a much longer part three (which might be my favorite so far hehe) and as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

part one // series masterlist

Waking up this morning with the awareness that Jake Seresin was only two doors down the hall brought you right back to your old days at Top Gun. The flirty, yet emptyhanded jokes about sneaking into each other’s room after room checks played in your mind as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling before you shook yourself out of it.

You meant what you told him last night, he couldn’t handle you. The arrogance on that man could fuel an F-18 and someone like you who needed your space to shine knew better than to let yourself get involved with him. No matter how much his smile made you melt, or his intense gaze made you feel like the only person he saw, or his relaxed sense of humor made him easy to talk to…

You needed to get up.

With a sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed. You had your first day of training ahead where you would finally get to meet the person who was going to teach you how to fly this mission. The words Phoenix said rang in your mind now: Who could they possibly get to teach you guys?

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed in your flight suit, you left your room still thinking about what this mission was going to look like.

“Ready for day one?” Phoenix called from across the hall, having been assigned the room across from yours.

You grinned. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Forgot how much these beds sucked though.”

“Ugh, yeah.” Phoenix rolled her shoulders back. “I spent ten minutes just standing under the hot water in the shower, you’d think they would treat us a little better around here.”

You made your way to the hangar where your first session would be held, seeing Hangman and Coyote come from the opposite direction. Both sets reached the doors as the same time, and Coyote made a big deal out of putting an arm out to hold Hangman back from entering the room.

“Ladies first.” He said, dropping into a bow.

“Nice to know someone has class around here.” You said, with a smirk directed at Hangman.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to think I treated you any different than anyone else, darlin’.” His gaze was set on you and you couldn’t help but notice how the green in his eyes complemented the green in his flight suit.

“Oh trust me, no one thinks that.” You patted his chest before giving Coyote a nod.

Hangman only gave you that look that let you know he was biting back a smile as you walked past him into the makeshift classroom before following behind.

“You disgust me.” Phoenix muttered as you took two seats in the middle row.

“Appreciate it.” You grinned, then stood at attention when you noticed the admirals entering the hangar.

Everyone sat as Admiral Bates took the stand to introduce your instructor. A Top Gun graduate, who was a highly decorated captain. You turned as you heard footsteps coming down the aisle and watched as a man carrying a booklet walked towards the front of the room. Your brows furrowed as you tried to place him in your mind; you could swear you’ve seen him before.

It wasn’t until you shifted your eyes to Hangman a few seats in front of you and saw him groan, a defeated look on his face, that it clicked. Your new instructor was the man he had quite literally tossed out from The Hard Deck last night. You couldn’t help but smile, looking down at your desk as you held back a laugh.

Maverick grinned at Hangman and Coyote and they gave him sheepish smiles in return while you tried not to enjoy the moment too much. You shared a look with Phoenix and she furrowed her eyebrows in question and you shook your head, signaling that you would tell her later. This was too good.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze drift to the other side of the room during the lecture a few times, telling yourself you simply wanted to watch Hangman’s reactions to Maverick being the man who was going to prepare him for this mission.

But that quickly went out the window the second he pulled out that damn toothpick, placing it between his teeth with a confident smile. The way he worked it in his mouth let you know that he knew he was hot shit.

God, it was aggravating.

“...that will come down to the man or woman in the box.” Maverick was saying when you tuned back into his words.

At that, Hangman turned his head to look at you and Phoenix with a raised eyebrow. Phoenix subtly flipped him the middle finger while you just rolled your eyes. As much shit as he gave everyone, you knew he respected you and Phoenix as pilots. It didn’t stop Hangman from being, well, Hangman.

Nor did it stop you from noticing the way he shifted the toothpick to the side of his mouth when he looked back at you, his tongue working overtime to get that placing right. You wondered if there was some douchebag school where hot assholes learned tricks like these. They must be getting this material from somewhere.

You forced yourself to focus on Maverick’s words, refusing to give Seresin any more attention. From what you gathered, you would be working on dogfighting today. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an in-depth course on dogfighting, not when there’s hardly been any takedowns in the last thirty years. You could also tell that your superiors were not too happy about this arrangement either. This made Maverick being your instructor a lot more interesting and made you like him a whole lot more. This was not going to be your everyday training.

When you were finally dismissed, you waited by your desk as Phoenix left the hangar, waiting behind for Hangman. 

“Looks like someone’s already in hot water with teacher.” You singsonged, keeping pace with him.

“Oh, shut up.” He said, glancing to the side at you before continuing forward.

“Aren’t you from Texas—where’s that Southern hospitality? That’s no way to talk to a lady, now is it?” You goaded him, now walking backwards in front of him with a big smile on your face.

He stopped, looking down at you and you only brightened your smile.

“Tell me, do you think Maverick will shoot you down today to get back at you or let you off the hook?” You inquired.

You got a full bellied laugh at that one. “You’re having way too much fun with this, aren’t you?”

“It’s not every day you get to say you watched your instructor get thrown out of a bar by a fellow colleague.” You shrugged.

“Just my luck, am I right?” He huffed out a laugh, looking over your shoulder.

He suddenly didn’t seem as relaxed as he was before, his body tense as you could tell his mind was working, trying to figure out the gravity of what he had done and what it could mean for him. It was unusual to see Hangman ruffled in any way and you decided you didn’t like it. At all.

“Hey,” You grab his arm softly, forcing him to look back down at you. “You know I was only teasing, right? I doubt he’s going to hold last night against you.”

His eyes softened, just a bit. “Yeah, yeah I know. I just…I need to go on this mission. Can’t risk screwing up, you know?” He tried to keep up the lighthearted tone, but you could tell there was something lingering underneath. A heaviness he tried to keep out of his words.

“You’re going to be fine.” You made sure he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Once you were sure he knew you were serious, you turned the conversation around. “Though, I can’t guarantee you that spot since you are going up against me.”

The smile returned to his face, albeit slowly and you backed up, releasing his arm as you started towards the planes. Shaking his head, he followed you, smile growing as you kept going.

You felt proud that you were able to lift his spirits even a little bit. Hangman may be arrogant, but he was also a good friend to you. Seeing him in that state didn’t suit him and it only felt right taht you helped him get out of it. You could only hope that—

You jolted as you backed into someone, the person letting out a shocked sound. Spinning around, you came face to face with Maverick, who only looked amused.

“Captain!” You swore in your head. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

“Yes, you should have.” He looked over your shoulder at Hangman, then back at you. “Get yourselves ready, first team goes up in twenty.”

“Yes, sir.” Maverick gave you both a parting smile before exiting and you released a breath.

You couldn’t believe you just did that. It made sense now why Hangman had been smiling so big and you vowed to shoot him down yourself if Maverick didn’t get the chance. You whirled on him. “You couldn’t have warned me?”

“Whoops,” He said with a grin as he walked past you. “Looks like we’re on even playing field now. And hey, you were right: I already feel so much better!”

“Asshole!” You called after him, brushing off the embarrassment.

You couldn’t wait to get in your plane and get through the exercise. You were just about ready for this day to be over.

taglist: @americaarse @insideafictionaluniverse @emotionalbruv @levylovegood @letusbewildflowers @roses-and-grasses @words-4u @maggieromanov @yuhnosdominion @ollyoxenfrees @rule107​ @callalily2000​ @atrxidxs​

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #cant handle it fic

[encephaloscope]

Mabel Sweater/Part 1: About

oh, how happy I am with this one.

I had this project in mind for a while so bringing it out into the world and having it fit and look exactly how I wanted is amazing. I will write two posts about it, because I want to 1- tell you all about it (yarn, pattern, duplicate stitching) and 2- explain the surgery I did on the sleeves to avoid re-doing them completely.

if you don't recognize it, this sweater is inspired by one worn by Mabel in the animated series Gravity Falls (check Disney+, it's so good, so worth it).

the yarn

Wool of the Andes (WotA) is my favorite worsted weight yarn. it's affordable, available in a wide range of colors (many beautiful heathered colorways, too, which I adore), it's non-superwash but not too itchy. it spit splices like a charm and has great warmth. you can knit it at various gauges in the DK-aran range with no problem. not an ad - I just really genuinely love this yarn, lol.

here are the colors I used, from left to right: dragonfruit, creme brulee, poet, tranquil and pumpkin. I think it's a prettttyy good match! I didn't want the orange to be too bright so pumkpin is perfect.

I was very intimidated by the dragonfruit colorway as I don't wear bright colors very often, but it has unlocked a love for pink I didn't know I had! and enough people have told me that it looks good on me that I believe them, now, lol.

the pattern

I wanted a loose-fitting, drop-shoulder, crew neck sweater. I know Mabel's sweaters all have that turtleneck action going on, but I am not comfortable in anything closer than a crew neck. I didn't use a pattern because I can make my own ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hot take: drop shoulder sweaters are the easiest to grade and any decent designer should be able to have all sizes available. also, as a knitter, you can just knit bigger arm openings if you need bigger sleeves, simple as that.

so, I did some math to figure out how many stitches the body had to be. I divided that in two, for front and back. I decided that there would be one purl stitch on each side for a "faux-seam". I also decided that the neck opening should be a little under a third of the width. so I cast-on for the right shoulder, knit a few rows, put those on hold, did the same for the left shoulder, cast-on my neck stitches in between them, and worked the back until I had reached where the underarm would be. I then put my back stitches on hold and started working on the front. I picked up stitched from the right shoulder and just started to knit, shaping the neckline by trying it on me every few rows until I was satisfied. I put that on hold, mirrored it on the left side, then cast-on stitches in the middle, and knit straight until the front was as long as the back. I then joined everything to work in the round until I was satisfied with the length. so, you know. pretty basic improvised top-down drop-shoulder sleeve construction!

speaking of the sleeves, I picked up stitches with no regard for my row gauge. there were too many, the sleeves were puffy, and I didn't like the look. more on how I fixed them in part 2. aside from that, I opted for decreasing in the round every ten rows or so instead of decreasing under the arm. you can see the decreases on the sleeves a little, but I don't really mind, I like the fit better than if they were triangular.

the shooting star

I made the grid in Stitch Fiddle. I just googled something like "mabel rainbow shooting star sweater" and found an image of the design. I imported it in Stitch Fiddle and ... fiddled ... a bit with it. I figured out how many stitches wide I wanted it to be, and I had to slightly tilt the image so the star wouldn't be too wonky. it would have looked better if I had user a thinner yarn for the sweater, but I think I got a decent result for my gauge.

for the shooting star, I opted for duplicate stitching because I hate intarsia. it took three tries to find the technique that worked best for me and I ended up falling in love with the rhythm of it. for real, I was sad to be done at the end. I worked left-to-right, breaking my yarn for every "line" except the very short ones. here's a pic of the backside, if you're wondering what it looks like.

final thoughts

so yeah, pretty proud of myself on this one. I learned new techniques, I improvised a pattern. it was an exercise in trusting my instincts as I tend to overthink everything I create. it was also a project I knit for fun, for me, without the pressure of writing the pattern or having a deadline. as a bonus, I now have an easy Halloween costume!

#mabel pines #gravity falls #mabel sweater #cosplay knitting #knitters of tumblr #plus size knitter #knitting

[seradyn]

A Dream Come True (Chp. 11)

Finally, after 6 months

Chapter 11/35: A Daring Dance For Two

Date time with our daemon man. Get ready for long conversations and some backstory for our reader 😌

Extra long to make up for the back to back hiatuses >.<

Link to work Masterlist

Word Count: 11,052

TW: Childhood trauma

Tags: @savage-rhi @blossom-adventures @ticklemycucumber

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in updates

———————————————————————

The library looked dark, decrepit when it was closed. There was no light coming from the overhead windows, no welcoming gust of warm air to greet you. Closing was one of your least favorite parts of the job, but it was a necessity. You tugged on the front door’s handles experimentally and, of course, the lock held without much effort. Satisfied, you dropped the keys into your bag, turning your back to the old, withered building.

