#onward to my one week holiday

[ftmgirlie]

Detrans Resolutions

I was too late for detrans december, so why not detrans 2024!

last update: jan 3, 2024

Let’s see how far we get hehehe

This will be counted until January 31, however, i’ll immediately start when i get home from the holidays ; )

I hope we can get a whole year of fun though!

every note = a day of letting my hair grow out

every 2 notes = groping my tits for 5 mins for a night

every 5 notes = a day of wearing panties

every 10 notes = a week of keeping my pussy shaved

every 15 notes = I won’t bind for five days

every 20 notes = a week I wear clothes that show off my curves

every 25 notes = I’ll fuck my pussy with my thickest dildo every other day for the rest of the game to remind myself of it’s true purpose

every 50 notes = I’ll go outside with a buttplug without panties or any other underwear

every 75 notes = i’ll skip a shot of t

100 notes = I’ll wear feminine perfume for a month

115 notes = i’ll shave my legs

125 notes = i’ll try to induce lactation

150 notes = i’ll wear lipstick for a month

200 notes = i’ll put my full first dead names on my header

250 notes = i have to keep an edge streak of two weeks to come once

300 notes = i have to get my nails painted once a month and keep it on as long as possible

325 notes = i’ll stretch my holes with an expanding toy every week

350 notes = i’ll try double penetration every 20 notes onward

375 notes = i’ll try pills that help with lactation

400 notes = i’ll make an account on a hookup app

450 notes = i’ll stop birth control

500 notes = i’ll have unprotected sex and try to get bred every 100 notes onwards

600 notes = i get a temporary womb tattoo

700 notes = i have to learn how to cum just from my nipples being played with

800 notes = i cant touch my clit without permission anymore

1000 notes = i stop ordering t vials and i can only use the one i have left until it runs out (its less than 5 ml)

1200 notes = i get a permanent womb tattoo

1500 notes = i get my ears pierced and wear feminine/dangly earrings every day

2000 notes = getting my nipples pierced (note: i may have to delay this to induce lactation better)

4000 notes = i get my clit pierced

5500 notes + submit suggestions in my asks/dms if you have any (i’ll most likely add them + i loooove submissions)

5000 notes = i publicly announce my detransition and return to womanhood

spamming encouraged! do your worst!

i’ll be posting an update on the total count of everything on jan 31!

#forced detrans #ftm detrans kink #fakeboy #ftm girl #detrans kink #ftm misgendering #induced lactation #ftm humiliation #ftm forced feminization #ftmtf kink #misgender me #misgenderingkink #detrans resolutions

[chuluoyi]

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐 !

- gojo satoru x reader

valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

genre/warnings. crack, semi-failed love confession (it's gojo, what do you expect?), poor geto, and of course, fluff !!

notes. i genuinely love writing this :') loser gojo has always have a soft spot in my heart *sighs* i'd recommend listening to beautiful & because of you - beast (highlight) for this !!

a part of gojo's love entries and valentine's special !

Satoru doesn't really pay attention to holidays. To him, it's all the same—he can turn everyday into a holiday if he wanted to.

However, Valentine's Day is an exception. He knows it and is somewhat excited even. Why, you ask? Because this is the moment he has chosen. He's going to make you his on that very day.

He had everything planned out to perfection: skylit rooftop, bouquet of roses, eloquent speech (at least, he thought so). He was going to charm the pants out of you and it'd be a smooth-sailing event, he was sure of it!

At least until he heard that life-shattering gossip—

"I saw Geto-san asking her out for the 14th just now!"

"What?" he snapped his head in Haibara's direction, who was eagerly sharing with him and the others what he had allegedly heard, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

"Ehh, not bad," Shoko mused with a hint of amusement, casting a curious look his way. It was obvious she was enjoying this.

Nanami let out a thoughtful hum. "That's quite a surprise. I didn't think they'll go that fast."

"But how?!" Satoru suddenly exploded, grabbing Haibara by the collar. "How did that slimy bangs go from saying nothing to asking her out?!"

"O-oh Gojo-san! Don't squish me, please!"

And from then onwards, his focus was set: preventing you from falling into Suguru's grimy hands. Absolutely no way! He was so close already. He was on the cusp of winning your heart, and he knew it!

Now, you laughed at his jokes, you didn't ignore him as much, and you even asked him if he was okay after his recent mission! That was huge progress, even Satoru knew as much. And no, even if it was Suguru, he refused to hand you over to him.

On the 14th, you were going to be his... even if it cost him everything!

Gojo Satoru is annoying. You supposed you knew that already, but over these past few days, his ability to get on your nerves somehow had ascended to a wholly new level.

"I'm telling you, you should go with me! I'm going to take you somewhere amazing!" he practically demanded right up in your space, prompting you to let out a long-drawn sigh.

By all means, his attempts to woo you were all lame. He didn't know the first thing about being humble, and logically, you should have been more inclined to push him away.

‘Should’ being the operative word, because, somehow, over the past few weeks, you've started to see his antics as not just bearable but even endearing in a way. No one had ever pursued you with such relentless zeal before him, and it became increasingly difficult to overlook the way your heart fluttered in response to his (occasionally dubious) attempts to win you over.

So, right now, it really wasn't because you were playing hard to get. "Gojo, I've told you already. I can't on that day, I've already got plans," you sighed, exasperated.

He shot you a glance, his expression shifting into a brazenly raised eyebrow. "With Suguru?"

"How do you—"

"Tell him no," Satoru pressed, scowling. "Tell him I asked you first."

"In fact, he asked first—"

“Just say no!”

“No!”

"You're seriously going on a date with him?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. "And what, you're going to confess to him too?"

His tone didn't sit well with you, causing your irritation to rise. You frowned and retorted boldly, "And if I do? It's not like you can do anything about it anyway."

Wait, that actually hurts. Satoru was now irked too. Hadn't he shown enough for you to understand just how much of a big deal it was for him? Didn't you know he actually likes you so much that it made him toss and turn on some nights?

(No, you didn't really know. He just made himself look stupid most of the time. You were not that impressed.)

"As a matter of fact, I can," he began, expression turning into a slight sneer. "I can and I will if you still insist on going with him."

"Wha?"

"I'm going to crash your party so hard, you'll wish you hadn't gone behind my back. The audacity he has, trying to steal my girl!"

"You sound like a creep," you couldn't help blurting out, wide-eyed. "And I'm not your girl—"

"You—are quite heartless." His gaze on you behind that glasses hardened, and you were suddenly taken aback by how upset he looked. "I'm giving you my all—I think about you all day and night I think it's actually making me crazy!"

You stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded this time, realizing that somehow or another now, he was pouring his emotions out.

"Nothing I say will make sense to you, but whatever—" he exhaled sharply in frustration. "It's always you—in my mind. Compared to anyone else now, you're the prettiest. And if you were to ask me to pull a Blue on Ichiji right now, I'd probably do it! You see now—what you have done to me?"

"Ichiji? Gojo—!"

"You might think I did all of this for your attention, and yes, you’re right! That's how much you've messed with my head!"

. . .

Oh, now he had really gone and done it, hadn't he? He had laid it all bare, every last bit of it—the chaotic heap stacking up as his botched confession. And there were no roses, no rooftop, and none of the grandeur he had envisioned. This was so not how he wanted it to go at all.

Satoru grimaced, suddenly regretting this turn of events. He had seen it coming already—you calling him a total weirdo and then leaving him in the dust. Just the thought was enough to make his heart squeeze. Wanting to escape before it became a reality, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away from you.

He barely made it a few steps away before he felt a firm tug on his arm.

"Wait! Gojo!"

You grabbed his arm tightly, forcing him to turn towards you. Satoru stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a massive pout. Yet, beyond that display of defiance, you could discern a hint of heartbreak splashed across his face, and it made your stomach churn.

Always trying to make you look at him. Always trying to get you to smile through his lame jokes. Making himself stupid on purpose. Frustrated when his feelings went unnoticed… All Gojo Satoru did thus far finally added up.

So it's true... he likes me this much...?

In that moment, warmth flooded through you. This idiot. Everyone said he was no good, but your heart couldn't help but leap, and a flurry of butterflies seemed to dance in your stomach.

In this instant, everything seemed to fall into place. Any doubt you might have melted away, leaving only a sense of certainty about your feelings. Everything just feels absolutely right.

"I'm not going on a date with Geto, you know."

"Huh?" Upon hearing that, he swiveled to face you, his gaze intensively searching your face for further explanation.

With a huff, you elaborated, "It's for my Grade One promotion mission. Geto-san asked to join me for it."

"But why? He doesn't need to—"

"He wants to tag along to absorb more cursed spirits, you see..."

"Oh, amassing new little friends, I see," Satoru quipped, face scrunching up distastefully.

His mood seems better now, you noted. You exhaled, your heart suddenly felt like it was pounding louder. "So, you've got the wrong idea. It sucks but my Valentine's day is going to be spent on a mission."

A beat passed by before he finally spoke again, still sheepish and avoiding eye contact. "I'm coming with you too, for that... mission or whatever."

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. "And?"

"And... huh?"

"That's all? Nothing else you want to add?"

And suddenly his eyes sparkled back to life. Beyond those ridiculous round glasses, his bright, yet steadfast eyes met yours with such vibrant shine it made your chest thump so hard and face flush with matching intensity.

Silly, silly boy... liking me so much that he turns stupid.

"Actually, I've got plenty more to say!"

With an indignant snort, you released his arm. "Well, I'm waiting. Because what you just said before has to be the most underwhelming confession I've ever heard."

"Wha? Hey! That wasn't my confession! Just you wait, I'll do it over, and this time, I'll make you swoon so hard you'll forget how Suguru's face looks like!"

And on the night of February 14, he truly surpassed himself once again in making a terrible confession, and yet it still signified the day you truly became his—the beginning of your life together, which along the way, would be filled with more shenanigans, endless laughter and of course, love.

Epilogue

"Haibara, I really thought you're the most sensible here! I can't believe you!"

Suguru massaged his temples with utter grievance. So this was the cause of his headache and constant death stares Satoru gave him these past few days—the three people gathering in front of him!

"I've told you already, Nanami—Gojo is really going through with it," Shoko cackled with utter satisfaction. "Now, pay up."

"Ieiri-san... sigh— from now on, I'm not participating in your bets anymore."

Haibara, who went with Shoko's suggestion to incite this, sheepishly laughed. "Ehe, Geto-san, all that ends well is well though, no?"

"Satoru was really about to skin me alive! Ugh, and you almost ruined my date too..."

"Eh? Date?" All three sets of eyes suddenly fixed on him in utter astonishment. "Who?"

-> continue to 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 (with geto suguru—soon!)

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo

[russo-woso]

How could you? Part 2

If you haven’t read part 1, I’d suggest reading it first. It might make it a bit clearer.

It had been years since you last spoke to Alessia.

You’d seen her since, of course.

I mean, with you playing for Chelsea, playing Arsenal was a big match.

But since the divorce, the matches got even more climatic.

Both teams got even more aggressive, your teammates wanting revenge on Alessia for what they did to you, and Alessia’s teammates getting back at your own.

The pitch turned into a boxing ring when it was blue vs red.

But at the same time, you hated playing Arsenal because you had to play against your ex-wife and your current fiancé.

Your current fiancé, Arsenal’s own, Leah Williamson.

You didn’t seem to leave the house after the divorce, only leaving for things you had to, such as training and matches, but when you were invited to a charity event, there was no way you could say no.

And you were glad you didn’t because you met the love of your life that night.

You were aware that other footballers had been invited but you weren’t aware that Arsenal royalty had been invited.

You remember that night so clearly, you don’t think you’ll ever forget it.

After walking the red carpet, you found your assigned seat, next to Leah.

“Oh no, not you. I’m allergic to Chelsea players. I’m gonna die.” Leah exaggerated, clearly joking.

You rolled your eyes at her before responding, “Oh so dramatic. Why are you here as a footballer? You should be with all the actors, Williamson.”

“Yeah and you should be at church praying that we don’t batter you in two weeks.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think it’s me that should be praying.” You said back, a genuine smile resting on your face.

“You look good in red. You should switch to the right side of London.” Leah pointed out, changing the subject. You were wearing a red dress whereas Leah was wearing a suit that hugged her figure.

“Thank you, but I’m a blue through and through and anyway, I wouldn’t go to arsenal. Not when she still plays there. But you look good too.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Alessia.” Leah apologised, her eyes softened as she rested a hand on your back.

“You don’t have to say sorry. You have a past and a future for a reason. She’s my past, I’m just looking for a future now.” You explained to Leah

“Although you’re a blue, You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

“Hmm, have someone in mind?”

“Maybe.” Leah sent a smirk over to you and a blush took over your cheeks.

The night carried on, flirtatious comments and touches from both of you.

It was safe to say that you didn’t end up in your own bed that night.

From that night onwards, Alessia was your past and Leah was your future.

And when you saw Leah more and more, you slowly forgot about Alessia.

Memories you made with Alessia got replaced with memories made with Leah.

The best memory happened two years after the charity event.

Leah took you to Greece on holiday and on the final night, she got down on one knee and made you hers.

————————

“My girls going to England camp today.” Leah mumbled into your temple before pressing a kiss there.

Your eyes flutters open and you smiled at the sight of Leah cuddling you.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the international friendliest coming up.

You had worked so hard over the past couple of months that you knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Leah was by your side as soon as your phone rang.

You got off the phone from Sarina and Leah tackled you into a hug, placing kisses all over your face.

To say she was proud was an understatement.

“I’m nervous about it, Le.” You admitted to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“Why you nervous, pretty girl?” Leah looked at you, concern written on her face. She stroked loose hair out of your face and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough. And seeing less again. I’ll be playing with her this time.” You admitted and Leah cradled you in her arms.

“My girl, you have nothing to worry about. You are such a good player. You’ve scored 9 goals for the c word this season and we’re only half way through the season. And you don’t have to worry about Alessia. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Time to get up?” Leah asked and you replied by cuddling into her chest even more. “I’m taking that as a no.”

————————

As captain, Leah had an advantage when it came to rooming people together.

Normally, couples weren’t allowed to room with each other, but Leah made sure that you and her were together.

You and Leah unpacked your things before heading down to the lobby, hand in hand.

“Here’s the love birds. How have you been Y/N? How’s Leah been treating you?” Kiera asked, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m great, thanks, kie. Leah’s been incredible, like always. How are you? How’s the Spanish weather been treating you?”

“It’s amazing. You can move there, I can put in a good word for you.” Lucy offered, joining the conversation, but Leah was quick to refuse it for you.

“As much as I hate seeing her play in blue, she’s not moving away from me. She’s staying in London.”

“I’ll never move away Le. I’ll never leave.” You giggled at her protectiveness.

“I’ll never leave either.”

You pressed a kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, you turned to face Kiera and Lucy but when their eyes widened, you followed their gaze and saw her standing there.

“Alessia, hi.” You said, awkwardly, panicking a bit but as soon as you felt Leah’s hands squeezing yours, you calmed down.

“Hi. Do you mind if I quickly talk to you? I know you’ve got lots of introductions to do and probably a whole lot of media. And the fact that you probably don’t want to talk to—” Alessia’s voice got quieter the more she rambled on which made a small smile appear on your face. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Less, of course I’ll talk to you.” You said and turned to face Leah, placing a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t be long, baby.”

You followed Alessia round the corner just so you were somewhere a bit more private.

“It’s good to see you, you look good.” Alessia broke the silence that had overtaken you Both.

“Thanks. I am good. How are you?”

“I’m also good. I just…I didn’t want this camp to be awkward between us. I never got the chance to formally apologise. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I know that you’ll probably never forgive me, but I just want to know that you don’t hate me.” Alessia explained her reasons for wanting to talk to you. You could tell she was panicking so you rested a hand on back, gently rubbing it to calm her down.

“Less, I’ll forgive you. I forgave you the day I met Leah. But it doesn’t mean I’ll never forget it. I think me and you, we weren’t meant to be for each other. We got married young. We didn’t have the chance to explore anything. I’ll never forget you and me. You were my first everything so you’ll always have a place in my heart. I could never hate you Alessia. Not even a bit.” You told her, tears starting to stream down her face. “Hey, no crying. It’s all in the past. Come on, say it with me.”

“It’s all in the past.” Alessia and you said together as she let out a laugh and wiped her tears away.

“There we go. Now, no awkwardness between us, okay? You’re my friend, less. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Less smiles and you brought her in for a hug.

“My god, Leah’s scary when she stares into your soul.” Alessia announced as she looked past you and saw Leah starting at the encounter.

You turned around and sent Leah a look, her face immediately softening and a smile was sent your way.

“You broke Leah, you know. Everyone says it. One day she was this woman who always frowned. It’s like she had a curse on her, and then she comes into training and she all smiles. You broke the curse.” Alessia said, and you smiled at Leah who was catching up with Georgia.

“She makes me so happy.” You admitted and Alessia smiled at you.

“I’m glad.”

“How’s you and Cooney-Cross?”

“We’re good. I’m planning on proposing to her next month.” Alessia revealed and you hugged her once more.

“That’s amazing, less. See, this is why we weren’t meant for each other. We both had other people out there for us. Leah’s my happy ever after, and Kyra’s yours. I never thought these words would leave my mouth, but I’m happy for you lessi. I wish you, and Cooney-Cross all the best.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I wish you and Leah all the best too. You deserve someone who treats you with respect and gives you all the happiness in the world. I’m just sorry I didn’t.” Alessia apologised again and you nodded your head, accepting the apology.

“Right, enough apologies. Let’s start fresh. Hi, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You put your hand out and Alessia giggled before shaking it.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Alessia.”

“Nice to meet you, Alessia.”

————————

“How did the conversation with less go?” Leah asked as you laid your head on her chest.

It had been such a hectic afternoon full of introductions, that you didn’t get to catch Leah up on the conversation.

“It’s went perfect. Better than perfect. She apologised, about a million times, I told her that I’d forgiven her. I mean, I did as soon as I saw you at that event. We got talking about you and Kyra. We both agreed that you’re our futures. And we introduced ourselves all over again, as if we’d never met each other before. Alessia will always be my past, you will always be my present and my future.” You explained to Leah and she pressed a kiss to your head.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, le.”

————————

“…You are my present and my future, Leah. I love you so much.” You finished, tears flowing down your cheeks as you stared into Leah’s eyes.

“I may now present you wives. You may kiss the bride.”

Leah leaned in and connected your lips.

The memories built up over the years playing in your head.

When you first met Leah, your first date, your first kiss, when you were able to call Leah’s house yours, when she was down on one knee, and now, when you broke apart from the kiss and Leah knelt down and kissed your stomach.

All your family and friends cheered.

It was your first time announcing the pregnancy.

You wanted to wait until you were 12 weeks, and it just so happened that it fell on your wedding day.

Leah stood back up, a massive smile on her face, and connected your lips once again.

“My future.” You whispered against Leah’s lips, a hand on your small bump, and an identical smile taking over your face.

“I love you, my girl, and my prince or princess.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #alessia russo #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

[rosesloveletters]

all is fair in love.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 10,261

Warnings: sexual content / smut.

Summary: The holidays are Wonka's busiest season and his work keeps him away from reader much more than either of them would like. After hours, the two spend a passionate night together as they both make the necessary arrangements to be attentive to each other's needs and empathetic of the complexity of maintaining a healthy romantic relationship that neither reader nor Wonka are accustomed to.

Author's Note: my smut fics are always between 6-10k haha so enjoy. I edited this the best I could, but for some reason I kept switching between first person and second person pov for reader (I don't know why since I always write in second person pov.) I think I fixed most of it, so if there's any parts I missed, I'm sorry. Also, I'd like to mention that Christmas isn't inherently important to the events in this story. It is used as an element only to convey why Wonka is so busy during this time of year, because most people like to buy chocolate and candy as gifts. I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention. 

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

You’ve always believed that if you truly love someone, then you keep it a secret. 

You would let that feeling freeze me down to the core – to love the way a person is meant to, but it is that same love that, inevitably and irrevocably, suffocates. 

You cannot satisfy that craving the same way one might satisfy a sweet tooth. Once given a taste, it seeps down into your skin, infecting both body and mind, pierces the heart and tears it wide open. 

The thundering beat inside your chest cannot be silenced. The fingertips of fate trace the spider-like, lightning-strike veins that split your heart right down the middle. 

A broken heart takes love like a beating.

It all comes boiling to the surface, bubbling up and out in the breath of a second.

The truth always comes out, one way or another. 

Because if you don’t let the heart have its’ way, then it will tear itself right out of your chest.

***

The days were short, but the hours were long. 

You spent much of your time by yourself, as this season kept Willy preoccupied. Time marched onward and the weeks themselves seemed to drag; it was nearing Christmastime and that meant very little to you in the grand scheme of things, except that you’d be seeing less and less of your lover. 

Traditionally, the holidays were a time of celebration and joy, gifts and laughter shared between friends and families alike. 

However, you lived a nontraditional life now, and Willy had unwittingly shown you that the life of a chocolatier was a solitary one. You knew that the busy holiday season was what pulled him away, but his lack of attentiveness made you wonder…

The only thing that kept these thoughts at bay was the way in which he looked at you when he was around. 

Willy was a difficult man to read. Whether that was intentional or not, were you still trying to determine. The only dead giveaway were his eyes – startlingly intense and piercingly blue – that bore no resemblance to subtlety. 

The vastness of the heavens, it seemed, were contained within those swirling galaxies. On dark nights when the cloud cover was too thick, you traced the constellations in his eyes to guide you into his morning light. 

You could see yourself peeling back the layers of his heart to get to the source of how he truly felt.

Deflect from it all he might – “I’m a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time–” you saw right through him and sometimes that only made him steer clear of you for longer. 

It wasn’t that he did not care for you; it was quite the opposite. Perhaps the extent to which he cared was a bit overwhelming for him at times. He immersed himself in his work during these times, else his mind inevitably carried him to places he would rather not visit. 

Willy Wonka’s mind was not a place any person, sometimes even himself, should ever go without a guide or a distinct way back. 

Though anyone with half a brain could tell that the amazing chocolatier was a troubled man on occasion, his true nature shone through in his creations. Something about this season’s batch of chocolate was a touch sweeter than ones previous. It would go undetected by those who did not have a refined palate, but like the saying goes, a true artist would put their blood, sweat and tears into their work and Willy Wonka was a mastermind. 

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he meant to convey, if only between himself and one other: the world’s most famous chocolatier was in love.

***

You sat on the plush sofa in the personal wing of the factory, a book in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. You were nestled beneath a thick-knit, purple blanket as you read and waited on Willy to return to your den for the night. 

You saw less and less of him the closer it got to the holidays, but such was the nature of his business. Christmastime was one of the busiest seasons and the one in which he made most of his money (the second being Valentine’s Day.) People bought exorbitant amounts of candies and chocolate during the holidays and so Willy was forced to expedite production (though never sacrificing quality) and work long, difficult hours preparing new and exciting treats for the public. In fact, it was no well-kept secret that Willy Wonka unveiled his newest creations around this time of year and that very news was plastered in every newspaper, magazine and bulletin across the world as people anticipated the exciting, brand-new sweets there would be to try. 

You knew the excitement and rush of the season fed into Willy’s own excitement over his work. He was thrilled to be working on new ideas and expressing himself through his creativity and imagination. It meant the world to him and so you did your best to stay out of the way. You did not want to make the situation about you and, after all, he always made it up to you.

 He was aware that his absence bothered you and he tried not to think about the fact that he may or may not be doing irreparable damage to your relationship. 