You shivered into your coat, the kiss of winter’s breath turning the tip of your nose red. The temperature was only continuing to drop, much to your dismay. The frosty wind sunk deeply into your clothes, cutting through them like jelly. The pinpricks on your skin had you rushing to find warmth someplace else.

“Ah, there she is. And here I thought you’d keep me waiting.”

You paused, smiling at the teasing voice. You’d almost forgotten. Turning, you found the owner a short distance away.

Ardyn was leaning against one of the great pillars holding up the awning, head tilted down and arms crossed, one leg laced over the other. You could see he still wore that smug, sly expression, directed at the ground with lidded eyes, as if it had been bold enough to comment on the soles of his boots.

You shook your head at him. “I’m sorry,” you said, wondering how long he’d been standing there. “They don’t like to let me off easy.”

He looked up then, his calculating, omnipotent eyes drinking in your form. They, too, held that smirk just as well as his lips.

“I only jest,” he reassured. He pushed off from the pillar, beckoning you after him with a wave of his hand. “Come, my dear. I’ve parked just around the corner.”

You fell into step at his side, a brisk pace to keep up with his longer strides. You stole a breath of the sweet tinge of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. You wondered how much it cost; probably more than your biweekly paycheck.

“So, where are we going?” You asked, keeping up as he took a sharp left down the block, passing the startled faces of the sparse citizenry, who gave a wide berth in their chancellor’s wake.

“Ah, ah,” Ardyn tutted. “That would spoil the surprise.”

“Oh, a surprise?” You asked in wonder, smiling at the thought. You were already curious about what he had in store for you, but now you were even more so.

Ardyn returned your excitement with a grin of his own. “I think you’ll find it quite to your liking.”

“Is that so?” You said playfully, throwing him one of your own smirks.

“Consider it a guarantee,” he purred, grinning in a way that told you his confidence was not merely for show. He took the lead as you came up on a row of neatly parked cars at the end of the street.

You had to swallow a giggle when you saw which car he gravitated to, swinging open the passenger door for you. It certainly suited its owner, just as ardent as he was. A convertible colored dark maroon, much like Ardyn’s hair, with a white race stripe down the middle. A moogle pom pom had been stuck on the antenna, making the vehicle look almost comically whimsical. The top was down, revealing wine colored upholstery to match the paint job.

“Your chariot, my dear,” he hummed as you approached his car.

“Ever the gentleman,” you replied, settling into the red leather seat, the door slamming closed behind you. You paused, closing your eyes in a deep, silent sigh while his scent swallowed you whole, taking you captive with near overwhelming sweetness. Another wave of it washed over you as Ardyn took his place in the driver's seat, the engine humming to life not long after. Soon, you’d merged into traffic, and the library disappeared into the rear view mirror.

A comfortable silence filled the car, the wind whipping through your hair as you were enraptured by the sights that passed you by in a blur, one of restless crowds and neon signs. Each one an invitation, a trap laid simply, only willing to release those from their clutches whose purses had been emptied. You hadn’t the gil to entertain those desires, so you hadn’t seen much of Gralea’s famed nightlife, save for the trip you’d recently taken in its shadows. Even that had been different; most of it had died down by then. Now, you had a chance to experience it in its purest form, with someone who was undoubtedly versed in its culture. It almost felt like going to another country.

Meanwhile, Ardyn was humming away beside you, carefree as he drove you to his ‘surprise’. You smiled even wider when you recognized it as the song associated with the bright yellow birds you adored. You hadn’t taken Ardyn as a chocobo person, but the thought had you biting your tongue to stop yourself from giggling. This was the man you were afraid of not three days ago?

Perhaps there was hope for you yet.

Soon enough, it seemed Ardyn got bored of silence, and decided to fill it with his own voice instead.

“So, tell me,” He began, the words beckoning your attention away from the view. “How long have you been looking after Gralea’s biggest library?”

“Oh, only a few years,” you said, surprised by his interest. “Got recruited right out of college, and I’ve been there since. This’ll be my fourth year working there.”

“Truly? It seems I’ve been missing out, locked in my ivory tower. Tragic, really.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, looking back out the lowered window so he couldn’t see you blushing. “I’m sure I’m no better than the last one. Besides, we can’t change the past,” you said honestly. “There’s no use in worrying about it.”

“Indeed we can’t,” Ardyn said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We are simply forced to live with the consequences.”

You looked back at him after hearing the last word, the creeping darkness that had seeped into it just below the surface. The corner of his mouth twitched, his smile becoming strained as his grip around the wheel tightened. Though it wasn’t long before he remembered to compose himself, those brief emotions tucked away, for now.

Even though he didn’t say it, you knew you’d struck some kind of nerve. A stab of guilt creeped into your heart; you hadn’t meant to upset him. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, he interrupted you, smirking as the car slowed.

“Ah, here we are,” Ardyn murmured, pulling his car in front of a building that stretched far into the sky. Deciding to let the previous exchange go, you gazed up at it as the engine died, wondering how many floors there were. A million, you thought in hyperbole, unclasping your seatbelt as Ardyn departed from his vehicle. Before you could even reach for the handle, he was there, opening the door for you and holding out his hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you said as you placed your hand in his, his fingers curling delicately around your own. He gracefully pulled you onto the sidewalk, looking down at you with fond, half lidded eyes, your door falling closed behind you with a thud.

“Of course, my dearest,” he cooed, releasing your hand and offering up his arm in its place. You looked between him and it for a moment, before you snickered at his gentlemanly nature. You wrapped your hands around his strong forearm, and he began to lead you towards the looming skyscraper.

Between you and said building, a sizable crowd was loitering, the atmosphere filled with an energetic buzz that was almost suffocating. The street was awash with their laughter and conversations, made more boisterous as some teased drunkenness, booze flowing freely from somewhere unseen.

Not your type of people, if you were being honest, but usually you weren’t one to let such things bother you.

Usually.

It was as you got closer you realized how much different you were to these people. Not just in mannerism; it was obvious in something as simple as your state of dress. You weren’t someone who was big on expensive designer products, but even you could name some of the brands their garments oozed. Not only that, but there seemed to be only two options among them when it came to outfits; freshly pressed suits, or flowing, iridescent gowns. There was no in between, not a hint of anything casual to be found.

And you’d just come from work. You were in street clothes.

Being led towards the gathering by the imperial chancellor no less.

Your arrival hasn’t gone unnoticed, either. It didn’t surprise you that the chancellor’s presence was one to turn heads, but that fact was slightly more mortifying when you were practically hanging off him. Your eyes flicked from face to face, watching the raised eyebrows, the bewildered stares when they saw Ardyn’s company, no doubt questioning his choice of companionship. You wondered how truely low their opinion was of you, when they didn’t even have to pause their conversations to pass silent judgment.

You huddled closer to Ardyn, trying to find some semblance of comfort in his presence, even while he seemed none the wiser to their scrutiny.

“Are you…sure this is okay?” You asked meekly, staring out at the high class gathering around you. You wondered if it would tarnish his reputation, being seen with someone so much lower than him, even if he didn’t believe that himself. Surely word would get out he’d been seen with someone like you.

Ardyn, whom you would’ve considered observant before, seemed completely oblivious to the weird looks the two of you were getting. He rather appeared quite jovial, smirking at nothing in particular, like he’d been welcomed with a standing ovation.

“Hmm?” He hummed happily, an eyebrow going up at your question. “Is there a problem, my dear?”

“N-no, it’s just - ” you looked at the ground in shame, fearing your woe sounded juvenile. Your social anxiety was bad enough with Ardyn alone, but in crowds, being the center of attention made you want to jump out of your own skin. You just hoped you weren’t embarrassing him. “I’m not exactly…well dressed for the occasion.”

Ardyn hummed again, looking out at the gathering as if just now noticing them. Something darkened his features, sinister and wicked, as he continued to smile while locking eyes with the boldest of the bunch. A silent challenge for them to dare question whose company he chose to share.

The nobles all quickly looked away, smart enough to fear the chancellor’s wrath.

“Should there be any…complaints,” his lips curled even higher, making him almost look malicious. “I shall deal with them personally.”

You had no idea what he meant by that, but you heard the seriousness in his voice. He wasn’t bluffing. Knowing he was willing to stand up for you, you eased out a tense breath, nodding in thanks.

The people standing close to the glass double doors scurried away as you reached the building, Ardyn opening them so you could both enter. Your muscles relaxed when you were finally out from under the noble’s unabashed prying eyes.

Which didn’t last long, unfortunately. The inside wasn’t much different from the outside. A dark restaurant laid out before you, undoubtedly where the outside patrons had gotten their drinks. Standing tables littered the room, there wasn’t a chair in sight. It reminded you of the cocktail parties you’d seen on TV.

You’d never actually been to one of those.

The bar was taking up the entirety of the left wall. Bottles of all different colors and shapes decorated it, the glass reflecting the orange glow of the dim ceiling lamps. They were completely swamped by the looks of it, there weren’t any open stools. To make it worse for the staff, the people in here matched the ones outside; dressed nicely, and making enough noise to drown out the decades-old music that was playing overhead. You watched the wait staff as they darted around skillfully, only stopping to place drinks or small plates of food down before whisking away to the next table.

You hoped they got good tips.

You figured this restaurant was the reason Ardyn brought you here, but he didn’t even flinch as he led you past it all, heading for an elevator in the very back you hadn’t seen before. Without a word, he pressed the ‘up’ button, grinning at the slight look of confusion on your face.

The elevator slid open with a cheerful ding, and Ardyn ushered you on. It was empty, much to your relief, meaning you wouldn’t be pressed up against him. He pushed a button for a high floor, something in the 60’s, ascending as soon as the door closed again.

Awkward silences were becoming a common thing between the two of you, and the slow, jazzy elevator music only made it worse. Your fingers instinctively flexed around Ardyn’s arm, your breathing sounded deafening in your ears as anxiety began to spin its web around your heart. You should’ve been excited, but what had transpired outside left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn’t help feeling you didn’t belong. You could only imagine the place Ardyn was taking you had the same kind of clientele, their judgeful eyes seeing you as an easy target. An entire meal feeling like an insect under a microscope sounded miserable.

Something brushed over the top of your knuckles, pulling you back to reality. Looking down, you watched as Ardyn rested his free hand atop your own, giving your fingers a light squeeze of reassurance.

“You needn’t be so nervous,” he said quietly. Soothingly. “You’ve nothing to prove to me.”

You were silent for a moment, the gentleness in his voice pulling your gaze upward. He was smiling at you. Softly, sweetly…like he cared.

“All I ask is that you be yourself.”

Heh. Yourself.

When was the last time you were yourself?

Not since you were little, you realized. And what a sad thought that was.

Did you even know who you really were anymore?

Not really. It had been beaten out of you long ago. Your parents used it as an excuse to abuse you, your friends an excuse to exclude you. You’d decided it was better to keep it under lock and key, keep it hidden and guarded. Even someone as close to you as Satus could only say he saw part of it. It’d been years, but those wounds were still red and swollen.

In its place, you became an expert at crafting masks. If one friend group wanted you to act one way, you could, and another for a different group. If your parents expected you to be their pauper princess, then you could be so, to an extent. If your best friend said something you didn’t agree with, you found it hard to voice a dispute.

The poisonous flower of rejection had festered for years, building a cage of weaving roots around what you might call yourself.

And some part of you didn’t think you were wholly undeserving of those lashes.

You blinked, the memories causing your eyes to go misty. You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering how long you’d been struggling with Ardyn’s statement. He was still waiting. Patiently, his gentle smile never left his face as he waited for an answer. His tolerance was surprising.