Not every difficult time or situation was an attack against you. It wasn’t personal, nor was it anyone’s explicit fault. Willy had a factory to run, Oompa-Loompas to manage and ideas to manifest into reality. Sometimes, your relationship would take a backseat and if you were serious about being with him, then you would have to be alright with that and you were, although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt from time to time. 

It would have been nice to relax and enjoy the season with your lover without his work getting in the way. You would have loved to curl up with him, sitting at opposite ends of the couch and enjoying lots of hot chocolate and hours of warm conversation. If you had your pick, you’d gladly have him here with you now, trading the book in your hands for his warm body, his fingers linked perfectly into the spaces between yours. 

You reasoned that this was just how things would have to be for now. No sense in adding more pressure on him by complaining. He was aware of how you felt, but sadly there was nothing to be done about it. You never would have dreamed of asking him to pick between his work and you. That would not have been fair or right. You could handle this, for now, but deep down you missed him terribly. 

Even if you chose to spend time with him inside the factory part of the building, he would be working the whole time. There simply was no time for much of anything else. He did like when you would drop by because you were his faithful little taste-tester. Better to try it out on you before selling it to the masses – that would seem cruel, knowing that his candies have had certain negative effects on people in the past, but rest assured, Willy had never given you anything that might harm you. 

Any candy which made its way to you had been tested and re-tested to perfection before it ever passed between your lips. 

He wanted feedback on his candy before it left the factory and you were more than happy to offer it to him, to which he was enthusiastically grateful. The only problem was, true to inventor fashion, he asked for feedback on everything. He wanted your opinion and was asking for it increasingly often these days. When you didn’t show up to the inventing room on certain days, he’d bring a whole box back to your shared living space and eagerly watch you with anticipation of your positive remarks as you were asked to try every piece. 

He was always so grateful to you for that and, honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked candy and chocolate, so there was no reason you couldn’t afford him this act of kindness.

The only thing you really felt like you were missing was him and it plagued your mind most often while you were alone, which was of course very often. You kept yourself busy and occupied your thoughts with other things as much as you were able, but when you settled in for the night, your loneliness crept in and took up the space beside you that would have otherwise been occupied by your beloved chocolatier.

You didn’t mind your alone time, but too much of it was not ideal. 

Too much of a good thing came with a price and now it seemed you were paying it with interest. 

The sound of a door opening and shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced down at your book to realize you’d just had it propped open against your knees this whole time and hadn’t read a bit. You marked your place and closed it with a huff, setting it down on the end table beside you, your mug of half-drank cocoa with it. 

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall – thank God he hadn’t cut that one in half – showed that it was ten minutes after midnight. 

It did not come as a surprise that Willy was so late. It was only your wildest guess as to what he had been working on, but that point was moot. You did not really care what he was working on. 

That thought seemed harsh and you frowned; no, you were adamantly against resenting him for his work. That path was one you would not let yourself go down, a trap of codependence, you told yourself, but why couldn’t he just be a little more present with you? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask. 

Perhaps you would ask. 

It would make the most sense to be upfront with him about how you were feeling and to be as direct as possible. 

You did not move from the couch. You waited on Willy to come and find you, unlike the many days and nights when you might have greeted him at the door. 

Several quiet moments passed between yourself and your thoughts before Willy entered the room. He had shed his purple coat at the door, as well as his hat and cane, “there you are, my dear,” his gentle tone made your stomach clench as warmth pooled in your abdomen. Even troubled with doubts, you were still delighted to see him.

You watched as he approached and dropped himself on the opposite end of the couch. He nudged your knee with his, silently asking for a bit more space which you politely gave, “I would have been back sooner, but I’ve been so busy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, it is that time of year,” you replied coolly. You didn’t want to jump into the meat of the discussion too soon, otherwise he might take offense where there was none. 

He seemed in a good enough mood that perhaps this would be the perfect time to strike. 

“Yes, my dear, it’s the holiday season which does wonders for my business and I couldn’t be happier.”

His pride in the work he was doing warmed your heart. You listened to him for a while as he recounted what he had been working on that day. 

He cared so much and spoke so passionately, yet your mind began to wander.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

His tender voice captured your attention and you blinked slowly, “yes, I’m fine. But, there is something I would like to talk to you about.” 

His lips hitched into a faint smile, then flattened into a serious line. It bothered you, not being able to read his face.

“There is? Well, you know that you can always talk to me about anything on your mind.”

You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he was already so fully immersed within his work. He needed time and space to focus. He did not need you hindering his creative flow by hanging all over him and demanding more attention. He already gave so much; how could you even dare to think that he owed you more?

“I know you’re busy this time of year, but do you think it would be possible for us to spend a little more time together?” My voice cracked as I added, “I…really miss you, Willy.” 

You hadn’t meant to speak with words that were laced with such pain, but in fairness you did miss him terribly. By the time he made his way to you most nights, you were already in bed or heading there and in the mornings before you’d woken up, he would be gone. It bothered you to not see him and you wanted him to hear it. He needed to know the truth if you meant to be honest with him, you only hoped he’d be able to understand that you didn’t blame him. 

Conversations like this always made you second guess yourself. 

By this point, you realized that he had not responded. He was probably just thinking about what he would say, but usually it didn’t take him this long to reply. 

“Willy?” you gently urged him, reaching out to place your hand on his arm. 

Whenever he felt the gentle graze of your fingertips against the fabric of his shirt, he glanced down, admiring the tender touch with a wistful smile on his face before he looked up at you and the emotion held inside of those ice-blue eyes was almost enough to send you over the edge and into uncontrollable sobs of relief. 

You felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to dissipate. Good, he felt the same way. 

He was still staring at you like there was something more on his mind. That was the way things were with Wonka and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion that it’s a good thing you weren’t a mind reader because there were things that went on inside his head that should stay there. It was better that you didn’t try to trace his Machiavellian ways or make sense of the enigmatic man who so frequently surprised you with small glimpses into how he really thought and viewed the world. It was fun getting to know who he was, but the true wonderment was in not knowing him at all. 

He tested your mind and all your senses, but never pushed your boundaries. He could knock you off your stride in seconds, then act as if nothing had happened. You were playing his little chess game and he was already three or more moves ahead. It had only been a matter of time before you had fallen into his hands like this. 

Things were as they were because Wonka wanted them to be. His quips and wisecracks often went over people’s heads, especially because of how well-versed he was in literature and culture. He could make the whole world fall in love with him at once, then forget him as soon as they were no longer in his presence, but you believed the world adored him much more than he liked to think it did. 

“I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want it to seem like I was being insensitive, since I know you’re not intentionally ignoring me.” 

This statement made him smile for some reason, “where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.” (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

At first, you didn’t know what to say. You had a bit of trouble discerning what he meant sometimes, missing the larger picture for deciding why he chose a specific quote at a specific time. 

Seeming to read your thoughts, he let out a polite chuckle, “This is to say, even in love do the smallest doubts scare you, but when you are afraid of such little things, you are still in love, too.”

His explanation seemed to help, if only for a second. 

It was true that you had your doubts, but those doubts only stemmed from love. That fear which grew inside of you had taken root, but when enough time had passed, it was the love which had bloomed from it. 

Both the fear and love would come with a connection as strong as this one.

In the beginning, Willy had never dreamed of having a romantic partner. His solitary lifestyle simply lacked the means necessary to cultivate a long-term relationship. He had never desired romance or human connection of any kind. He had his factory and the Oompa-Loompas to look after; he was stretched thin as it was.

It was with sickening rapture that he sought the reason for why his heart seemed so content within your hands. He had to know the true meaning behind what he felt, even if he had to wade out in to the wild, dark depths up to his neck. He was barely treading water, sinking still, feet kicking desperately and hands reaching, clawing for purchase but there was nothing for him to grab onto. No way to steady himself as his soul careened toward what he had been running from for so long, a runaway train on the track towards trust and away from self-preservation. 

At first, you wanted to be the one in control. You had your fair share of demons and setting the pace for the relationship yourself was very important to you, but neither of you wanted to go too far too fast. 

You became acclimated to his world quite quickly. 

You just seemed to fit right in and, with time, Wonka found himself closer to you than he had ever been with another person. 

The two of you had been together for quite some time now and the red string of fate binding your hearts together was pulled taut. 

It seemed that you both knew you were in the right hands and the love that grew here was stronger than any fears or doubts which gripped you. 

“What scares me the most is that you’re pulling away from me,” you confessed to him, and that revelation made his eyes widen perceptibly, “sometimes I think you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

The conversation had shifted and Wonka realized that you were no longer just discussing his absence in light of the holidays. There was deeper emotion and meaning laced within what you were saying to him now. 

He was used to being alone, as were you. The only difference was that while you had never lost hope that the right person might come along, he had done everything he could to close himself off. His heart was a precious thing and that was what the world had been after. Yes, he had closed his factory because of theft, but he put his whole heart into his work and, if anyone were to steal his heart, then there would be nothing left for the one whom it belonged to. 

He made sure he guarded his heart all these years, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. It was easier to deny the very fact that love was something every person desires, even ones who have become so layered and complex that it would be difficult to imagine what a true love might look like for them. 

Wonka was not afraid of anything. 

However, if one thing made him apprehensive it was the idea of anyone finding him out. 

Not that there was any chance of that; no one was able to think quite like him. But if anyone came close, that meant he’d cling to them forever, holding on for dear love. 

His gaze shifted down to your hands that were folded in your lap and reached for one. Long, delicate fingers gently wrapping around your right hand as he brought it to his mouth. 

A kiss for each finger, you counted, one two three four five…

Then, his lips made contact with your inner wrist. The sudden and unexpected brush of lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch.

“I promise to be more attentive,” he whispered on your skin, his hot breath tickling the inner area of your wrist, “the only one pulling me anywhere is you and I am only moving forward.” 

“You’ve got to go forwards to go back.”

He had believed that, in more ways than just one, in relation to his factory and to people, but there was no going back now. Even if that were an opinion, he wouldn’t have wanted to.

Within half a second, he dropped your hand and tilted his head, leaned in close and pressed his warm lips to yours in the most sensual, tender kiss your lips had ever known.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like butterfly wings beating against your ribcage, desperate to free itself and get to his. Your soul sought the kind of connection that your mouths were getting and jealousy was an understatement. 

If this was his way of making it up to you, then let it be known that you wanted nothing else for Christmas this year than a clear mind and the taste of your lover left over on your cupid’s bow. 

It was all electric, body and soul alight, glistening brighter than fairy lights strung up for the season. 

He tasted sweeter than his own candy and you smiled into the kiss at the very thought. He ate a lot of his own sweets, if only to test the taste, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sugared kisses, your sweet tooth craving satisfied only by his honeyed lips. 

Somewhere in the haze you found the opportunity to grip handfuls of his tawny tresses, fingers digging into the soft curls that drove your heart mad with desire. You loved his hair and so infrequently did he let you touch or comb it. It was about as unruly as he was, wild, untamed and free, just like the man it belonged to. 

Your gentle tugging on his hair elicited a soft grunt from him and his lips attacked yours more feverishly, taking on a more aggressive quality now that you had accepted and encouraged him. 

There was no rhyme or reason for anything that occurred while you were with him, except what was happening now.

Wonka did everything on a whim. Sleeping, eating, working…no schedule, no routine, no nonsense. 

“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”

Perhaps the most nonsensical thing that had ever happened in Wonka’s factory was your fear that he might leave you. 

Strike that. Don’t reverse it. 

You didn’t want anything to change. There were more twists and turns in this man’s head than there were in his factory and you had lost yourself trying to find your way out. You never left his mind, not once. Even while he worked or spent time alone, you were in his thoughts, whether it was subconscious or not. 

Your own mind didn’t register your movement as you crawled closer and sought out more of his sugary sweetness which was more potent than any nectar of the gods. Your lips devoured his, tasting every inch of the same mouth that poured prose and poetry into your ear each night that you laid with him.