Perhaps…Ardyn was different. Maybe his request didn’t come with concealed expectations.

That was enough to give you a sliver of hope.

“…Okay,” you said, meeting his eyes. “I’ll…try.”

Arden nodded approvingly, giving your hand another squeeze. “That’s all I can ask.”

The rest of the elevator ride was in silence, both of you watching the glowing red numbers above the door count up.

While you hoped you weren’t getting too ahead of yourself…

The elevator dinged again, announcing that you'd arrived, the numbers now reading 64. The doors slid open, Ardyn stepping out with you as soon as they finished.

It was much brighter up here, which you appreciated. Ornate chandeliers dangled from a high ceiling, reflecting off the marble tiles and glass windows. The center of the room had been cut away, allowing you to see down into the lower floors between bars of railing. As you got closer to the edge, you could make out people scurrying around like little worker bees.

Your destination appeared to be along the far wall though, if the long line of people was any indication. Indeed, Ardyn leisurely steered you in that direction, allowing you to take in your surroundings. It was another dimly lit restaurant by the looks of it, although you couldn’t see far inside through the crowd. You just hoped you’d have some illusion of privacy while you dined.

Ardyn breezed past the line, which surprised you at first, before you remembered exactly who you were with. No one would dare make the imperial chancellor wait in a line, of all things. Commoner as you were, it felt quite strange to you, wrong somehow, but you knew it wasn’t your place to say anything. Best to just follow in Ardyn’s lead.

At the threshold, you were finally able to spot a sign displaying the restaurant’s name. When you read it, a small gasp parted your lips.

La Compañera. One of the best, and most expensive restaurants in all of Gralea. Their reservation list was full months in advance, from what you’d heard, and their meals could cost you a week's worth of work. The kind of place everyone knew of, talked about, but few could say they’d ever been. You’d given up on going there yourself, not on a librarian’s salary at least.

This was where Ardyn meant to take you?

You looked up at him with wondrous eyes. He, on the other hand, looked more smug than you’d ever seen him, like the whole of Eos was his to command. He had every right to be, too. It was no wonder he was so confident you’d like his choice for the evening.

“You should learn not to doubt me, dearest,” he said, basking in your amazement. He was enjoying your reaction a great deal.

“I thought you could only get in with a reservation,” you breathed, looking around with astonishment. The place was positively buzzing, a chorus of forks hitting plates and too many conversations to count. As you neared the hostess stand, you could even see a part of the kitchen off to your left, and you were able to hear the sizzling of meat, of pasta turning in a frothy boil. Delicious smelling vapors wafting from its steel appliances, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“Indeed,” Ardyn said cheerfully. “Though you’ll find few are bold enough to enforce such rules in my presence.”

You hummed at that, not doubting it, but wondering how that was going to work out. The restaurant only had so many tables, and if they were all full, him being chancellor wouldn’t mean much.

Your questions were soon answered, as you both stood before the hostess. She was dressed in a suit; white button up with black khakis, hair tied back as she scribbled down the names of arriving parties. You both waited for a moment, you assumed for her to acknowledge you, but instead another woman stepped before you, wearing the same uniform.

“Chancellor Izunia!” She chirped, smiling brightly at him. “It is an honor to serve His Excellency, as always.” She bowed low and deep, hand held daintily over her heart.

“The honor is all mine, Charlette,” Ardyn preened. With a flourishing wave of his hand, he gave his own short bow, which you were quick to copy. Although not before you shot him a questioning look; he knew their names?

“I was hoping to make use of our little arrangement,” he went on, straightening. “I could think of no better place, especially since I am want to entertain a special guest.”

He smirked down at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked away, trying to hide the creeping crimson that invaded your features.

“Of course, Chancellor,” the woman - Charlette - said. Reaching around her coworker, she grabbed two menus from the stand before making her way back into the depths of the restaurant, expecting you to follow. She led you through a wide eating area, dotted with tables dressed in white linens, flickering candles set in the center of each one. The place was huge, and you lost count of how many twists and turns it took to finally reach your table. It wasn’t just any either, tucked into a secluded corner, the angle perfect to keep prying eyes out. The wall it was pushed up against was made entirely of glass, allowing a grand, near endless view of the sprawling metropolis below. Your breath caught in your throat, admiring the sea of speckled lights, like stars swimming in benevolent waters.

You weren’t given much time to admire it though, Ardyn slipping from your grasp to take his seat, forcing you to do the same. The seats were heavy - expensive, you corrected - the wood polished and dark as you settled into it. Your hostess turned waitress placed the menus in front of you, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the candles sprung to life with gentle orange flames. She tucked her lighter into a pocket as she set another small sheet of paper down, the drink menu, you assumed. With that, she was gone, disappearing into the throng of suited staff and pampered guests.

While you unfurled the neatly folded napkin and laid it across your lap, you eyed the silverware dubiously. It seemed each set came with two of each utensil, though a glance at Ardyn’s side of the table told you that was intentional. One bigger, and more square, the other dainty and curved. You may have pondered them longer, had your stomach not given a gentle roll, reminding you you hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

“If you’ll indulge me…” Ardyn said softly, beckoning your eyes upward. He sat with his chin resting on laced fingers, like he was making a decision of utmost importance. “It would be criminal to not let you sample some of their finest Cabernet Sauvignon. A rare find these days; the grapes are grown in Lucis.” Ardyn smirked, leaning back in his chair to lounge as if it were a throne.

You concealed your confusion as best you could. You had no idea what he just said, but he mentioned grapes, so you figured it was wine of some sort.

You’d hoped to avoid this, but you knew it was inevitable. Unfortunately, you’d never really come on to alcohol like most people. In fact, you hated the stuff, grimaced every time its foul taste met your lips. While your peers had been off making fake IDs and clubbing, you were sipping milk teas and reading books on the couch. Thinking back on it, it was really no wonder you weren’t invited to parties.

Of course, you couldn’t tell Ardyn that. It was silly, childish. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself by revealing you couldn’t handle your liquor. As much as it pained you to almost immediately break your promise to him, you couldn’t find the strength to be honest.

Instead, you smiled, meeting his honied eyes. “I’d be delighted,” you said sweetly.

Ardyn’s smirk grew at that. “Splendid. I’ll have them fetch us a bottle when they return.”

“Sounds good,” you said, eyeing the menu. Food seemed much more appealing at the moment. Your stomach gurgled its agreement.

The menu wasn’t big. That was a mark of its quality though, each dish more extravagant than the last. You only recognized a handful of them, but for those you did, you knew they were ones that required a careful hand, and hours of prep work. Things most people didn’t dare trying to make at home, lest they spend all day laboring over a ruined meal.

You’d been worried the place would be too high class to have anything you’d like, picky eater as you were, but it seemed you were in luck. One of their specials was something you’d had before, and it was one of your favorites. Your mother made it when your older sister got her doctorate. The dish had taken the entire day to prepare, but when you all sat down and took a bite, it was more than worth it. You hadn’t had it since then, and the thought of tasting it again brought a small smile to your face. The memory of its flavor ghosted across your tongue excitedly.

Having made your choice, and noticing Ardyn was still nose deep in one of the menus, you gazed out at the dining area, admiring the decor. The place was certainly designed with your scenario in mind, and you could see why. The place was dark, hushed, allowing a sense of seclusion for its diners. Candles and dim lights gave it a cozy feel, helped by the warmth of a fire crackling in a brick fireplace as its centerpiece. The restaurant’s popularity was clear; not a single table was left yearning for guests. Even the bar, which you’d passed on the way to your seat, had someone perched on each stool.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” you said suddenly. “How did you manage to get this table? I know you’re the chancellor and all, but the place is always fully booked from what I’ve heard.”

Ardyn lowered his menu, meeting your eyes while chuckling lightly. “Oh, it is, though we have come to a certain agreement. I’ve prevailed upon our dear Emperor to accept his catering only from specific establishments. You’ll find not even the smallest of His Radiance’s galas are absent of such luxuries. In exchange, they’ve agreed to always save a table in my name, should I ever choose to stop by. A…mutually beneficial relationship.”

You paused to stare at him for a moment, his words digesting, before you couldn’t stop a light laugh from tickling up your throat. He was even cagier than you’d thought.

“Clever,” you complimented. It seemed he had the whole of Gralea wrapped around his fingers.

Ardyn positively beamed. “I have my moments.”

You both shared a laugh at that. Quite the understatement, you both knew.

As your snickers began to die down, your waitress returned, cradling a fancy, vase-like bottle filled with clear water, dropping it off as she asked for your orders. Ardyn got his special wine you couldn’t pronounce, along with one of the meals you didn’t recognize, and Charlette complimented his choice with a forced sweetness. It made you cringe a little, seeing her lick his boots as much as possible before she asked what you wanted. Such was one of the downsides of being with someone so high in Niflheim’s pecking order.

Once she was gone, you turned back to each other, Ardyn smiling brightly at your attention. It was so boyishly innocent, you couldn’t help returning it, even when you felt heat creeping up your neck. Oh, he was cute.

“I’d like to get to know you better, if you’ll humor me,” he said, leaning back in his seat, sinking into its cushions, his eyes partially lidded.

You nodded your approval; it was customary on first dates after all. You just hoped he’d give you a chance to do the same, though you had a feeling he probably couldn’t be as open as you’d like. Few could say they knew much about the chancellor, and you figured there was a reason for that. He’d be a tough nut to crack, but you had a deep desire to find out more about him.

Parallels between Real Ardyn and Dream Ardyn aside…

“You said you attended university before starting your career,” he began. “What did you study under their tutelage?”

“Public relations,” your answer was automatic. The question had been asked countless times while you were a student, after all. “I also minored in ancient Lucian, but I’m a little rusty these days.”

It was true, you’d once been semi-fluent. The language had caught your attention after you’d learned of your ancestry. While your blood was mostly a mix of Niff and Tenebraen, a drop of Lucian ran through your veins. Bred out through generations, your ancestors had once owned land there. When you’d found out, you liked the idea of connecting with that part of yourself, and, for once, your parents agreed. Dead language though it was, many books from those days lived on, allowing people to study it as they pleased. Your own skills had atrophied though, having no one else to speak with, and little time to practice on your own. Sadly, more of it slipped through your fingers each day, but you could still hold a basic conversation.

Ardyn’s eyes practically sparkled at that. “Ancient Lucian?” He said slowly, wonder lacing his tone. “Now that is something you don’t hear very often.”

“It’s a pretty language,” you said, smiling with pride at how impressed he seemed. “It’s so different from our modern tongue, I loved seeing how much we’ve changed.”

Ardyn nodded. “I must say, I’m surprised. Few have the patience to learn it.”

“Yeah, my classes were pretty small. And it doesn’t translate into the modern word very well. Plus all the symbols…”

“A challenge I’m sure you more than excelled at facing. You’ll have to demonstrate for me sometime,” Ardyn chortled. “I’ve yet to meet anyone able to master it.”

“‘Master’ is a strong word,” you chuckled. “I haven’t been able to practice much now that I've graduated, but I’d like to get better at it again.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” he smirked. “I have known it for many, many years.”

Your eyes widened, and you gaped at him, much to his amusement.

“You know Ancient Lucian?!” You said, astounded. How, why did he know ancient Lucian? You hadn’t met another person who knew it since you left school.

“Indeed I do,” Ardyn purred, pleased with the bewilderment that twisted your expression. “Our friends across the pond found the idea of communicating in a language we couldn’t understand quite grand, given the circumstances. Our intelligence agencies have become versed in the tongue to compensate, and I followed suit, so I may be kept abreast of their messages without the need for a translator.”

After hearing his explanation, you relaxed a little, glad there was an actual reason for it. Though, something still nagged at you from the back of your head. A strangeness you didn’t know how to name, something that felt…off. You decided to ignore it, all too happy to accept what he’d said.