He hummed pleasantly against your lips. His gentle sounds teased you; so rare was it that he ever made a sound during these moments of intimacy. Oh, how you tried, and your futile attempts filled him with great satisfaction. He had more discipline than you ever imagined; living alone for so many years without the warmth of another had taught him to go without, but desperation clung to his bones and manifested through each fervent, heated kiss. 

Willy wouldn’t have described himself as needy, but he appreciated physical intimacy when it occurred and sometimes it was as necessary as any other proper communication. He wanted more than a quick romp; he craved human connection. It was completely unfounded for someone like him to want to share a connection with anyone, but here he was asking for it with his mouth on yours and your reciprocation of that same need meant everything to him. 

You tested the waters, grazing your teeth along his bottom lip to determine how far he might be willing to go. He didn’t stop you. His lips simply parted, allowing entry of your tongue. 

The only sound he made was a little gasp, which you swallowed as your tongue delved in to taste the inside of his mouth. Your hands were still holding the sides of his head, fingers buried deep within his unruly curls. 

He helped maneuver your body closer to his, unabashedly bringing you to sit on his lap. As you settled on top of him, one of his large hands moved down to the small of your back and held you firmly in place. 

You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You had no grasp of how long the two of you continued to kiss like that. The passage of time, though a precious thing, was unimportant in the current moment. The only thing you demanded more of was him and you would greedily take all that he had to offer you. 

You were enchanted by him. He surprised you at every turn and, if it had been anyone else, you’d have questioned where you stood with them, but wasn’t that the point? The less anyone knew about Willy Wonka, the more exciting it felt to be in his presence. 

It was impossible to know whether the things he revealed about himself were true or not and there was beauty in that alone. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, then he had the upper hand here.

You did not stop to see why his hand had suddenly been removed from your back, but any questions you might’ve wished to voice were answered when you noticed him reaching for one of the top buttons on his vest. 

The steady progression of events had led you here and you were too immersed within the moment to stop him, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. You were entranced, enthralled, enraptured by the whole of him and his heart belonged to yours. 

The wet graze of your tongue against his cupid’s bow spurred him further, lips tangled tantalizingly with yours as his fingers worked open the buttons on his vest. 

The threshold had been breached. 

The moment was yours for the taking, if you wanted it and you knew that you did. 

Lost somewhere between drunk on lust and in love, you began to help him unbutton, starting at the bottom of his vest and continuing until your hands met in the middle of his chest. You followed this same pattern for both rows of buttons.

Coincidentally, this journey ended right above his heart, but another one was merely beginning. 

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you looked up to notice him already gazing at you lovingly. A tender smile curved his lips like a crescent moon and the sunlight bleeding out through the cracks in your soul made the stars in his eyes sparkle. 

You cupped his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss onto the bridge of his nose. His arms encircled you, holding you flush against him and his shirtsleeves rode up on his forearms, exposing just a fraction of skin with a fine dusting of sand-colored hair. 

You let him hold you to him as his lips attached to your neck. You imagined when he pulled back that there would be an imprint of lips, a tattoo of his love painted across your collarbone, signifying that you belonged to him alone. 

You tilted your head to give him better access and he thanked you by delivering a loving nip to the column of your neck. 

You hadn’t forgotten your intention. 

With hands still shaking, you reached for his vest and pulled it open. His lips detached from your neck in an instant and long, elegant fingers wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you from undressing him. 

His eyes were crystalline pools of skylight, airy and substantially quantified by the depths within them. They had a mirror-like quality and you could see yourself reflected in them as you held his gaze for a heartbeat too long. 

“Only if…this is something that we both want…”

Willy’s words of brevity filled you with wonder. 

“If I’m being honest with you, Willy…I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than I want you now.” 

That single sentence melded with and fused into his soul. In a breath-to-breath admission of consent, your words had tied his tongue with cursive letters. 

He breathed a sigh of relief and held within that exhale was his own consent. You had granted him permission, assuring him that you were not offering yourself out of obligation or for complacency’s sake and that thrilled him perhaps as much as the act itself would. He felt the blood rush to his groin and he moved beneath you, shifting your body weight more onto his thigh. 

Willy nuzzled your cheek, dragging his nose along your soft skin. His arms had yet to unravel themselves from around you; he wanted to take his time. However, he was increasingly aware of his own sense of desperation. It had been some time since he had last gotten into bed with a lover. 

Actually, the last time he had gotten into bed with anyone was with you. 

Willy had a low sex drive, but on occasion it would crop up and remind him that he was, in fact, human and had needs, whether it was simple biology or heightened by the desire to connect with the one he loved. 

Whenever he thought of a lover and what had previously been just some nameless face at the forefront of his mind, that vision was now you. Yours was the love he sought; your hands were the ones meant to hold his heart. 

He let go of you and shrugged off his vest. 

Your lips captured his once again and he imagined this was what dreams tasted like. 

He went to stand up and you quickly took the hint and moved off his lap. He got up and began unbuttoning his white undershirt while you watched. He could see the fire burning in your irises, your pupils dilated with desire as you watched his delicate fingers pop open each button. 

You knew better than to rush him; a treat as sweet as him was meant to be savored. 

You took this opportunity to slip your own shirt off your body. With your skin exposed, his eyes traveled across your midsection and his fingers hesitated, fumbling the button he was on. His breath hitched and you swore you heard him whisper the word “beautiful” as he gazed upon you. 

Once he had recovered, the swiftness with which he finished removing his undershirt made your head spin. In his haste, he had forgotten to remove his bow tie and unbutton his sleeve cuffs, which made you giggle. He seemed flustered, his cheeks reddening once he realized, and perhaps this was the first time you had ever witnessed him with a blush on his cheeks. 

You reached out to help him and a soft chuckle dripped from his lips like maple syrup, “It would appear I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself, my dear.”

You chuckled as well as his bow tie and undershirt were removed, “well, I’ll take it as a compliment…that you seem so eager to have me.”

Your words were spoken as if in jest, but his response was anything but. 

“Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love,” he quoted, his smooth baritone steeping you in the tea of his desire. (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

It was enough to quiet your mind and when he said it, you felt your entire world get a little smaller. Your heightened senses had inflated your soul and carried you to the clouds. You were a runaway balloon stuck in a tree and his words were the hand that enclosed around your string. You had seen vast lands and known love in its many forms, but never until this moment had you felt so much in the presence of one. 

His heart knew yours better than it knew itself and the cracks left by heartbreak were filled in by your endless love for each other. 

You moved in to kiss him again and his hands cupped your warm cheeks. His breath tasted as sweet as the chocolate he made, which only made sense because of how often you saw him sampling it. He kept a bit in his coat that he’d pull out and nibble upon and often would you go sifting through his pockets for little treasures and treats that he had left over. Sometimes you found such delights that it had to have been no accident that they had been left behind. No, he knew your guilty pleasure was his chocolate and he made sure to satisfy your cravings, both for chocolate and for him, as often as possible.

Your tongue slipped inside his mouth and he finally graced your ears with a very delicate moan. 

His hands moved down the length of your arms to finally grab your hips. He pulled you in, your pelvis against his, and you could feel the hard press of his bulge against your thigh. 

While you kissed, he began to walk you backwards toward your shared bedroom. 

You could not have torn your lips apart to look where you were going even if you wanted to. 

You trusted him to get you there safely, perhaps more than you had ever trusted another person or at least you hadn’t trusted anyone this deeply in a very long time. Too many others had taken a hammer to your jawbreaker heart and smashed it to more manageably sized pieces, but once broken, it could never be put back together without its’ once-pristine surface now marred with jagged cracks. 

At least the breakage let the light of your soul pour out into his hands…

Willy was stained by your brokenness, his heart bruised the color of your trauma. 

He had been burned before, broken in a very real way, and therefore it was never a question of if you would trust him, but how much and when. He knew how long it could take a person to truly open up if they wanted to, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity and then some. 

Time stood still and Willy had the presence of mind to remember how it felt to cradle your body to his when the only things that cemented your souls was an equal share of trust and love for one another and the mutual decision to take just one more chance. 

You sighed with relief when the backs of your knees connected with the mattress. 

Willy didn’t push you or press for more. His lips left yours in favor of your neck and several chaste yet sweet kisses were left along your collar bone as if his lips were asking for permission without the accompaniment of words. 

 In between you, you reached for his belt. 

He felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers and a gentle smirk crossed his features, “after something, are we?” 

His coy response made the tips of your ears get hot and you huffed, “well, it isn’t my fault that I’ve gone and gotten all excited…”

“I hope you’re not implying that it’s mine,” he replied as his smirk widened. 

“I wasn’t implying anything,” your time spent with him had sharpened your wit, “I’m saying it.”

His eyes shared in your mirth, twinkling with laughter at your response. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you in. With his cheek to yours, lips near your ear, he whispered, “shall we make use of your excitement, then, dear?”

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he spoke to you, the dulcet undertones of his honeyed voice pierced you like a knife through the delicate flesh of an orange. You wanted to sink your fingers into his heart and peel it apart to devour the pieces, sustaining yourself on his love. 

You nodded and he deemed it appropriate to continue. He gently pushed your hands from his belt and took on the task himself. He pulled it from the loops and laid it on the chair nearest to him. 

When he turned back to you, you were already removing your pants. He smiled to himself, stopping in his tracks to admire you as you undressed. He almost wanted to help you, but held himself back. Mutual trust came at a price and he would not want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. You had not explicitly told him not to help, but you hadn’t told him to do it either and so he decided it was best to let you indicate what you wanted from him and how comfortable you were with the situation. 

Neither you nor he were particularly trusting individuals. Your experiences with people who took advantage of others made you wary and skeptical, through no fault of your own. Maturity and wisdom came with age and while you had both grown and learned, you had built walls around yourselves both figuratively and literally, in Wonka’s case, to guard your hearts and protect them. 

Now, you were bearing your souls to each other.

It was an unlikely thing, but you were both ready. You had known Wonka for a long time now and you had no doubt that you and he were meant to be in each other’s lives. There was a reason that you were here. Even though you might have needed a bit of reassurance from time to time, it was never because you truly thought he might leave you. Giving word to that unreasonable fear set you free, because in your heart of hearts you realized that you were not afraid at all. 

You were lonely.

You had forced it down for years, but acknowledging it now was cathartic, because never again would you find yourself isolated like you had so many years before. 

Willy was no stranger to isolation either. Though he had reasons other than your own, he empathized. 

It was difficult, at times, for the two of you to find a rhythm. Both of you had been alone for so long that it took time to become acclimated to sharing your lives with each other, but in this moment you both knew that there was no person you would each rather share a life with than each other. 

Willy was never at risk of pulling away. He was simply learning how to love you. 

As soon as you pushed off your pants and stepped out of them, he was kissing you again. In a flourish of limbs and bare skin, you fell backwards onto the mattress with him. His hot lips descended over yours as his fingers linked into the spaces between your own. In all ways except for one, your two bodies were unified and, if either of you could help it, that would soon be remedied. 

The mattress dipped and shifted beneath your shared weight as Willy crawled on top of you. You held his hands for as long as you were capable of doing before you needed to feel him more solidly at your fingertips. You dropped his hand, grabbed his shoulder and dug in your nails to hear him hiss into your ear and nip at your neck. 

He couldn’t even finish undressing because you demanded every ounce of his attention. 

Your spirits were engaged in this battle of carnality and you had consumed him, corrupted his mind and possessed him body and soul, but all’s fair in love and war, both of which you had waged fervently on his senses. 

At risk of ruining the moment, he pulled away and got up to finish removing his trousers. Your chest heaved as you took a moment to catch your breath, propping yourself up on one arm. 

“And here I thought…we were just getting to the good part,” I quipped. A teasing smile bloomed on my face as he turned to look down at me. 