Just a coincidence…The dreams may have been in the past, but it’s just a coincidence.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

“Makes sense,” you said with a nod. “Hard to spy on someone when you can’t understand them.”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Ardyn shrugged.

As he finished his sentence, fancy curved wine glasses were placed in front of you. Charlette smiled triumphantly as she brandished the dark green bottle, residue of a wax seal dripping down the neck, the cork already gone. She filled your glasses halfway, a forced smile on your lips as you watched it fizzle and foam slightly. She left the rest on Ardyn’s side, bidding you adieu with reassurances that your meals would be out shortly.

Ardyn picked up his glass by the stem, swirling the scarlet liquid under his nose. You took yours as well, thinking how it was like coffee: smelling much too sweet for what bitterness it contained. With an approving smile, Ardyn brought the wine to his lips, and you quickly followed suit. Some part of you hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as you were expecting.

You tried your best not to make a face. You really did. Despite your efforts, you could feel the faint contorting of your expression turning sour. The potent flavor of alcohol permeated your entire mouth in seconds, like someone had cracked open a battery over your tongue, letting the vitriolic acid burn into your taste buds. The PH so low it brought back memories of being violently sick over a toilet.

You gulped it down quickly, relishing in the whisper of sweetness that followed the disgusting liquid. At least with wine, there was a pleasant, fruity aftertaste.

When your eyes flicked up at your companion, you had a new reason to grimace. Ardyn was staring at you, a brow raised, with the slightest frown on his face.

“Something the matter, dear?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Is it not to your liking?”

Oh, bless his heart. He doesn’t realize it’s not this wine I have a problem with.

“Ah -” you hedged, placing your glass back on the table shamefully. You’d hoped you would be able to get through at least a few sips before you made your distaste known.

“I’m sorry,” you said, hating yourself for not being able to just suck it up. “I’m just…not really a fan of most alcoholic beverages. Pure acid…” you muttered the last bit under your breath.

A long pause followed, Ardyn staring at you. You acquainted yourself with the table cloth, fidgeting nervously under his gaze.

You looked up in shock as a hearty laugh filled your ears.

“Is that all, my dear?” Ardyn said between laughs. “Why, you almost had me worried! I was afraid you’d taken ill.”

You blinked owlishly, not expecting his reaction. You let out your own laugh, albeit a nervous one. “No no, I’m fine. Just can’t stomach the stuff. Especially champagne. Never been able to enjoy it.”

“Well, I’d hate to bring you such discomfort.” Ardyn continued to snicker while he spoke. “I’ll have the waiter fetch you something more suitable.”

“Oh that’s okay.” You waved your hand dismissively. You didn’t want to seem picky or ungrateful. “I’m fine with water, you don’t have to -”

But it was too late, Ardyn already waving over one of the attendants that passed by. A tall young man with hair cut down nearly to the roots, a thin mustache on his lip.

“Might you be so kind as to fetch my friend something more to her liking?” Ardyn was saying, the man leaning down to hear him. “Preferably something…virgin? I’m sure you can think of an agreeable substitute.”

The attendant glanced at you, his brown eyes analytic, calculating as he studied you. Just as quickly, an uttered “Of course, your Excellency,” left his mouth before he turned and disappeared into the restaurant.

You sighed at his retreating back, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to do that, it was fine, I promise.”

“Oh but it wasn’t,” he gave you a pointed look. “I’ll not have it be known I’m a bad host. Besides, we came here to enjoy ourselves, and it seems unfair to let me have all the fun.”

Well, you supposed you couldn’t argue with that. He had a point, after all. And hard as you tried to fight it, a little smile crept across your cheeks. It was…kind of sweet.

“Thank you,” you said to the table. The thoughtfulness made a fuzzy warmth settle in your chest.

Ardyn didn’t respond, though his expression softened. A slow nod was all that was needed to show he accepted your gratitude.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to our previous conversation,” he said gently, his fingers laced in his lap and elbows resting on the armrests of his chair.

Looking up, you nodded. “Right.”

“Tell me, do you have any family living in our lovely capital?”

Your smile faltered, fists clenching in your lap, bunching up the napkin. You hadn’t expected him to jump to that so soon. The fuzz in your chest burned like kindling, and you averted your gaze, hoping he couldn’t see the extent of the sourness that replaced your smile.

“They, uh….We’re not exactly on good terms.” You picked at a loose string on the tablecloth, unable to meet his eyes.

“My apologies. I did not mean to upset you.”

“No,” you said quickly, turning back to him. “No, it’s okay. It’s just…I…” You paused trying to think of how to phrase it.

“They always wanted me to be perfect,” you started, pushing down and burying the anger that tried to resurface with the memories. “I was never good enough for them, and they made sure I knew it. They always wished I’d been a son. And my older sister was never any help.”

You swallowed, the lump that’d formed in your throat making it harder to talk with each word. It’d taken years, and lots of therapy, to be able to talk about it at all. You still couldn’t without emotions that’d been left to fester in stained jars from clawing at your skin, threatening to spill. For what does a child crave more than the love of their mother and father?

They only ever saw you as their maid, though. You were cooking the family meals by the time you were ten, cleaning the house and doing the chores since seven. Your family was the proud owner of a successful orchard to the east of the capital, meaning their house was nothing to sneeze at. More of a mansion, but to you it was more of a prison, trapped with a father who shouted and a mother who demeaned. You were beaten into submission, burned and flayed and ripped until you were their perfect little princess, a trained monkey for all to gawk at.

You supposed all the love they had was used up on your sister, whom they spoiled to the point of being rotten. She loved how much they favored her over you. It was like a sport to her, to see how much trouble she could get you into. Any attempts to stand up to her were rewarded with a lock on your door, and a night without dinner. Some part of you did pity her though; she was but a pampered poodle after all. More of an object to your parents than a person, something to flaunt to their rich neighbors.

Schooling wasn’t something they were overly fond of you participating in, since your sister had already proven herself superior in that field. She won awards at science fairs while your grades were good, but not spectacular. A failing in their eyes. When eighteen rolled around, their boot was already firmly placed in your back, the door to their estate shutting with a thunderous crack behind you. They would suffer a runt no longer.

You tensed when something kicked you, snapping you out of your dark memories. Your brows furrowed, and you stared down at the table as if you might see through it. Then - there it was again. Something nudged your shin.

It was Ardyn. His smirk had been wiped clean off, and was replaced with a gentleness you hadn’t seen before. It…looked like sympathy.

“I know the feeling all too well,” he answered your unspoken question. “I never lived up to my family’s standards, so I became an outcast.” Something flicked across his face, and you blinked, recognizing it. It looked similar to what happened when he saw Jeremy; an untamable rage that was held by a leash ripe for snapping. Gone before you had a chance to really see it, buried as deep as it would go.

Well…family issues could certainly explain his bitterness.

You sensed his leg was still encroaching on your side of the table. Thankful that he snapped you out of your whirlpool of thoughts, you decided to return the favor. Sinking down into your seat a little, you reached out with your right foot, finding his boot easily. Delicately, you curled your ankle, giving his shin a comforting rub.

A soft smile returned to his face when he felt you. You gave him one of your own, feeling he deserved to be soothed too.

“So…we’re both a little broken,” you said, like you were sharing a secret. “Maybe we can help each other pick up the pieces, if you’re willing.”

He hummed in thought, letting his smile grow back into a smirk. Good - he was feeling better, then.

“I’d like that,” he said, twirling the stem of his wine glass in his fingers. “If you’re willing to put up with the ravings of an old man.”

You scoffed at him. “You’re not old!” You waved your hand at him in offense. “You look thirty!”

“Close,” he teased, sipping his drink. “I’m thirty-three.”

“See? That’s not old.”

He snickered at how adamant you were. You certainly had fire when you wanted to.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be winning this one.” He leaned back in his chair, defeated. “Ugh, where were you on the council when I needed you?”

“I don’t think I’ve got the patience for politics,” you giggled at the thought. “I’d speak out of line once and get thrown in jail.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Especially with the epidemic of incompetence spreading through the Emperor's cabinet as of late.”

“Giving you trouble, are they?” You said with a chuckle.

“All the time.”

You laughed whilst he shook his head, rubbing his temple in frustration. You supposed even the chancellor couldn’t escape the woes of annoying colleagues.

“Who’s the worst of the bunch?” You probed, not really expecting an answer.

“General Calligo Ulldor,” he said without hesitation, letting out an angry sigh. “He has an ego bigger than the imperial legions, and that is saying something.”

You hummed, taking a sip of water. You could feel its cold touch glide down your throat as you drank. You hadn’t noticed until then, but your mouth had gone quite dry over the course of the evening.

“Never heard of him,” you said, placing your glass back on the table. You weren’t big on politics, but you still knew some of the people on the imperial council. Aside from Ardyn, that is.

He grinned widely at your statement, a mischievousness darkening his eyes.

“I’ll be telling him that when next I see him. He’ll have an utter fit over it.”

You scoffed again. “I doubt he cares what some commoner thinks.”

“And you would be forgiven for that assumption, inaccurate as it may be. The man believes his name echoes from the coasts of Niflheim to the walls of Insomnia.”

“Damn…that is a big ego.”

You smiled as Ardyn laughed, one that was carefree and jovial. You liked that look on him. You decided you wanted to see him laugh like that more.

Right as he was settling down, your waitress returned, steaming plates balanced in one arm while she held a glass in the other. You’d completely forgotten about the drink Ardyn ordered for you, but its bright red color betrayed something sweet, and you were a sucker for sweet things. The warm plate she placed in front of you looked just as appetizing; you didn’t need to sink your fork into it to tell it was cooked to perfection, its savory aroma prompting an impatient growl from your belly.

You both thanked the waitress and she was off, leaving you alone to enjoy your meals. Ardyn encouraged you to tell him if it was all to your liking, and you nodded, though you doubted you would be disappointed. It all looked perfect.

Holding up his glass, Ardyn proposed a toast to your budding relationship. Taking your own, you adorned a goofy smile as your glasses tinked together, both of you taking swigs of your drinks. This one was infinitely better, a mix of ulwaat berries and the sharp taste of oranges. These were the kind of drinks you could suck down all day.

The food was the real highlight though, which was to be expected. As soon as the first forkfull hit your tongue, you melted into your seat, closing your eyes blissfully to bask in the heavenly flavor. It was even better than you could’ve imagined.

For those first few bites, neither of you insisted on conversation, too busy savoring your dishes. Glancing at Ardyn’s, you still weren’t entirely sure what it was, but it looked like some kind of fancy casserole; a layer of starchy substance concealed a treasure of meat and vegetables. You’d have to ask him what it was later.

After a few minutes, Ardyn resumed asking you questions in between bites. You were happy to oblige, the conversation flowing more freely. He started by asking about your hobbies, mercifully leaving the issue of your family aside. You told him about them in scant detail, curious what his own hobbies were, and asking him as much. He told you he fancied all different manners of wine, though that wasn’t much of a revelation, given his enthusiasm for the stuff. He also told you he was rather good at chess, which surprised you. You asked him to play you sometime, though he warned your odds of winning against him were slim, at best. You made him promise not to go easy on you.

By the time you two were done exchanging stories of how you fell into your passions, your plates were greasy and cold, your glasses empty and stained. Ardyn drank almost the entire bottle of wine on his own, yet he didn’t seem even the slightest bit tipsy. He must’ve had a high tolerance, since he seemed to drink it often, by the way he spoke about it.

As soon as you both were satisfied, Charlette appeared, gathering your dirtied plates and asking if you had interest in dessert. Ardyn looked to you wordlessly, leaving the decision in your hands. As much as you were tempted, you were full enough on dinner, and chose to decline. With that, she took the last of the wine, saying she would keep it for his next visit, and add the night's meal to his tab.