“And I thought you liked my kisses,” He replied without missing a beat. 

His lopsided grin made you giggle, but the sound of his zipper being pulled down tore your attention away from the witty banter. The fire of fierce need had begun to burn bright inside your belly once again after being extinguished to mere embers only seconds ago. 

You watched him kick off his trousers and make no move to pick them up.

He moved back down onto the bed and leaned into you. You met him halfway and pecked a chaste kiss onto his lips. Your bodies fit together like two immaculately chiseled sculptures whose delicate features appeared to be made of something much softer than stone. 

You knew what he wanted from you now and you felt goosebumps rising on your flesh as you anticipated his caress. 

He cupped your head, holding you to him as he lowered you back against the pillows. He liked to take charge of this part himself and you let him, despite the anxiety you felt at relinquishing control over yourself. You didn’t like feeling out of control, especially of your body and Willy knew this. He tried his best to make you feel comfortable and safe, never moving forward without verbal consent. 

“Shall I touch you, dear?” 

You reflected on his question before you nodded, swallowing thickly before you could make a sound, “yes.” 

You knew that he would check in with you frequently to make certain you still wished to continue. 

With your consent, his fingertips grazed the length of your arms. His warm touch sent pleasant shivers through you and you fought the urge to arch into him. He had a way of making you feel everything he wanted you to feel with just one touch. It was like magic, the control he had over your body and sometimes you wondered if his creative abilities branched into other realms as well. 

His hands slid down your sides, massaging your warm skin and admiring your supple curves, the angles and indentations of your hips. Before he traveled lower, Willy wanted to devote some appreciation to the rest of your body first. His hands moved to your back, working underneath you to swiftly unclip your bra. He had a way of doing things so fast that you barely had time to register what he was doing before it was done. Perhaps it didn’t seem possible, but impossibility did not exist where Willy Wonka came from; if there was a way to do the impossible, he had already figured it out and told no one. 

With your unclasped bra no longer pulled taut, he delicately pushed the straps off your shoulders and plucked the hindersome piece of fabric away from your chest. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor and his blue eyes glittered with mischief when he looked upon your exposed breasts. 

You wanted to cover them, but he held your arms at your sides. True to the creative genius he was, he had to admire beauty where and when he saw it and you were a masterpiece. His tight smile had relaxed as he gazed down at you beneath him and he practically cooed with appreciation for your form. 

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered heatedly, like it was almost difficult for him to get the words out. He was overwhelmed with all his attention focused on the body before him. 

You wanted to thank him for the compliment, but all that came out was a soft squeak. 

He chuckled at your little sound and bent his head. He placed a firm kiss on your left breast and you sighed in pleasure at the gentle touch of his plush lips on your pillowy skin. His lips traced the curves of your breasts before encircling one of your nipples, suckling lightly as if it were a piece of candy. 

You mewled and arched into his mouth, desiring more from him and as quickly as possible, but Willy liked to take his time with you. He never left you unsatisfied, but you could expect nothing to be fast paced. 

His fingers wrapped around your hips to hold you in place as he moved to your other breast and did the same thing. His hot tongue teased your candy pieces to hardness and he hummed his appreciation, sending waves of pleasure down to your core. 

You squirmed in his grasp and whimpered pathetically, “please, Willy,” you begged him, “I want you now.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have me, dear,” he reassured you, his thumbs rubbing placatingly against your hips, “when I’m ready for you to.” 

His teasing remark made you huff in irritation until his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your cotton panties and paused you in your tracks. 

You whined as his fingers barely breached the fabric barrier before he removed them. His hands moved to your inner thighs and spread your legs apart for him to nestle in between them. 

All you could do was watch as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your navel, just below your belly button. His kisses traveled lower and lower down your pelvis to your pubic bone and finally to your core. You writhed in pleasure when his mouth found its way to where you wanted it, but your panties were still in the way and you groaned with frustration. 

Heat emanated from your core due to your arousal and the crotch of your panties were damp with your wetness. 

Your head dropped back against the pillow as he used the tip of his nose to brush lightly against your clit through your panties. 

You were so pliant to his will and responsive to his touch that he almost felt powerful. If it had been anyone other than him, he would have, but all he felt in this moment was an overwhelming feeling of love. The fact that he could give you a comfortable experience of vulnerability and pleasure perhaps did enflame his ego a bit, but he loved you even more for it. To see you enjoying yourself because of him was almost too much for him to handle and he could feel his cock swell to attention. 

He placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to the crotch of your panties before he dragged them down your legs. He would have liked to tease you more, but he was already beginning to lose patience and he didn’t want to rush through too quickly. 

With your panties removed, he could admire your glistening folds and the sweet juices that had dribbled out of you. His mouth watered as he delved in for a taste, his tongue tentatively flickering against your opening. 

You let out a cry and bucked your hips, desperate for him to fill you. You needed friction and fullness to achieve release and Willy knew you couldn’t get either of those things without his compliance. He smirked at that and lowered his head between your thighs. 

Your hot core pulsed as more of your honey leaked onto his tongue. He moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste of your sweetness and the delicious sounds you were making for him. He had never tasted anything this sweet except for his chocolate and if he could have only one of those two things right now he would have picked you without a second thought. 

It was almost too much for him to pull his mouth away, but he knew that he must if he were to indulge in the ultimate act of pleasure with you. You both wanted that more than you wanted air to breathe. A greater craving than candy, your existing love and soul connection a stronger aphrodisiac than chocolate. 

With a final flick of his tongue against your clit, he dragged his mouth off you. You whimpered at the loss, but in the back of your lust-flavored cotton candy mind you knew that your shared night of pleasure was just beginning. 

He got off the bed again and opened the nightstand drawer. He withdrew a small tinfoil packet and a small clear bottle of lubricant. 

You were still sprawled out on the mattress, your hair a halo around your head. The darkened room made it difficult to see what he was doing, but your eyes had adjusted enough for you to see movement.  

You felt eyes on you and before you glanced up from the object he was holding, his voice broke the silence, “are you comfortable continuing?”

Driven by lust and lover’s greed, you nodded your consent. Willy did not respond at first, waiting on your actual acknowledgement and proper agreement. Your voice was shaky as you replied to him, but you knew what you wanted and were certain in your response, “yes. I want this. I want you, Willy.”

The sincerity in your voice convinced him and he tore open the condom wrapper. 

Excitement thrilled you and coursed through your veins, carried into your heart by blood. Your body was singing with sensation as you wanted nothing more than his solid body atop you, his hard length buried in your tight heat. 

You watched him with barely-concealed enthusiasm – well, perhaps the only concealment was from the darkness in the bedroom – as he took off his underwear and rolled the condom on. He then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock. 

You could hear him jerking himself off and the obscenely slick sounds from the generous amount of lube. He had yet to give himself any physical stimulation up until this point and you were eager to repay the favor. 

In the dark, your reached for him and he came to you, ready to meld together and fill you full of himself. 

He positioned himself on top and guided your legs around his hips. He propped himself up with one forearm flat against the mattress so that he wouldn’t rest his entire body weight on you and the other guided his condom-covered tip to your entrance. 

He gave your forehead a tender kiss as he pressed in. Your lips parted at your sharp intake of breath and your muscles tightened and seized around him. Willy kissed your face, calming you and keeping you still and relaxed until he bottomed out. 

He nuzzled against your cheek and moved his free arm behind you to cradle your head. 

You tilted your head back and captured his lips. The two of you kissed lazily for several moments as your bodies adjusted to one another. Your walls twitched around his cock, sending jolts of electricity down to his toes, into the pit of his stomach and behind his eyes. Everything felt fuzzy and seemed out of focus except for you. 

The one thing that was clear to him was his love for you and the appreciation he had for you being a part of his life. If he could not trust a single soul with his legacy, he knew that he could trust you with himself and that was more than enough. 

For once, nothing made you question Willy Wonka; his intentions were clear.

Your fears were just that: fear. It was irrational and based on nothing of consequence. However, the very fact that you were afraid let you and he both know how much you cared. 

You would never take Willy, and he would never take you, for granted. 

He would reassure you that though he was not used to sharing his world with another, that you were his world now and you would share in every aspect with him and reap the rewards of a unique and whimsical life with perhaps the greatest chocolatier who ever lived. 

Take out all the fantasy and spectacle and you were left with only love and imagination. 

All these people thought the most fantastical thing about Willy Wonka were his creations, but what took your breath away, and had since the beginning, was the man behind those creations.

 You had fallen in love with him as much as you had with his brain and his intellect, his body, his soul. You wanted to dip your fingers into him like if he were made of melted chocolate. You would lick the essence of his existence off your fingertips to taste his candy-coated soul and sugared thoughts. There were not many candies or chocolates of the Wonka brand that you hadn’t tried, but none were sweeter than the man himself. 

If he existed only in your mind, then your mind was alive with the thought of him. 

All too soon, your thoughts abandoned you as you felt him begin to move. 

He slowly pulled out, angled his hips and pushed back in. 

The sudden movement jarred your body and you clung to him tighter. 

As he began to set a pace, you rolled your hips down onto him each time that he pushed in. This seemed to please him, witnessing you thrusting with him, your bodies moving in unison toward a shared release and reciprocation of pleasure. 

He grunted softly in your ear with the effort of thrusting into you. His soft curls tickled your cheek and you bit back a giggle. A particularly rough thrust ripped the sound from your throat and you laughed aloud. 

His brows furrowed in amusement at your laughter, but he grinned with you nonetheless. 

His thrusts became harsher, deepening as you adjusted and conformed to the rhythm and pace he set that was creating a delicious friction between your legs. You moaned shamelessly into his ear and he thrusted harder, encouraged by the sinful sounds you were making. 

Willy kissed you, his lips feverishly moved against yours as he held you in his embrace and your skin blazed with red hot fervor. A thin sheen of sweat clung to your bodies and you could feel the heat rolled off him in waves. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but it didn’t bother you as you kissed him harder, demanding more intensity out of your shared intimacy. Your core pulsed, muscles gripping and clenching tightly around his cock. 

Your moans began to take on a higher pitch the closer you got to your release. Willy could tell that you were close now and he was eager to send you over the edge. Sex was, at least for him, about mutual enjoyment and gratification, not domination, exploitation or manipulation. It was about individuals who loved each other enough to put aside their individuality and become one, just for a moment of bliss. 

His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusted into you harder than before, his pace becoming erratic the closer he came to his own release. 

As he panted, you felt his breath fan across your face and he smelled of chocolate.

You balanced on the edge of oblivion as your feverish coupling would soon send you into orgasm. 

After a few more hard thrusts, Willy slipped a hand between your legs and gently rubbed your clit. Your release seized you, your body shaking violently with hurricane force winds of equal parts pleasure and zest. It was as if the air had been knocked out of you and you were falling down into his waiting arms. Ecstasy radiated from your core, carried in waves throughout your body. 

You were alone with your pleasure, waiting on your lover to join you in the afterglow. 

You cried out his name as he thrusted into you through your orgasm. He lasted several moments after you came before he released, filling the condom with several hot bursts of his seed. 

He had just enough strength left in his body to pull out and collapse beside you. His harsh panting soon turned to gentle sighs as his heartrate decreased and his body cooled. His strawberry blonde curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and were sticking out at wild angles except for the top which was always a bit flattened from the way he wore his hat. 

You reached out and petted his frizzy hair, your fingers delicately massaging his scalp. He let out a quiet little moan and you smiled at him. 

With a deep inhale, he sat up and peeled the sticky condom off his softening prick. He tied it up and tossed it in the wastebin, then snatched his underwear off the ground. He picked yours up as well and handed them to you for you to slip on. 

You got off the bed and put your panties back on, then crossed the room to the bathroom. A few moments later, when you returned after you had cleaned yourself up, you found him lying in bed waiting for you. 

He smiled at you as you approached and extended an arm out to let you curl into his side as you got back on the bed with him. He already had a blanket laid out to pull across your nude bodies so that you could cuddle in modesty and without getting a chill. 

He looked down to watch you settle in and you met his gaze for a moment, appreciating his features. His gorgeous blue eyes were like pools of galaxy speckled with stars. His aquiline nose, which most people thought was too big for his face, looked proportionate in your opinion and beautiful just the same. He had the softest features of any man you had ever seen, slightly chubby cheeks, a round face and curved jawline. He was exquisite in every sense of the word and just looking at him made you fall more deeply in love. 

As attractive as he was to you, his personality spoke to yours in a language only the two of you spoke fluently. 

His appreciation for literature and culture was unique and inspiring and, because it tied in with your own, you learned a lot from each other. His quick wit and casual snide remarks that often passed over other people’s heads made you laugh as though you were enjoying your own little joke with each other.  

During your private appreciation for this man, you concluded that you had no reason to ever think he might be pulling away from you. 

In surreal Willy Wonka fashion, he seemed to read your thoughts as he finally spoke, “I’d like to see you in the Inventing Room with me tomorrow. I want you to be as involved with the holiday busy season as I am.” 

He addressed your insecurities by offering a solution to the problem and your heart felt a bit lighter. He wanted you to be involved in his work so that you didn’t feel so isolated or lonely. He had promised to be more attentive and he intended to do just that, but you could offer him aid and visit him while he worked. True love was buoyed by compromise; you’d see to it that you did your part to keep your relationship strong. 

“Forgive me for not being as attentive as I should be,” he continued, “I’ve been so busy, not to excuse myself.”

“I understand,” you replied. 

He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he half-expected you to still be upset, “and it isn’t entirely your fault. I should come around more if I’m missing you. We’ll find a solution. We have time.” Willy put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could kiss your head, “time is a precious thing, my dear. Never waste it.”

Between his words, you heard what he was not saying. 

And while he had a point, what you did have was now. 

You could agree just to exist for a moment, sharing in the silence of the universe and listening to nothing but your dreams and the sounds of your hearts. 

You would fall into each other the same way that you fell in love: accidentally and achingly slow. 

One day you would both look up and see how far you had come, but for now, you still had a way to go. 

You knew his heart belonged to yours and that was enough to keep trying. Once the busy season calmed down and you had more time to focus on the two of you, you would ease into it like lovers were meant to, but right now you had an obligation to yourselves not to let the fear of failure drive you apart. 

It might seem fatalistic to ruin a relationship before it had run its course, but you’d seen it happen and the last thing you wanted was for that to be yours. 

You knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen. 

Your love was as strong as your imaginations were wild and no mind would ever dare dream the two of you apart. 

#willy Wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

[fairytale-poll]

WINNER ANNOUNCEMENT POST!!!!!!!

Before I get into the winners, I want to thank everyone who participated in Cinderpoll!!! Everyone who wrote propaganda, who sent asks and wrote comments in the reblogs, even if you just voted thank you for making Cinderpoll as fun as it was! It couldn't have happened without you <3

Now, onward to the winners!!!

The first congratulations will be to the winner of the Mod's Choice poll: Hatsune Miku from Various Songs!!! The Mod's Choice poll is less popular than the main tournament or the loser's bracket, but it's important to me, so it's on here. Here's to Miku Miku!!!

(Technically the Mod's Choice poll is still open at the time this announcement is made, but it looks like she's winning and it's almost done and if it changes I'll edit this post)

The next congratulations is a bigger one. It's the winner of the loser's bracket, Brandy as Cinderella in the 1997 adaptation of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella!!! Many thought she was done dirty when she lost in Round 1 of the main tournament, so I'm glad she was able to take this reward at least. You know what they always say, it's possible! :) Congratulations Brandy as Cinderella, you defined a generation!

Now we're onto the winners of the main tournament.

We have the two bronze place winners. In 3rd place, we have two popular characters-- one of which I feel as though very few expected to get here. That one was of course Mofurun as Mofurella from Mahou Tsukai Pretty Cure! But that cute little teddy bear, who I have been told is transgender, did it! She made it to the podium through the power of being a cute teddy bear! The other 3rd place winner is Missy Piggy as Lady Holiday from The Great Muppet Caper. The beautiful and talented diva herself, is it no surprise that she made it this far? Honestly, if she was here, she'd probably karate chop me not for giving her the gold (and that's why we love her). Congrats bronze medalists :)

Here is the big one! The runner-up!

It is none other than Cinders from Once Upon a Time (in Space) by The Mechanisms. Cinders had a lot of energy going into the tournament, as she was the second-most submitted character and another Once Upon a Time (in Space) character got runner-up in the last tournament, and she defeated some other big names in the tournament including Cinderella from Into the Woods and Linh Cinder from The Lunar Chronicles (who was the most submitted character). Her fans were passionate and campaigned for her fiercely, and with that, she landed all the way up to the runner-up!!! A very high honor indeed, congratulations Cinders!!! Not bad for a character who doesn't have any official art of her.

There is one character, however, that managed to drum up even more support than Cinders from Once Upon a Time (in Space).

The gold medalist, the winner of Cinderpoll, Tumblr's certified favorite Cinderella, and the unofficial official best Cinderella--

CONGRATULATIONS TO ELLA OF FRELL FROM ELLA ENCHANTED!!!!

I am more than pleased, as Ella of Frell was one of my favorite (if not THE favorite Cinderella in the tournament), and I am so glad that so many other people loved this book. Honestly didn't expect her to make it this far, much less win! I encourage all of you to read it if you enjoy reading! :) Good job Ella, you deserved the gold!!!

Once again thank you everyone for a great poll! I'll start submissions for the next one sometime in the next week.

#cinderpoll #winner #hatsune miku #vocaloid #brandy #cinderella #rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella 1997 #rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella #miss piggy #lady holiday #the great muppet caper #the muppets #mofurun #mofurella #mahou tsukai prettty cure #cinders #once upon a time in space #the mechanisms #ella enchanted #gail carson levine #fairytale #poll tournament #tournament winners #long post

[hezzabeth]

Everyone who lived on Baker Street had come out from the fog to eat Nanni’s dinner. This made perfect sense; Nanni was one of the few people in the park who knew how to cook meals using ingredients and an oven.

When the park was still open, Revati's home was a coffee shop called the “Mad Hatter Teaparty.” The walls were painted in eye-watering clashing shades of neon pink and green. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were all giant velvet top hats. The booths were giant flower teacups with tiny chairs and tables inside.

"Was there some sort of drug in the pineapple?" Revati heard Brigadeiro ask. Revati just ignored him and instead walked past each of the booths, collecting tributes; nobody ate Nanni’s for free.

The Paprikas sat in the blue and gold teacup, their neon orange hair clashing with the paint. The Paprikas were two brothers and their sister who had found themselves trapped in the park as children. Their parents had been vaporized by a towel-warming rack. Now they were in their mid-twenties and worked for Revati as hired muscle for free dinners.

"Who's the new guy? He's actually clean and good-looking," the youngest brother Brie asked Revati. "His name is Brigadeiro Bun; he's an off-world tourist who stupidly went to the wasteland," Revati said. "I was trying to find crystal roses," Brigadeiro smiled helpfully.

"Bridgadeiro huh? So your parents were Goup worshippers then?" The sister, Juniper, asked curiously. Revati vaguely knew that Goupism was a popular religion on other colonies. Over a thousand years ago, there was once a woman who apparently traveled the earth gathering the best health practices needed to be “happy.” "A white woman, and she stole most of her ideas from our eastern religions," Amma, who was a staunch atheist, had snapped with annoyance when Revati asked her to explain the Paprika siblings' religion. Still, despite her thievery, at some point, she had become a god. They firmly believed in things such as “psychic vampires” and “color-balancing therapy.” They also all had peculiar food-related names, mainly because the goddess had named her daughter Apple.

"Yes, they were. They insisted on coming here for a Wellness Day holiday," the eldest brother, Croquette, growled. "I miss mama's Wellness Day Avocado and chocolate cookies," Juniper sighed sadly. "It's not the same, but here I have a couple of factory-made ones in my pocket," Brigadeiro said, crawling into the booth. The Paprika siblings gasped with astonishment as he pulled a packet of cookies wrapped in gold paper out of his jumpsuit's gigantic pocket. "They got a bit crushed when I was kidnapped, but they're still good," he said, opening the package and placing it on the table. The Paprika siblings stared at the cookies, their mouths slack with shock. Croquette slowly shook his head, completely snatched the package, and began to serve the crushed crumbs amongst his siblings. "You need to keep this one forever," Juniper said firmly, and Revati just shook her head, moving onto the next table.

The next table consisted of the elderly Gupta couple. "You adopted another kid? If you want more water for him, we want more dried apples," Mrs. Gupta said, a small scowl on her wizened face. It was Mr. Gupta who had figured out how to gather and purify water from the atmosphere. It was Mrs. Gupta who managed and recorded all the water they collected, rolling it out like a tyrannical dictator. "Fine, one extra package of dried apples per week," Revati said before swishing grandly onwards.

Amma was sitting in the pink cup, her new partner Dusk Brisbane. Dusk Brisbane was a teacher from Titan, who, along with their students on a field trip, found themselves stuck in the park. Like all people from Titan, Dusk had inherited the ability to rapidly change biological genders. Titan had also inherited a name that meant a time of day and a gender. Dusk’s remaining students were sitting with Dityaa on a large cat-shaped sofa. When the invasion began, there were twenty-three of them. Now there were only five nineteen-year-olds left. Dityaa was holding court over all of them, sitting on a couch shaped like a giant grinning beast. "Your sister said you had an interesting night," Amma remarked as Revati sat down next to her. Nanni had laid out a plate of aloo mushroom curry. Revati picked up a piece of hardtack and dipped it into the sauce, refusing to talk. "So you're not even going to bother telling your side of the story?" Amma asked as Revati swallowed. Nanni always moaned that her cooking was so much better before the war. Years ago, Nanni worked in the city as a professional meal prepper for wealthy families that wanted to eat real organic food.

Nanni was proud of her ability to create one hundred percent sand-free meals using the most exotic ingredients. Nanni would bemoan to everyone that her meals were now a mess, that her spices were too basic, and that she never had enough salt. Revati, however, who had never tried anything else, thought her food was delicious. "I'm hungry! Besides, what's the point in telling my side? I'm sure Dityaa's story was more enthralling," Revati replied. "Every story needs both sides and the truth," Dusk remarked. As they spoke, their features shifted from a feminine middle-aged woman's face to a man's face with a beard. "You're not my creative writing teacher, and you're not my parent," Revati pointed out.

Revati knew deep down she didn’t dislike Dusk; Dusk was a perfectly decent person. Not to mention Amma had been so lonely until Dusk offered to help her teach the feral children a year ago. Still, it was a lot to get used to.

“True, but your mother did ask you a question, and I think she deserves an answer," Dusk replied in that same mild diplomatic voice. Revati deliberately ate another mouthful of curry before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. "Dityaa got attacked by some lady at the ball; the chutiya had A.I. eye implants! They must have switched on somehow," Revati explained. "Mind your mouth, Revati! There will be no swearing at the dinner table," Amma scolded her. "Her implants switched on? That's so odd; one of my students had AI tastebuds, but they stopped working the second we walked into the park," Dusk remarked, their face shifting back into a woman's as they glanced at one of their students. The student in question, Basil Paris, was sitting next to Dityaa, licking their hand. Dusk was right; in order to create true "historical authenticity," the park was surrounded by massive mirrors. The volcanic Martian glass blocked the "AI" life stream. "And what did you do?" Amma asked in a quiet, nervous voice. "I threw a glass of vodka at her face, and her eyes fried up," Revati replied.

"Can you take the children's sign language lesson tomorrow morning? I need to check the mirrors around the walls," Amma said to Dusk.