When she departed for the final time, Ardyn stood, strutting to your side so he could hold out his hand for you. You blushed a little as you placed your hand in his, letting him help you up. Somehow it felt more intimate then, the way he smiled at you with his trademark smirk and gave his arm for you to take. It felt less like it was just for show and more like he may actually have some interest in you.

As dizzying as the thought was.

But you weren’t going to let your doubts dampen your mood. A pleasant contentment had laid its roots in you, blooming into a smile that wouldn’t leave your face. The evening had gone better than you could’ve expected. Even though there was some initial nervousness, and the hiccup of your family affairs, your conversation had otherwise come naturally. Both of you teased each other, cracked jokes, made like a merry couple, all things considered. It made you feel good. It put a spring in your step as you were walked back to the elevator.

Ardyn, of course, insisted on taking you home. You agreed readily; the building was much too far from home to walk, which left you with few options. Not that you minded, you were feeling more confident in Ardyn’s presence after the night you shared.

The ride home was lethargic, your bodies busy processing what you’d put in them. Ardyn made his way to your apartment without issue, parking his car right next to the front doors. When you got out, so did he, asking if he could walk you to your room. You hesitated at first, but you allowed it. You didn’t want to leave his side just yet. Standing next to him was starting to feel warm. Comforting.

The elevator ride was a silent one, but this time the painful prick of awkwardness was noticeably absent. It let you off with a ding, and you led Ardyn down the row of cookie cutter doors to what you called home.

“This is me,” you said, gesturing to one close to the end. The only distinguishing feature a gold 1021 glued under the peephole.

“…Thank you,” you said, turning to where Ardyn stood behind you, watching you fish around in your purse for your keys. “For tonight, I mean. I had fun.”

Ardyn’s eyes softened. “As did I,” he said.

You stared at each other for a long moment, not saying anything, wondering how you should part from each other. You weren't sure if you should do something more. Should you say goodnight? Hug him? Kiss him? The possibilities swirled in your head, indecision pulling her boney fingers through your hair.

Though, as usual, Ardyn knew what to do. He stepped forward, the familiar feeling of his fingers under your chin welcome. Perhaps it was the lighting, but his amber eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at you.

“Might I be so bold…” he murmured, his half lidded irises blinking long and slow. “As to wish you a goodnight?”

He carded his thumb across your lower lip, a wake of tingling skin left after it. His gaze darted down to watch your mouth get pulled apart ever so slightly, before his eyes snapped back up.

He wanted to say goodnight… but not with words.

Your eyes widened. Did he…really want to…?

It was a little scary, when you realized what exactly he was asking of you. What if you weren’t good enough? Would you disappoint him? Hell, were you even ready for this?

You trembled with a full body shudder, the answer your soul gave shaking you to your core.

“Yes,” you breathed, letting your consent hang in the air as the tension between you two balanced on a knife's edge. Your tongue wet your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall and linger on his mouth, before being caught again by his saucers of honey.

Ardyn hummed in pleasure, holding your chin up for himself.

“Close your eyes…” he whispered.

You obeyed without hesitation, blood rushing in your ears as the anticipation made your muscles tighten.

The ghosting of his breath across your face preceded him. You curled your toes, waiting, and when the stubble of his beard scratched your skin, his lips finally meeting yours, time slowed to a stop.

His touch had always sparked heat deep beneath your skin, a crackling fire of emotions you didn’t dare name.

But this…this was a bonfire, one that struck like lightning down to your fingertips, a raging blaze that stole your breath away. His mouth was soft, decadent in the way it slowly massaged into yours, delectable in the way his beard contrasted his lips. You could sense the faint, sweet taste of the wine he’d had, making him all the more delicious.

It took you a moment to come down from your high, remembering to return his gentle caress. The care he took to familiarize himself with how you moved kept making you lightheaded. Even though he took the lead, he wasn’t demanding. Ardyn allowed you to get lost in the movement, your fingers curling as a need began to bloom in the bowels of your core.

He was addicting.

Whatever fleeting thoughts occupying your brain vanished, leaving behind only the need to join him in that dance. You sighed contentedly into him, melting into his form, your hands coming to rest on his chest. Ardyn made a pleased sound, his own hands dropping to hold your hips, keeping you flush against himself.

It was all at once long and indulgent and over far too soon. You parted from each other with a wet, satisfying pop, panting not from lack of breath, but from the magnitude of what you’d just done. You got kissed by the chancellor. And fuck, you’d liked it. You’d liked it a lot. Your eyes fluttered open, watching him, hoping he’d enjoyed that as much as you had.

Ardyn’s face shone with the gentlest blush, his eyes slightly wide and unblinking. He looked at you like you were a great mystery to him, something he lacked the tools to figure out. He was at a loss for words, his neck showing the faintest hints of perspiration.

But even while his face was contorted with confusion, he couldn’t hide the desire that burned deep within his eyes.

There was a long pause that followed, the two of you just staring at the other. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what you would do.

It did not have to wait long for an answer.

Something in Ardyn snapped. He suddenly lunged forward, sweeping you up and forcing a startled yelp from you, shoving you against your door. The sound was barely out of your throat when he claimed your lips again, holding your body delightfully hostage between himself and cheap wood.

At first, the kisses were light and airy. Perhaps even hesitant, both of you scared of what further indulgence would entail.

But soon, they were needy, desperate. You could sense it in the way he moved, how he clung to you like he feared the very thought of letting go. Like he’d wandered a barren desert all his life, only to now be blessed with the quenching mist of morning rain. You were his salvation, locked away and hidden by those who would wish him suffering.

And you were just as parched, just as depraved in your search for relief.

You could feel the door strain behind you, creaking while it struggled to hold as it pressed against your back, Ardyn humming a possessive growl into your skin.

You held on to his roaming forearms for stability, trying to remain grounded enough to return his sweet affections. The worries from the night, the week before melted away, massaged out of you by the passion, the hunger in his eyes.

So what if it all collapsed, really? Did it matter, when you breathed in Ardyn’s scent, his musk, as you moved to run your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. Oh, and the little whine of delight he made when you nipped his lower lip, his excitement brushing against your thigh.

So what if the world fell apart tomorrow, spoiled by fire and brimstone?

Would it matter, would you care?

No, you realized, humming into his mouth, cupping his stubbly cheek in one hand. His own traveled your sides, slowly dragged up and down, from where your bra could be felt through your shirt down to your hips. His nose pressed against yours, his bangs tickled your forehead.

You gasped when something slick traced your lower lip. You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. But you immediately let him in, unable to stop a slight moan as his tongue darted inside you. The remnants of his meal remained on the dexterous muscle, spreading the exotic spices across your taste buds as he explored your mouth. It intertwined with your own, bringing you together in a deep, primal way.

You could feel heat gathering below you, soiling your underwear. A pressure that built with every featherlight touch.

You felt slightly filthy for it. Normally, you weren’t really one to have sex on a first date.

But he felt so good. So right.

Your left hand untangled from his hair, groping blindly at the door holding you up, trying to fiddle with the handle.

“Do you…want to…come inside?” You asked between kisses, chasing his lips as he dove down to nibble the tender flesh of your neck. You groaned in appreciation, your fingers flying back into his hair.

When your words finally registered, Ardyn froze. You could’ve wailed when he leaned back slowly, meeting your eyes with a calculating expression.

You immediately felt guilt squeeze your chest. You’d overstepped.

“I don’t believe…” Ardyn said through heavy breaths. “…that would be appropriate of me, given how long we’ve known each other.”

Your face fell, as did your heart. The heat inside you fizzled, fading into embarrassment that made you want to sink into the ground.

He must surely think you a whore, now. Gods, you’d ruined it.

“Now, now,” he said gently, taking your crestfallen face into his palm. A sweet smile returned to his features as he rubbed fond circles into your cheek. “There’s no need to look so disappointed.” He leaned down sinfully close to your ear, his voice a siren’s song. “I am not opposed to having a bit of fun, once we come to know each other better.”

Your heart leapt at that. So there was still hope for you.

Ardyn chuckled when we leaned back, noticing how your face had brightened. You were just adorable.

“Speaking of which,” he began, letting his hands fall from you as he took a step back. Your body unconsciously swayed in his direction, missing the warmth of his caress. Oh, how he’d never get tired of watching you chase his touch. “I had plans to spend the afternoon at the imperial gardens at his Radiance’s humble abode. It would bring me unending delight if you were to join me.”

You stared at him with wide, excited eyes. “Is that allowed?” You asked. Not just anyone was permitted into the imperial palace, especially common folk. You’d only ever seen it in passing, from the outside.

Ardyn grinned mischievously. “With my blessing, you are allowed anywhere, my dearest. Sans perhaps, the Emperor’s private quarters. I don’t believe he would find it amusing if we visited him uninvited.”

You laughed quietly at the thought. Ardyn certainly had an interesting sense of humor.

Stepping up to him, you caught him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest, reminding yourself of when you’d done the same thing in a dream. His clothes were just as comforting and full of warmth as then too, and you delighted in the movement of his lungs, the beating of his heart. After a moment, he held you with just as much enthusiasm, one hand rhythmically combing through your hair while the other cupped the small of your back.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow?” You asked, looking up at him in question. He still had that soft adoring smile on his face, and you could’ve melted at seeing it displayed for you.

He brushed the back of his knuckles across your cheek, widening your pleased grin.

“I swear it on my honor as Chancellor,” he smirked, that whimsical mischief you were coming to know returning to his eyes.

You giggled at him, releasing his waist in favor of taking his hand from your face, pressing a delicate kiss on the back of his fingers. “A simple promise would do.”

“Then a promise you’ll have,” he said. “I’ll have an attendant ready for you by noon tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready a few minutes prior to his arrival, it would be a shame to make him wait.”

You gave a short nod. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” You released his hand as he stepped backward, waving as he turned toward the elevator. “With that, I bid you farewell. Until tomorrow.”

You returned his wave smally, watching him go.

“Good night, Ardyn.”

He paused midstep, looking at you over his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten.

“Good night…花.” (hana)

Your eyes widened, a soft gasp falling from your lips as he smirked at you. He continued on down the corridor, as carefree as he was at the convenience store.

Like he hadn’t just called you his flower in ancient Lucian.

Your head spun with it, a flush washing down to your fingertips. It was so…intimate, in a different way. Like a promise, a trusted secret. You almost wanted to call after him, say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything suitable. Plus, you didn’t want to overstep so soon after you’d already stumbled. He’d set a pace for the both of you in this. The least you could do was respect it.

So, with some reluctance, you focused on getting your door open. Still, you couldn’t wipe your stupid smile from your face. He called you flower, you thought giddily, the door clicking softly as the lock was undone. You closed it gently behind you, not wanting to wake your neighbors. Glancing at the digital clock on your stove, it was already well past ten. The fact had your body sagging. It’d been easy to ignore your tiredness before, but now that you were alone, it struck you with full force. It was past your bedtime.

Throwing your purse onto the coach carelessly, you got ready for bed. Your brain was filled with the memories of your night out, replaying the best parts as you showered and changed. You’d had more fun than you thought you would.

And you were going to see him again tomorrow!

You let out a happy sigh at the reminder, snuggling into bed. You were excited to see him.

So much so, it was almost enough to make you forget about your dreams. And the nagging sense of wrongness that was an incessant thorn in the back of your mind, as you drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep well…あなた.” (anata)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ardyn slammed his fist against the elevator wall, the metal groaning as it caved from the force. Another dent for the disgusting bucket that building called a lift.

“Gods damn it all,” he muttered, a fury that was all too familiar making him tremble with a need to release it.

The kiss had been a test. He wanted to know how much the gods had made you in Aera’s image, and your little date gave him the perfect opportunity to test not only your personality, but also your more…intimate mannerisms. A quick peck was all it was meant to be.

But it became so much more. When his lips touched yours, he got the same feeling he did when he kissed his beloved. How his heart felt like it was soaring, content and ignorant of the turmoil that shook the ground below. With her, he forgot his hurts as a healer who absorbed the scourge, and instead could simply exist. Pretend for a few moments he lived a peaceful life with his beloved, drowning in the happiness she wrought.

And it’d happened again. He felt it as soon as he kissed you. That happiness, the love he craved so deeply, even if he denied it. Your lips had moved with that same feeling of reverence, the same unconditional love he once felt from her. When you parted from each other, his soul screamed, for it was desperate to feel even an ounce of that again.

So, against his better judgment, he’d kissed you again. And again. And again. He let himself get lost in it, closing his eyes as he remembered her. He could picture it, stealing time away from his duties to waste it in the gardens together. Or stolen moments at the inn of the town he was curing, where they would relax for a short while before their callings beckoned them onward.

Until you spoke, that is, reminding him who it was he was actually kissing.

That had been a splash of cold water to his senses, and he knew he had to stop. He’d let it go on for far too long.

His fingers hesitantly traced his lips, which tingled with the memory of your touch. No, it hadn’t been the exact same as Aera, he realized. You were both gentle in your affections, certainly, but there was something else in yours. A fiery determination mixed with a hint of apprehension. You weren’t as sure of yourself as Aera was, but you had enough will to fight that part of yourself when you wanted to.

He let out an angry sigh as the doors slid open to the lobby. He’d have to do more tests to be certain.

The dinner had been fruitful at least. Even though he was a bit sad to see you still couldn’t be completely honest with him, he’d expected as much. Well, no matter. He’d just have to break down your walls, earn your trust. Something he could call himself an expert in.

Still, he’d gotten quite a bit out of you. He learned enough to tell that you were not a carbon copy of his Aera, which had him relieved. He’d been worried the gods would be too lazy to think of anything else, couldn’t imagine anyone besides her holding him in any positive regard. That they would copy and paste her personality, her wants, her passions onto another body, plastering another face over it.

They hadn’t, though, which surprised him. Aera had been a fan of architecture, something that you displayed no interest in. Reading was something you had in common, but he supposed he couldn’t really blame you for that one - you worked in a library after all. She also had no issues with her family, at least none that he could recall. No, you were your own person. The gods had given him a small mercy on that front.

Yet that mercy was a double edged sword. While he could confirm you were your own person, he could also confirm there was unmistakably something bigger at play here. It was no coincidence you made him feel the ways Aera did. And it was no coincidence you’d met now, so close to the cursed prophecy’s end.

A prophecy he was now certain had begun pulling at your strings.

Though for what purpose, he still couldn’t say.

He’d have time to figure it out though, under the guise of more ‘dates’.

Speaking of which…

Ardyn pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he slammed his car door shut. It rang once before it was answered.

“Yes, your Excellency?” The scratchy voice of one of his servants chirped.

Ardyn said your name, your full name, into the device. “I want you to find me the location of her immediate family. I’d like to pay them a visit…”

“At once, your Eminence.”

———————————————————————

Thank you everyone for the patience and support. It has really helped me get back into this, now that I have time.

I kept things like Reader's hobbies and what they were eating vague so you can put in whatever you like :). I personally imagined reader got some delicious beef wellington and Ardyn got a shepherd's pie. I head canon he likes commoner food, it's comforting for him.

Also, since some of you know I do have some childhood trauma, I just want to say the stuff I said about reader's family is completely fictional. My family is wonderful and I love them very much. We're going out for drinks later :) (yes the alcohol thing is real though so wish me luck lmao).

Also also I decided since I'm semi bilingual I wanted to add some Japanese into the story! Don't worry, I'll make sure to put translations in the text where it appears, that way you don't have to scroll/look anything up to understand it. This time is the exception because I wanted it to be a surprise. Japanese definitely exists inside FFXV already, I'm just tweaking it so it can be a sweet little thing between Ardyn and reader :) Hope you enjoy it!

Translations: 花 = flower あなた = dear (or a general term of endearment)

No, the dreams weren't in ancient Lucian, they were in English. Reader didn't even know they were in Lucis during them, and probably still has some doubt about the exact location.

Anyway, I've set a routine for myself to write a little bit everyday, which I hope I can adhere to. Please look forward to future chapters!

#ardyn #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn x reader #ardyn izunia x reader #ardyn x you #ffxv fanfic #also on ao3

[canary0]

July 24th - Dracula 2023

Captain’s Log of the Demeter

I’ve heard that when you’re having or about to have a heart attack or something along those lines, you gain a sense of inevitable doom. I think I understand that feeling now.

We’re heading into the bay of Biscay with a major storm ahead, and another of the men disappeared. Needless to say, the others are understandably terrified. The mate is angry again – I can’t fathom why he gets angry when the men are nervous for very legitimate reasons. I’m worried there will be some violence between them. Can’t afford that when disappearances are happening.

I’ll have to keep an eye out.

–

The Diary of Mina Murray

Today Lucy brought us up to one of her favorite spots in Whitby and we got a chance to see more of the town. It’s very picturesque, with red-roofed buildings piled up along banks of the River Esk that runs through the town. The mouth of the river extends toward into long concrete constructions like pincers with lighthouses on either side in the middle. Most of the town is on one side of the river, alongside some beautiful beachfront that it will be fun to go down to this summer. On the other side are a few rows up houses, and then the area clears into a large green clearing, at the center of which is a beautiful ruin of an old abbey.

The spot in question is around the old abbey, and the day was perfect for going up there – bright and stunningly blue as can be imagined. Jonathan seemed hesitant as we approached the abbey from a distance, and as we crested the hill at the top of the stairs up to it, but I suppose that shouldn’t be two surprising for a variety of reasons. We paused for a little while at the top of the hill, as the lingering anemia left him more tired than usual, but then we continued on.

The old abbey is filled with beautiful, bright green grass, and the old architecture is remarkably intact – some of the windows even still have their mullions and glass. Jonathan took pictures as we went up, quite taken by the ruin’s beauty now that he was up here. He’s always loved beautiful landscapes, and it was a comfort to see him smile again. Lucy was excited to play tour guide, showing us all around and talking about the history of the abbey like a seasoned docent.

Not too far away is another active church, but it’s also very old. There’s a graveyard attached filled with very old graves. Walkways cross cross the grounds, and there are a lot of little stone benches scattered around. Lucy’s favorite is one toward the end of the graveyard, where you can see over the whole Esk River valley and across the headland, though Jonathan remained back in the shade, seeming content to gave out over the graveyard and wander the grounds a little bit.

I’ve heard stories here, about a white woman that appears in one of the church windows, and bells that sound when a ship is lost at sea. There were a few people about, and I ended up asking an older woman nearby. She looked to be in her mid-80s, maybe older, and had pale blue eyes that always seemed to be smiling.

She said, “Well… I’ve never seen the white woman in my time. I swear I’ve heard the bell at night, though. Now, my great grandad, he would have told you that it was all a bunch of hooey. Didn’t believe a thing he couldn’t hold in his two hands.” She chuckled at that. “Tourists like hearing about it, and I think it would be a bit fun if it were true, so I don’t think it’s a bad thing to indulge in such stories. I like telling them to my grandchildren.”

She told me a few stories of the possible origin of the white woman – supposedly a woman was built into the walls, a woman who died of sadness in the abbey after her husband didn’t return home, who still looks out to sea for him… It was all quite interesting. Lucy was quite rapt with attention as well. Even Jonathan was listening from a little way away, and joined us after she bade us goodbye and headed down the steps.

After she left, he sat down with Lucy and I and said, surprising both of us, “… I hope the story of the white woman is just a story.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Oh? I thought the idea of the second story rather romantic…”

He smiled a little at that. “Yes… But I wouldn’t want anyone to be tormented like that, trapped forever beyond death.” He put a hand on one of the tombstones as if it was the shoulder of a friend. “This is a beautiful place to rest. I’d like to hope everyone here is at peace.”

Lucy looked thoughtful at that, and we stayed up there and enjoyed the breeze for a while until sunset, returning once it was getting dim.

Apparently we're going wedding stuff shopping tomorrow, so we'll need rest.

#dracula daily #dracula 2023 #fanfic #jonathan harker #just for fun #modern retelling #lucy westenra #mina murray

[naradivision]

Miraitabi Home Aesthetics

I had this post sat in my draft for months and finally, it’s time for my boys’ house tour episode…

—Yuuya Kanata

Top Row: Balcony/Laundry, Yuuya’s Bedroom, Ojou-chan’s house Middle Row: Father’s altar, Entrance, Kitchen Bottom Row: Recording Room, Father’s Room/Mini Studio, Living Room

🏮 Tidbits 🏮

Yuuya lives on the 2nd floor of a certain apartment in Nara city

He is on favorable terms with the landlord auntie. Moreover, she shows to be quite sympathized with him for his father’s sudden demise

He usually does laundry on the balcony and also keeps some edible veggies like sunflower sprouts in the planters out there

His bedroom used to have bunk beds back when his big sis was still around, but when she left, he sold it out because he thinks it has no use for someone living alone anymore…

After adopting Ojou-chan, he decided to build a cat house to welcome her. And as funny as it may seem, he has recently got another new roommate again —Luckily, looks like this new roommate doesn’t need much space for the living

He owns one red bicycle which he regularly uses and is allowed to parked it in the parking space on the ground floor

Another trivia about him: Yuuya can cook rather well and he tended to make his own meals —He only depends on instant food just when he feels down

He was once used to take charge of making meals when his father was still alive since his father was a bit clumsy at cooking (His dad had a weird tendency to often get something burnt by accident)

His father’s room is full of his bittersweet memories yet is his most favorite place to find himself in, and now he has turned it into his own mini-studio

Although his father has owned a separated studio elsewhere nearby, in his room is still all equipped with many music instruments which Yuuya refuses to sell any no matter what

There is a minimal soundproof room (Recording room) built in one side of his father’s room as well

Also, on the other side of the room has his father’s urn placed in a small altar. And you may guess it right: his family including him is Buddhist

—Asahi Tomoharu

Top Row: Back Corridor, Asahi’s Bedroom Middle Row: Store Interior, Exterior/Storefront, Store Counter Bottom Row: Grandpa’s Room, Living Room, Kitchen

🍡 Tidbits 🍡

Asahi lives with his grandparents and their personal spaces are mostly up on the upper floor of their store 

His house and family store “Harumatsuya” is located in Nara city’s commercial district known as ‘Naramachi’ a.k.a. granny Momose’s territory

His house/store had been constructed in somewhat traditional Japanese style since the early generations of his grandfather 

Despite still preserving some traditional elements like tatami mats and sliding doors, Asahi renovates almost everything in his room according to his own likings such as decorating it in comfy pink and vamping up his bed to be a canopy one

Asahi is an anime and manga lover too! He has his own manga corner and keeps so many merchs as well as plushies in his room

Most of his numerous hobbies are handicrafts and one of them is embroidery, therefore, he also has one sewing machine placed somewhere in his room. He may not be into crossdressing or cosplaying himself but he is kinda into making cute clothes!

Asahi’s grandpa is unfortunately bedridden, so his own room is on the first floor (For convenience) and his room is equipped with few medical supports

His kitchen and ingredient room is pretty large and is located at the back of the first floor where Asahi and his grandmother mostly spend so much time preparing things before the shop opens

—Saigo Fuyugami

Top Row: Saigo’s Bedroom, Antique Room, Office Middle Row: Hydrangea Garden, Exterior, Staircase Bottom Row: Security Vault/Chishio’s Room, Living Room, Dining Room

💠 Tidbits 💠

(I’ve already described it once here!)