"Of course," Dusk replied, and Revati rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to do anything, Amma! I'm the elected leader of Baker Street! This is my job," Revati said firmly.

"You're only seventeen!" Amma protested.

"Almost everyone voted for me! Well, apart from Mrs. Gupta, who voted for herself," Revati said, and mother sighed.

"Fine! But you're not going to leave well after the sun rises, and you're not taking Cora and Laila! You can take Vivienne and Jay Jr.," Mother replied firmly.

Nine minutes past midnight.

Revati's eyes snapped open in the blue-glowing darkness. Slowly, she sat up, taking in the familiar shapes of the kitchen's walk-in freezer. Dityaa was sleeping next to her on the souvenir pillows Amma had sewn together into a makeshift bed. In the corner, the feral children slept together in a nest made of old soft toys. Nanni was snoring on one of the plastic shelves that had long ago stored ice cream. Amma insisted on them all sleeping behind the massive metal doors. To anyone who lived near any other planet, it would have been freezing, but Martians had evolved to withstand the cold.

Revati stood up and glanced down at Dityaa. Dityaa had worn her new dress to bed, ignoring the stains. The blood on her dress looked shiny black, her face shadowy blue. She looked just like Princess Savitri in the family book of fairy tales. Revati, on the other hand, had changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a long-sleeved men's shirt three sizes too big. The red fabric hung to her knees, and the words "Olde Landon Halloweenfest 3544" had been printed across the front. Revati picked up her blanket, draping it around her shoulders. Sleep wasn't going to return any time soon. Revati reached underneath her part of the mattress until she found the stories.

Outside the metal doors, Revati could hear distant voices, and carefully she slid the door open. Amma and Dusk were sitting together on the cat-shaped couch, murmuring to each other over tea.

"I don't see how they could know..." Amma began, and then she trailed off, spotting Revati.

"Insomnia again?" She asked gently, and Revati nodded, walking past the two of them.

"If you're going up to the greenhouse, be quiet; I made a bed for the boy up there," Mother replied.

"Really, Amma? You couldn't give him a bed?" Revati asked, opening the front door.

"He would freeze in the fridge, and he said he liked plants," Mother replied.

Outside, the fog was still shifting, and Revati moved ten spaces to the right.

"Evening, boss," Juniper's voice called, and she suddenly appeared holding a jar filled with glowing mushrooms.

"Any problems?" Revati asked.

"Nope, it's been a pretty quiet night!" Juniper said.

"Good, make sure your brother takes over your shift! We don't want you fainting from sleep deprivation again," Revati replied.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #regency core #art #science fiction #life on mars #fantasy #speculative worldbuilding #winter wonderland #winter

[captaingrebelguf]

Dark Baptism

Okey dokey! We're here again. Back to fuel the two-person fandom-beast created by the incredible: @copiousloverofcopia. <3

Ren, you deserve this because of doing that thing that you did for me. Thank you, my sweet. xoxoxo

Mrs. Prime Mover Sister Alessandra borrowed from Prime Mover Ren and her series, Tied as One Eternally. Please read. It's life changing. And Ren is the best. Anything you click on written by her will instantly make your day better and leave you beyond flustered.

Oh yeah, some minor NSFW themes below. And a happy Imbolc to those who celly. Onwards!

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

Okay, so awhile, awhile back……

“Come on, hustle, hustle!” Liz encouraged Alé as they squeezed through groups of excited, chattering siblings.

“Liz, we don’t need to be weird about it! It’s okay if I miss out on this sign up!” Alessandra griped as her wrist was limply strung along by her dearest friend. 

After being at the Ministry for almost a year, Alessandra had admitted she was ready to have her previous faith washed away and be born again as a Child of Lucifer. Unfortunately, these types of baptisms were held quite irregularly (as it depended on the interest from the novices). So when Alessandra had overheard Sibling Margeaux mentioning a few other newcomers gaining interest, she knew she had to jump on it. She was ready to commit her life to the Ministry, her new chosen family, and The Dark One.

Elizabet continued to drag Alé along to their destination: Primo coming hot off the pulpit. The oldest of the Emeritus brothers was coming down the steps to greet a few siblings vying for his attention after his sermon today. 

Today, Primo had preached about the upcoming Imbolc holiday; he spoke about how the weeks ahead would be addressing the proper ways to prepare, purify, and heal in this life as the first of February drew near. He closed with reminding the masses before him in the pews that the more popular holiday, Lupercalia, followed closely behind and as always the Clergy would be putting on the regular shenanigans. 

“Papa!” Liz called out, waving down Primo.

Primo gave the young women a soft smile as he motioned them in, “Sister Elizabet, Sister Alessandra, unblessed be.”

“Beautiful sermon today, Papa,” Liz beamed, Alessandra agreeing beside her. Liz grabbed Alé’s arm and nudged her to Primo, “Papa, we were hoping to catch you in regards to the upcoming unbaptisms; Alé wants in! So how does she sign up? “

“Thanks, mom,” Alé gave an unamused glare to her friend, being perfectly able to speak for herself as needed.

“Is this right, Sister Alessandra? You’re wanting to cast off your former affiliations and join us for good, eh?” Primo gave her a wink as he held out his gloved hand for her. Primo had taken a shine to this girl; he had been complimenting her addition to their sect for months now. 

Alé clung to his hand, nodding and looking deep into his mismatched eyes, “It is, Papa. I’ve already dedicated my life to Satan, but this feels right. It’s what I need to do. I’d be honored to have you absolve me of my past indoctrinations-- if there’s still room...” 

“Nonsense, Sorella, it would be my onore,” Primo beamed, his old eyes shining, “I will remember to add you to my list and Brother Garrett, who is coordinating this for us, will reach out to you with further instructions next week.”

“Thank you so much, Papa, this truly means everything to me,” Alé expressed her gratitude. Out of the corner of her eye, she finally caught sight of him: Primo’s terror of a brother. Alé could see the younger of Primo’s two attending cardinals sitting in the center pew with his legs obnoxiously stretched out and arms casually draped over the back of the bench.

Terzo was turned from her slightly, coolly chatting up a Brother of Sin he caught the attention of behind him. Terzo’s gloved fingers toyed with one of the gold buttons on his stark, black cassock laying everything he had on this poor soul. Alessandra couldn’t hear their conversation, but the playboy must have said something ridiculous because the blonde man he spoke to was doubled over, waving him off. Terzo looked beyond amused; a large cheeky grin took over his expression as he tucked a stray piece of hair back into its place. Alé couldn’t help but frown watching the disgusting display.

Alessandra quickly averted her eyes back to Primo, “Papa, it feels silly to ask, but can you promise it’ll be you performing my unbaptism? I really feel… the most comfortable with you.”

“My child, I may be getting a little aged, and I may not have many more February dips in my near future, but I can promise you unless our Dark Lord Satanas speaks against it, I shall be there to welcome you back into our arms from their lies.”

“And your cardinals can't do baptisms, is that right?" Alé pressed, looking for a little more solid confirmation. From her peripheral, she could see Cardinal Terzo motioning out the doors as he proceeded to stand and shake out his cassock. He gave a wink to the enamored Brother of Sin as he began to make his leave from the chapel. The Brother followed closely behind him. 

Primo placed his hands on Alé’s shoulders, speaking directly to her while regaining her attention, “Dolcezza, sÌ, my fratellinos are able to absolve a being from their previous religions as matured cardinals now. But, nothing would happen to make me miss out on your liberation." 

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

A few weeks later…

Terzo closed his eyes as he listened to the thrum of his lover’s heart. Omega’s tail still wrapped around Terzo’s thigh, the smell of their sweat still heavy in the air. The large ghoul tipped Terzo’s chin up to gently nip at the Cardinal’s jawline, teasing his claws down Terzo's chest earning a small moan from his lover.

“Amore,” Terzo sighed breathlessly, rubbing his hands through his hair in his post-orgasmic haze, “Don't think this means I want anything to change, but I have to tell you: I probably won't be able to sit on my ass for the rest of the week… “

Omega snorted against Terzo’s hair, “Didn't hear you complaining just a little bit ago."

“No, and you won't! I'm happy, I'm just a little red. And sore. Bruised..." the smaller man lamented, arms and legs still tangled around the ashen-colored, muscled limbs of his partner. 

The ghoul continued to breath softly, a subdued purr coming from deep in his chest. He took the hand of his human lover and brushed his calloused fingers over the future Papa’s deep maroon nail polish. The Quintessential ghoul nuzzled his face against Terzo’s palm.  

Terzo closed his eyes, biting his lip as he wiggled up to lock lips with Omega. Terzo felt his skin flush as his cock weakly kicked back to life; Omega could smell the instant change as he licked his own lips. 

“On your knees, Cardinal," Omega grunted out as he began to rise above the clergyman. He felt his heavy cock start to twitch again as the animalistic urge to breed his partner rose from deep down in his gut. 

"Anything for you, caro mio,” Terzo purred, rolling himself onto his stomach and pressing up to position himself on his hands and knees before the large ghoul; his reddened ass presented to the ghoul on full display. Omega smirked at the large hand-sized welts left all over his lover. Terzo loved walking around with hickeys, bruises, marks, anything souvenirs to remind him of his lovers; Omega was always more than happy to oblige and frequently went above and beyond. Terzo dipped down to encourage Omega to grab at his hips, when he caught a fleeting glance of the alarm clock on the side table. Terzo felt a boulder drop to the pit of his stomach as all the color drained from his face. 

“Oh fuck! Cazzo, merde, ass, shit!" Terzo exclaimed as he threw himself from the bed. His leg got caught up in the expensive woven sheets as he tumbled face first into the ground, "Shitty, ass, shit! Cazzo!“

“Where in the hell do you think you're going!?" Omega growled, his nose wrinkling back as he snarled at his partner. He crawled toward the smaller man, watching as Terzo agonizingly tore through the heap of clothes they made on the floor as he tried to smooth down his tangled mess of hair. 

“Primo was feeling unwell last night and was debating if he should proceed with the ehh…  dunking activities today," Terzo quickly attempted to mime as he tried to shake the debris off his wrinkled, black slacks, "Secondo and I agreed to pick up his duties today if he was still sickly. And I was supposed to meet with them roughly 45 minutes ago to discuss who is doing what.”

Omega’s frown melted into a soft smirk, man would absolutely lose his head if it wasn't already attached. Terzo whipped on the pair of dressy, violet socks with a secret message on the bottoms that suggested the reader to go give themselves a happy ending. Terzo threw his cassock over his head and finished redoing the buttons on his chest, promising he'd make this and more up to his beloved ghoul a little later. The two shared one more passionate kiss before Terzo ran out of the bedroom, barely closing the door to Omega’s room, as he began to sprint down the hall.

“Stronzino!" A deep voice shouted from his left..

Terzo stopped dead in his tracks, spinning in his heel to face his older-ish brother, he gave Secondo a grimace and a small guilty wave, “Hi." 

“Don't you fucking ‘hi’ me. Do you know how long we foolishly waited thinking you would actually show up?"

Terzo pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head down to receive his verbal punishment; audibly sighing as Cardinal Secondo continued to berate him. 

"And now we're already late,” Secondo turned and began storming away from his younger brother, "I'll just do everything myself. Primo will deal with you later.”

"Don't be that way,” Terzo begged, trailing closely behind the balding cardinal, grabbing at his brother’s sleeve. Secondo slapped away his younger brother’s hands.

"What were you doing? Or dare I ask who?” he glowered at his brother from the corner of his eye as the two descended down the Ministry's main stairwell. 

Terzo gave his brother a guilty grin and shrugged it off, waving his delicate, gloved hand at him, "Non importa.”

“Coglione, I'm becoming awfully tired of your bullshit. You better not still be pulling this when you're acting as my Cardinal, or I swear to Lucifer-"

“Yes, yes, yes," the shorter ministry official agreed, cutting him off, “I know your feelings. I'm aware! You’ve made yourself very clear. Don't get off track. Come sta Primo?"