#hypmic oc #hypnosis microphone oc #nara division #miraitabi #yuuya kanata #saigo fuyugami #asahi tomoharu #yuuya aesthetic #asahi aesthetic #saigo aesthetic #house moodboard #moodbord

[awsugar]

@cryptidvenom In honor of the nearly 1st anniversary of Frank's poolside thirst trap ft. a little frog from last July, I tested whether craiyon could recreate it... and got these monstrosities. I think my favorite is the one that looks like he's wearing a high-waisted t-shirt onesie from urban outfitters in the middle row left. Or the scary skinny dip in the top row middle. I thought you might want to be cursed with these today.

LMAOOO please its so scary

#submission #cryptidvenom

[writingkitten]

what happens when you flash the boys? we all know some(all) of them love titties 💚

Being Titty Boys™️ goes both ways!!! >:)

(I’m writing all of these as responses to *public* flashing scenarios)

Also I went a little wild in the beginning so I only did my main favorites (although I love them all 🥺🥺🥺)

Ricardo: ayyyyy we’ve got two scenarios lmao ok first one (which is not canon to my Ricky x Reader world) you were arrested and are now sitting in the interrogation room, alone. You can’t stop thinking about the incredibly handsome detective that put the handcuffs on you… how strong his hands felt as he gripped your wrists… the clench of his jaw whenever his eyes were on you… you were squirming in your seat when the two-way mirror caught your attention. There was no guarantee that he’d be back there (or that he’d be alone) but when you felt that the chair you were in was wet you lifted your shirt without hesitation, breasts on full display. You lower your shirt and wait. The door opens, the handsome detective from earlier glaring at you. The fabric covering his crotch was stretched as far as it would go. He’d get some answers out of you, that was certain…

Now for Ricky x Reader canon scenario: you’re at his parents’ house, a bunch of the Morales family having gathered for a backyard barbecue. Ricky’s little sister, only about ten years older than you, convinced you to do shots of tequila. That, on top of the beer you were almost done with. You were pretty buzzed, not full blown drunk but very goofy and silly. At one point there was a brief moment where you were on one side of the yard, Ricky on the other, both of you alone. No one was paying attention to either of you, and you were feeling frisky, so you flashed him while sticking your tongue out. He quirked an eyebrow, eyes boring into you. One of his cousins came up and started talking to Ricky, and you took the opportunity to slip inside to use the restroom. The house was empty, which was good because someone definitely would’ve heard Ricky slipping in the bathroom before you could close the door, slamming it shut before he shoved you against the counter, his fingers easily slipping inside you.

Otto: oooooh okay flashing Otto in the middle of him giving a lecture??? Sitting in the front row, leaning forward in such a way that shields yourself from everyone’s eyes except for Otto’s, him getting really into the lesson when you carefully unbutton your shirt so your breasts are on full display, his eyes widening and face going red and voice stuttering… wow you’re getting punished but first he needs relief and the lecture is over, fucking strip and bend over the desk

Doc Ock: being out in the middle of the night, alone near the abandoned pier, when you suddenly cross Doc’s path. He’s busy and needs to get back to his hideout, but you’ve had a couple drinks and he’s reaaaally handsome so you flirt but he ignores you, so you flash him and he smiles deviously and says “oh? you wanna play games?” before dragging you by the hair back to his hideout and fucking you

Robert: okay I’m gonna give you two for my teddy bear, because I REALLY like @chrism02’s AU News fic. So it’s pretty difficult to flash someone in the middle of a newscast… but anchors will use their phones A LOT when not on screen. You (as a producer for the newscast Robert anchors) go to the bathroom, take a pic of you flashing the mirror, and send it to him. The wonderful thing is that, as the producer, you can see him when he’s not on screen through a different monitor. The meteorologist has a minute left for her weather hit. You send the pic. 45 seconds. You see Robert glance from his phone to the camera, quirking an eyebrow (he knows you can see him). He opens the pic. His eyes widen, face goes red, mouth agape. Thank god for the desk in front of him that hides his bulge. 15 seconds. He quickly puts his phone away and tries to school his features. Time for Robert to take over again. His face is still red and he flubs the first line of the story, but quickly recovers. At the end of the show, before Robert can leave the studio, you rush to his office (you see him rushing out of the studio, both of you thinking the same thing). You beat him to his office, slamming the door shut and stripping down. You hide under his desk, clothes under your knees. You hear his door open, the footsteps approaching you. He’s looking right at you when he stops behind his desk. “I’m not locking the door this time,” he says, your heart rate quickening, “you better be fucking quiet.”

Other option, aka canon Robert: you go with Robert to a screening of his latest film. At the end of the screening, he goes on stage to talk about the film. You stand off to the side, out of view from everyone except for Robert if he were to look to his left. You take the opportunity to unbutton your shirt, letting it fall open. No bra. You stand there nonchalantly, acting as if nothing is off. Robert mentions you in his talk, looking over to you when he does. He freezes when he sees you (literally you can shut this man up in an instant by showing him your tits). Similar to the first option, he flushes, eyes wide, mouth agape as he tries to cover his shock. It takes a minute but he finally rips his eyes off of you, turning back to the audience. It’s a damn good thing that there’s a podium in front of him, because, uh… he has a big problem. Which will be your problem at the end of the night.

Chandler: you see a tall dark stranger roaming around a party you’re at. He looks mysterious and dangerous, making you instantly turned on. You catch him glancing at you every now and then, like a predator salivating over their prey. You go to the back of the room, hidden away in a corner where no one could see you unless they really were trying to find you. Suddenly, the tall dark stranger pushes through the crowd and comes up to you. There’s a moment of silence as you both stare at each other, before you pull your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. Before you can think, his mouth is on you, his hand groping the other breast. The next morning you wake up covered in bite marks.

Manuel: you’re attending a service, the Bishop leading it today. You sit at the back of the room, unusual since you normally are front and center when Manuel is there. He notices this but doesn’t say anything, simply tilting his head in curiosity before starting the service. About midway through, you unbutton the top of your church dress, revealing a white lace bra that leaves very little to the imagination. As if sensing the shift, Manuel pauses, his eyes scanning the crow before landing on you. His throat closes up, mouth going drying as he sees what must be either an angel or temptation from the devil sitting in one of his pews. After the service, you go up to thank him and say goodbye but he asks to speak with you in his quarters. As soon as you enter and the door is locked, Manuel grabs you by your hair, shoving you down to your knees. You gasp in pain, and he takes the chance to shove his tongue in your mouth. “Suck, my lamb, so you may begin your path to forgiveness.”

Harding: FLASHING HIM DURING A 311 OH FUCK HE’D BE CALM AND NO ONE WOULD NOTICE ANYTHING WAS OFF EXCEPT FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULD’VE NOTICED THE SLIGHTEST QUIRK OF HIS LIPS INTO A BRIEF SNARL THEN LATER ON HE CALLS ANOTHER 311 BUT YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS PAGED SO YOU ENTER THE ROOM, THINKING YOU’RE ALONE BUT THEN YOU HEAR THE DOOR AND SEE HARDING APPROACHING YOU AS HE’S SPEAKING LULLING YOU INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY AND THEN HE SAYS SOMETHING THAT TURNS YOUR BLOOD ICE COLD BEFORE RIPPING YOUR CLOTHES OFF AND FUCKING YOU AT THE PODIUM MAKING YOU SAY WHAT YOU DID WRONG AS IF IT WERE AN ACTUAL 311

Harold: you pull the top of your elegant dress down at the gala you’re attending with Harold, letting him see your breasts pop out over the deep crimson fabric. His eyes go wide and cheeks flush pink, unable to take his eyes off of you. He excuses himself from the conversation he was having, going up to you (your breasts now hidden under your dress again) and grabbing you by the bicep. He pulls you out of the banquet hall and into an empty room. Before you can even register what’s happening, Harold’s sweet tongue is in your mouth, his hands both trying to caress you and get the damn dress off. “I’m sorry, my dear, I just can’t wait.”

Oswald: *grabby hands* (literally drops whatever he’s doing and devotes ALL of his attention to your breasts)

#Molina-verse #ricardo morales #otto octavius #doc ock #robert aldrich #manuel aringarosa #harold lindsey-jones #harding Hooten #chandler manning #molina!penguin #ask

[shadowpastry]

I'm back with some new art :). I was inspired by the 80's anime style, and I tried to incorporate it into Cookie Run Art Style. <3

As promised in my last post, I'm here to discuss my headcannons and ideas for the St. Pastry Order and its members. This post will be long, but I'll crop it into sections for easy reading. So Here they are. Let me know what you think.

~~~~~~ Pastry Cookie ~~~~~~

We begin this post with Pastry Cookie, my favorite little traumatized nun cookie. Ever since I downloaded the game back in October of 2021 (I think that was the date I joined during the middle of the Halloween event with Pumpkin Pie Cookie), she was my first cookie, and instantly, she became my favorite. I loved her character. She has a pretty design, and I like her personality. And she has interesting lore. After finishing the story of "TOSC," I couldn't wait for her lore to get updated, so I waited patiently and waited. Now, it's been over two years since her release, and nothing. So now I decided it's time to take things into my own hands since Devsis won't. Here are my assumptions and ideas I made.

While reading her story, it says that Pastry Cookie left her old name and life behind when she joined the order. After thinking long and hard about it, here is what I came up with. I believe her real name is Lavender Cookie because her hair is a lavender purple color, and Cookie Run has not released a cookie with that name; with how well-known Lavender is, you would think they would have made a Lavender cookie already. I believe they are saving it for her. She probably joined the order at a young age, and there are different possibilities for how she joined. The most likely story is that she ran away or abandoned her old life to join the order. I also assume she is probably from the Crème Republic or is of Vanailian descent.

~~~~~~ Shadow Sister Cookie ~~~~~~

If I had to choose Shadow Sister Cookie over Pastry Cookie, I would probably select Shadow Sister. Despite barely getting any screen time, they have captivated me with their mysterious presence. I honestly hope they get more screen time in the future, maybe becoming playable (Please, Devsis, I'm begging 🙏)

Because of our little knowledge of them, I had complete freedom to come up with a backstory. There are so many possibilities their character can take in the story. After coming up with many different backstories, here is my favorite. Unlike Pastry Cookie, who joined the Order, they were raised into the Order for as long as they can remember. They were probably taken in as a baby or a child of one of the members. They were subjected to severe training since they were little to become a top assassin/spy, earning the title Shadow Sister. Also, like Pastry Cookie, Shadow Sister is definitely not their real name, so after researching, I came up with a name for them. Rosehip Cookie, I thought it fit them quite nicely :)

If they ever become playable, which I hope happens. I have an idea of what their role would be. They would be an Epic Ambush Cookie in the middle row. As seen in my previous post, I also headcannon that their weapon is twin daggers (Or another name is Twin Sai) in the shape of a fork. I came up with this because of their role in the story sounding like one of an assassin, with how she hides in the shadows and was ready to "Silence" Pastry Cookie after seeing her having doubts about the order. So, a dagger seems like the best option for their job. Their skill will probably be a mix of Pastry and Chili Peppers. After saying a battle prayer, they would go up behind the opponent and stab them. Like Pastry's skill, it relies on attack speed. The more Atk Spd, the more slashes they do.

~~~~~~ Reverend Mother Cookie ~~~~~~

The first thing I want to say that I see no one else talking about is how they know the location of Dark Enchantress Cookie's Liar? Not even the ancient cookies knew the exact location, yet they knew. How did they discover this information? Why is no one talking about this? Why has Devsis not addressed this yet???

Despite the fandom collectively hating them (Which they somewhat deserve), I don't believe they are as evil as some make them out to be. I am a Reverend Mother Cookie defender, and here are my reasons. We don't know much about them to classify them as a villain fully. Their actions in both The TOSC & Odyssey would make you believe they are, but we don't know the entire reason as to why. I think that, as of right now, they are more morally grey than evil. As for how the storyline is going, there are two paths I see them taking. The first is after learning about their true motive, they become a full-on Villain. After learning more about them, we discover they're not as bad as we think. They may even get a redemption arch.

As for a backstory idea, this is my favorite I came up with. Reverend Mother Cookie wasn't always part of the Order. Like Pastry, she was persuaded into joining. After many years of serving to prove their loyalty, they became well-trusted. Becoming the Revered Mother, we know them as. As for their real name, I came up with Lemon Thyme Cookie. The thyme for their green hair, and the Lemon because I headcannon them with yellow eyes. Like Shadow Sister, I came up with an idea of how they might be released. They would probably be a Super Epic, Support type in the rear position. They would have two primary uses: healing and giving buffs. They would heal the team in bursts like Creampuff while providing an Attack Speed buff to the team. The reason is so they can work together in comps with Pastry, like the Atk Spd Comp.

I will end it here as this post is becoming very long. I will be continuing this in part two, where I will discuss my ideas about the St. Pastry Order, along with a fan event I made for it. If you liked my ideas or have any of your own, let me know, as I would love to hear them.

#crk #crob #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #st pastry order #pastry cookie #shadow sister cookie #reverend mother cookie #fanart #headcanon #fanlore #shadow sister #pastry #artwork #fan idea

[kodocell]

Pygmy mimic's is one of my favorite ideas for dnd pets i've had, im planning on doing some drawings soon of their enclosures!! Ava keeps a fair number of them, many of them rescues she rehabilitates before sending them off their forever homes

[character: Ava-Mae (she/her)]

[ID: on the left is a bust of blue firbolg woman with light blue hair and a green sweater with the text reading 'i just think they're neat!'. There are four mimic's with accompanying text on the right of the page:

A peanut butter jar with small dotted eyes and some tendrils poking out from the cap and beneath the jar, text reads "Peanut-Brittle, Olaithen Dwarf, always disguises as a peanut butter jar no matter the setting.

A red roasting pot with lid ajar and several small tentacles emerging frm it, text reads "Jamba, Olaithen Dwarf, bonded with Peanut Brittle, SASSY".

Stapler with 6 thin legs protruding from the bottom, row of white eyes at the top edge of the stabler and two tendrils drooping down, text reads "Siv, Altrac peeper, changes form frequently, loves being handled"

Green armchair with the left side dropping down into a pile of tentacles fading from green to blue, small dotted eyes at the top middle with small mandibles, text reads "Bobby, Pygmy Oularch, rescued after they got injured by a bird, the most special lad"

/end ID]

#kodo draws #dungeons and dragons character #dungeons and dragons art #dnd art #firbolg #dnd oc #dnd oc art #mimic #dnd mimic #original character #oc art #queer artist #Voira #Collision Campaign #my dnd campaign

[melmac78]

Here’s the complete MASK inspired set:

Top row from left, MASK agents Ace Riker, Alex Sector, Brad Turner, Bruce Sato, Buddy Hawks and Calhoun Burns.

Middle from left, Dusty Hayes, Gloria Baker, Hondo McLean (second outfit). Jacques LaFleur, Julio Lopez and Matt Trakker.

Third - VENOM agents Cliff Dagger and Vanessa Warfield..

Colored glass was the uniforms, dichro dots the mask power interpretations.

Jacques and Matt’s are exceptions here.

Jacque had Miraj [sic] which produced invisibility. I wasn’t happy with the clear glass effect for it in the first try (I wear it as a bracelet center now though) so I chose the style because his mask reminded me of an egg/oval.

Matt’s is his racing gear second season. His original outfit had too much grey in it I couldn’t make it (no grey glass). It is however the only pendant in the collection to be worn in a half marathon (I think too my fastest of the 6, at 3:21:41), which is fitting)

Dusty’s uniform glass is a darker red here than show. That said, his look varied sometimes art wise, and the darker fit the look of the pendant.

Hondo’s … honestly I just found his second outfit a better fit design wise (and - yeah, these really WERE the colors of it. Gotta love the 1980s).

Alex’s power interpretation is near literal - Jackrabbit (flying power) was in the cowl of his mask. The mask is blue.

Bruce’s took a couple of tries with the tan glass (which ironically was CORRECT for the uniform excluding the non-jewel toned colors) because one broke and the other I didn’t like how the “Lifter” (mask power) interpreted.

I think both VENOM ones were easiest to do as “Torch” and “Whip” respectively are easier to interpret. Top down flames fit Dagger’s use of the mask.

VENOM’s dichro is different, and ironic - it’s dichro on black glass. MASK’s is dichro on clear.

I hope you enjoy a look into another favorite show of mine.

#melmac78 observation #fused glass fun

[lesbianwilby]

howdy wil! Answer any or all of these if you want :D

violet— do you like to cook or bake? if so, what is it that you like to make?

azalea— what is the most recent song you listened to? how do you feel about it?

lotus— what is your favorite color and in what shade? e.g. sage green, navy blue, ect. dahlia— do you like to follow current fashion trends or do you have a particular style that you prefer to stick to?

HELLOOOOOOO thank u for adding the questions w ur ask i an in the middle of watching youtube videos n i dont have the brainpower to copy/paste these LMAO (so sory i didn't for u i do not think very well)

violet: i do sometimes!! theres not a lot of food or ingredients n shit in my house n cant rly buy like .any n also massive lack of energy so i cant a lot but i love cooking n baking even if its usually just helping my mom 🫶 im very fond of making things w chicken massive safe food 4 me in many ways

azalea: salamander by deco*27‼️ i adore this song SO much i just have to ignore that its about cup noodles and im good .most recent english song tho would be electioneering by radiohead which!! is actually my current favorite song off of ok computer :3

lotus: this is such a hard question for me to answer bc im so odd w colors 😭 i think?????? probly like a dark brick red.. overall i tend to stick more to color schemes vs specific colors n .all my color schemes tend to center around either red or neutrals so

dahlia: RAHHHHHH FASHION QUESTION so. for me its kinda a mix of both? it REALLY depends on the trend n who i see in it n how accessible it is to me n if i actually LIKE it.. like im not going to sit here n deny that my style has never been influenced by or even changed by trends bc thatd be a goddamn lie but also its not been like. a permanent change ig???? leme like share examples to fully explain

so heres two outfits i wore in 2021, first was sometime in summer second was during october or september probs?? now obviously these aren't like the same exact style but like in my brain n for how i dress they come close enough (also yes i had my hair dyed red two times in a row .no they were not the same shade or anything. btw think in second picture i already had my mullet why didnt i wear my hair up wth was up w that)

these r some more recent outfits!! first one is actually the most recent picture i have of any of my outfits i wore it to a job interview :3 and yes the three others have the same exact top and yes i am wearing the same two pairs of pants in these and yes i did wear both my necklace and pocket watch with them all and yes i did carry the same bag .my style has been toned down a LOT recently tbh n im ngl its def been at least partly influenced by trends.. i dont mind it tho its comfy n cute n i dont have to think much

however sometimes i do still go back to my "old" style that never rly left tbh (in the og pics the only thing i dont have anymore is the skirt n thats bc i dont wear those colors rly anymore).. first one was sometime this summer? second time i think was last month actually!!

n like even still w my toned-back style n shit i still make 3d kandi cuffs n i still listen to music that someone who would see me in passing wouldn't expect n even if these outfits r "tame" bc im way too lazy to go n find pictures from high school (my kandi cuffs used to get worn almost daily + my beloved reflective galaxy platforms have gotten so scuffed from the steps to the front 🫶) they're still pretty different in my mind i think to what i wear now so like .yeah what i wear out has been influenced by whatever trend i see on tiktok however its never been fully based on that 4 many reasons n the old parts of my style never rly "leave" they just get pushed back until a later time

#out there #i still have all of my bows n hair clips that overflow my accessory drawers n my tutus n my t-shirts from hot topic #bc even if its not me rn it was at one point n probs will be again #ngl. i very easily could've explained this both better + w/o these pictures LMAO #i just love showing off my outfits even old ones even tho these r TERRIBLE examples #unfortunately i don't have a lot of older examples bc i used to be rly insecure so i never took pictures EVER #so a lot of those outfits rly got lost to time #do have quite a few more recent outfits tho #including several where i wear my bralettes as tops .man those r cute outfits i love every single one #anyways .rly did use this as an excuse to share some of my (not greatest unfortunately) outfits oops ! #ty for asking that question at least tho 🫡 #ive always been a bit w fashion but it got a lot more extreme during my senior year #cuz yk .2020 tiktok had an impact on me n my style LMFAO #n that slowly ran out probs towards very end of 2021 where i never rly went out anywhere n if i did it was usually a basic outfit #n then .now again kinda following trends ig at least in what i see but to me its just like #ive always thought these styles were cute n now this gives me the push i needed to start wearing them #yk? #i think im rly just saying shit my brain is mush #ive had todays alpharad gold upload just paused on my tv while typing all this LMAK #pls dont judge my outfits too hard 🙏 #ik theyre all kinda copy/paste esp w the items i wear #n to most people on here u wouldn't call any of these n tbh i wouldn't either #but in my defense i have always struggled with very low energy levels SO #done rambling if i forgot something ill edit idfk #ty for the ask again btw :3 #ask #sparksnevadas #also fun fact! on tumblr mobile when answering asks u cant see ur whole tags w/o posting or saving to drafts #so if this seems very incoherent its bc i literally forgot what i just said n had no way to check n tried not to repeat things

[project1939]

(left-right, Top Row- Kay Starr, Wynonie Harris, Rosemary Clooney, Row 2- Big Mama Thornton, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Row 3- Parker and Gillespie, Anita O'Day, The Clovers, Bottom Row- Kitty Wells, T-Bone Walker.)

Overview of Music from Project 1952: 

Favorite female artist: Kay Starr. Her voice, her songs, her swingy vibe... I looove her! 

Favorite male artist: Wynonie Harris. Probably my favorite musical discovery of the project. His voice is spine-tingly good, and his songs are filled to the brim with fun, humor, risqué lyrics, and bounce. I wrote earlier that I smile just when I think of him, and that pretty much sums it up. 

Favorite group: The Clovers. These guys fall pretty much smack in the middle of R&B, with hints of doo-wop in the vocals. And speaking of the vocals, they are bloody perfect. Perfect!  

Biggest surprise: I actually found a lot of music I that I liked! Before the project, I believed that most early 1950s music was the kind of syrupy easy listening pop that I detest. But I found some great swingy jazzy pop, I liked bebop jazz more than I expected, there was some enjoyable country stuff, and best of all, the R&B was fabulous! Most R&B was spilling over the line into early rock and roll, and I couldn’t get enough of it. 

My Top 15 Favorite Songs: (in no particular order, except for numbers 1 and 2) 

“Comes-a-Long-a-Love,” Kay Starr. 

“Keep on Churnin’ (Till the Butter Comes),” Wynonie Harris. 

“Hound Dog,” Big Mama Thornton. 

“One Mint Julip,” The Clovers. 

“Blacksmith Blues,” Ella Mae Morse. 

“Till I Waltz Again with You,” Teresa Brewer. 

“Pedal Pushin’ Papa,” The Dominoes. 

“Blues in the Night,” Rosemary Clooney. 

“Noodlin’ Rag,” Perry Como and the Fontane Sisters. 

“No Soap No Hope Blues,” Anita O’Day. 

“Au bal de la chance,” Edith Piaf. 

“Street Walkin’ Woman,” T-Bone Walker. 

“Blackberry Boogie,” Tennessee Ernie Ford. 

“Rocket 69,” Todd Rhodes. 

“Bloomdido,” Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. 

#project1952 #1952 music #project1952 wrap up