“Potrebbe essere morto, per quanto ti importa!"

Terzo rolled his eyes as he tried to not let his brother's crotchety mood damper his spirits. The two continued out the doors and down the path to the ministry’s private access to a body of water. Terzo patted his pockets down, lifting up his cassock to access his cognac-brown, cigarette case in his pants. He quickly opened the pouch and nudged at his brother again. Secondo whipped around to glare down at his brother, hovering nearly an entire foot over him.

“Peace offering," Terzo explained, motioning at the new import of Sicilian cigarillos he had pulled a few strings for. He wasn't above getting on his knees to get what he really wanted. 

Secondo stopped in his tracks to gently pluck a cigarette. He tossed it between his lips and cocked an eyebrow at his brother as he sarcastically mimicked a lighter. Terzo sighed as he stashed away the leather case and returned with a novelty lighter adorned with breasts. 

“In Satanas’ name… " Second began to chide, not sure whether to be proud or disappointed in his brother's taste in torches. Terzo held the open flame up for his brother to light up; he tutted his tongue as he removed the lighter and tossed it back into his pocket. 

“Don't judge how I do shit and I won't judge the piss poor life choices you make, cocca di papà," Terzo teased, before Secondo began the descent again.

Secondo stared vacantly ahead, choosing to focus on the calm water instead of the overwhelming urge to slap the shit out of his incompetent younger brother. Secondo aggressively motioned towards the water, before passing the cigarillo to Terzo, “You want to do this shit or do I have to?"

The two stood side by side in front of the small man-made lake (really a pond) made years ago; it was there before Terzo and Secondo had been relocated to this sect. Many rituals had been performed on these shores, the magickal aspects of the water used in many many spells in their youth. Many warm, summer nights had also been spent disrobed with their own respective partners in the lake. Terzo inhaled the smoke before pushing it out of his nostrils, “I don't do cold."

“As future Papa-'' Secondo began lecturing, pointing a finger between Terzo’s eyes. 

Terzo uncrossed his eyes as he batted away the finger, “Fine! Sasso, carta, forbici?"

Secondo grabbed the cigarillo back taking a few seconds to inhale, before casually flicking ash at his brother. He tossed the cigarette back between his lips as he held his hands out at the ready to win, “Bene." 

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

Brother Garrett hurriedly made his way down to where the two brothers were seated side-by-side on a log near the shore. Terzo and Secondo seemed engrossed in their own discussions as they passed the small remainder of a cigarillo back and forth, murmuring to each other. 

“Cardinals?” Garrett called out, alerting them of his presence. Terzo turned over his shoulder and gave the sibling a wave, before turning back to his “older” brother and finishing his train of thought.

"I do think it would be a brilliant idea. You're just jealous you don't have the charisma to pull it off.”

“I'm warning you: neither Imperator or Nihil would find the charm in a kazoo," Secondo waved his brother off, chuckling as he rose to his feet before changing the topic, “Good morning, Brother Garrett.”

“Good morning, Cardinal Secondo, Cardinal Terzo. I was just finishing meeting with Papa to go over the last minute additions to today. It appears we have seven siblings all looking to be unbaptized today. Did we decide who will be performing their ceremonies?” Garrett cheerfully smiled at the two dark-haired men.

“Secondo lost fair and square,” Terzo teased, pleased he wouldn’t have to go into the pond. He still couldn’t help but be nosy, as he held out his hand for the clipboard nestled in Garret’s arm, “Per favore, may I see the list?”

Garrett turned to Secondo, preparing him for how the morning would pan out and going over other small, last minute details. Terzo skimmed the names of siblings, making mental ‘tick’ marks behind the ones who had accompanied him back to his quarters at one point or another. He couldn’t help but feel a tasteless sense of pride, thinking he was the reason all these siblings would want to convert to their side.

Terzo’s breath hitched as he looked at the final name written in Primo’s beautiful calligraphy, before speaking up, “Garrett, is this the final list?”

Garrett quickly nodded to Terzo before focusing back to debriefing Secondo.

Terzo continued to stare at the name before interrupting again, “Secondo, you need to trade me.”

“Sei un rompicoglioni. Stronzo, what are you going on about now? Quit interrupting!” Secondo hissed, squeezing his eyes shut asking himself silently, how they were related.

“I need you to trade me spots. I’ll do the baptisms and you can do confessional later,” Terzo hurriedly explained, excessively flailing his hands around to emphasize his point.

“I thought fair is fair?” Secondo evilly smiled at him, crossing his arms.

Terzo sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just switch with me.”

Secondo glared at Terzo, not quite sure what he was up to.

“Secondo, per favore.”

“Qualsiasi,” Secondo gave in, rolling his eyes, confused, but nonetheless thrilled he wouldn’t have to go into the water.

“Oh! Fantastico!” Terzo exclaimed, throwing his arms around his stoic brother, who stiffened at his touch, “Grazie mille! Sono elettrizzato!”

Terzo couldn’t contain his enthusiasm as he planted a loud kiss on his brother’s cheek. Secondo indignantly tossed off his brother before wiping away Terzo’s black lipstick

“I’m going to go change!” Terzo yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted back towards the ministry’s ground.

“He’s going to be late…” Garrett whispered, begging Secondo to do something.

Secondo defeatedly shook his head, watching his brother fade out of view, “There’s no reasoning with that one.”

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

The two brothers politely greeted the siblings on Primo’s list as they approached them at the shore. Terzo seemed to grow antsier with each sibling he welcomed, continuously searching. Terzo, the Leo he was, had changed into a stark white vest and slacks with a pale lilac, twill dress shirt underneath. His look was completed with dark Ray Bans tucked behind his ears and bare feet with his manicured toenails painted fuschia.

“What are you looking for?” Secondo grumbled, annoyed with his brother’s lack of attention span.

“No one, I’m just eager to get this over with,” Terzo lied, shutting out his brother’s nagging. He began to check his pockets, removing his sunglasses, lighter, and smokes for safekeeping with Secondo.

Ten minutes into the allotted start time, she appeared to him. She was a vision in her white, lace-trimmed gown and her dark curls bouncing wildly. Her friend was close on her trail as the two women continued at break-neck speed to the meeting spot.

Terzo felt the world slow down and the only soundtrack was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Sister Alessandra was without a doubt one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. Her strong, well-vocalized disdain for Terzo only made him want her more.

“Oh, ho, ho! Look who showed up!” Terzo gave her a disgustingly excited smile as he opened his arms for her. He could see her winded expression drop flat off her face as she stared at him in shock.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Alé hissed quietly to Liz as they slowly walked to Secondo’s side, away from Terzo. Alé brushed her fingers through her hair as she began to weave her locks into a braid, so it’d be a little more manageable in the water.

As Brother Garrett began to welcome the group and explain how the morning was going to go, Terzo, not one to shy away from awkward situations (or at least giving an attempt to make them even more uncomfortable for the other party), casually walked to the other side of his brother to stand by Alé. He gave her another warm smile and a wink as he nodded his head to her, “Sister Alessandra.”

“Cardinal.”

“How are yo--”

“Where is Primo?” Alé cut him off, not wanting to waste any energy on this trash.

“He’s fallen sick,” Terzo answered her, trying not to dwell on his own hurt feelings, “He’s starting to feel better, but there’s no way we will allow him to do anything outside; especially in this swamp. So Cardinal Secondo and I were called in as replacements to basically Ghostbust the Christ out of you all.”

Alessandra turned her back to Terzo and dug her nails into Liz’s arm, she lowered her voice so Terzo wouldn’t eavesdrop, “I’m not doing this.”

“Oh come on!” Liz groaned, “Just get it over with! You said something in your gut told you to do this, so what does it matter who does it?!”

“I know, but I already feel off about this and I’m not letting him touch me.”

Terzo leaned over to the two ladies angrily whispering at each other and also added in a hushed tone, “I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you think.”

“I do not need your input; also quit spying on me!” Alé hissed back at him, “How do I request Cardinal Secondo to perform my unbaptism?”

“You don’t,” Terzo sneered at her, “We already rock, paper, scissored it. Decision is final, Sorella. And clearly I came out on top.”

He gave her another toothy smile as his eyes took her in from head to toe. Alessandra wanted to puke in her mouth. This man was such a waste of her time. The more she learned about him, the more confident she was in her analysis: he was a slut and a moron.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Alé glared at him, crossing her arms, and attempting to shut him out.

Terzo chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back, “Denial is not just a river in--”

“--and Cardinal Terzo, with that, we’re ready when you are,” Brother Garrett interrupted the future Papa with an oblivious smile.

Terzo masked his annoyance and gave Alessandra another wink, “We shall continue this. See you in a minute, dolce.”

Alé felt her stomach churn as she watched the walking headache give the rest of the group a big smile as he took the hand of the first sibling and escorted them out into the chilly water. 

She should have run.

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

All the other six siblings that had chosen to be religiously freed today had beautiful, private unbaptisms with the future Papa. One-by-one, Terzo had taken them out into the frigid pond and released them from their prior torment in such an intimate ceremony. No one could hear his words from the shores; odd for the usually boisterous man. 

From watching his face, you could tell he was taking this very seriously. Alessandra had thought a few times she saw him tear up as the sibling thanked him profusely after he had drenched them. Maybe she had judged him too harshly at their first encounter. He may have a few general character flaws, but seeing him like this had Alé reconsidering a lot. Plus he did look even more handsome in white. The classic dark eye makeup around his eyes, his upper lip crispy painted black, framed by his shaggy locks, Alé’s eyes darted to the floor as she noticed Terzo watching her and giving her a mischievous smile. 

“Pronta, Sorella?” Cardinal Terzo held out his hand for her, still grinning. His crisp white slacks were beyond waterlogged and his purple boxers could be seen from miles away. He might as well not even be wearing pants. Alé’s eyes dropped to his chest; a delicate golden Grucifix peered out from his unbuttoned cotton shirt. She felt her breath hitch as she finally took in his chest hair; her eyes began to wander again along his exposed arms, swearing she could see tattoo ink coming from under the cuffs of his shirt. As outgoing as Terzo was, he did keep his own life rather private. Other than the ongoing rumors of how well-endowed he was and his unmatchable stamina, Alé realized she hadn’t heard much else about this mysterious, cocky bastard. As far as she was concerned, his only hobbies were cream pies and sucking dick in the confession booths. 

Alé frowned and hesitated before going against her gut and taking the man’s hand. He was surprisingly warm, despite his damp hand. She almost considered moving closer to steal more of his body heat. Terzo gave her a gentle, comforting squeeze as they began to head deeper into the water. 

“It’s actually quite cold… I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long,” Alé spoke softly, making nervous, but polite conversation with the religious figure head.

“Eh. Cold yes; only thing I have to gripe about right now is the fantastic shrinkage I’m experiencing right now. Just don’t look down too long for it, I promise I do have a lot more going on than what you can see,” Terzo rambled on, trying not to chuckle at the horrified look on Alé’s face.

“You’re a pig,” Alé gasped, halting in her steps, stopping Terzo with her. She shook her hand to free herself from his touch, as if he were a disease, “I don't think I want to do this anymore." 

“Oh, come now,” Terzo chided, trying to gently encourage her onwards, “I was merely teasing, Sorella! I’ll tone it down.”

“I cannot believe that out of all the Ministry officials who could be doing this, I’m stuck here with you!” Alessandra glared at him, starting to lose her patience. The freezing water was doing no favors.

“Stuck with me?!” Terzo feigned horror, “You should be so lucky, Sorella!”

“Can we just get this over with?” Alé crossed her arms. She shouldn’t have let Liz talk her into doing this with the younger cardinal. She should have waited for Primo. She should have ran screaming as soon as she saw Terzo’s devilish smirk, “I thought this day was going to be a lot more meaningful, but this is clearly just a joke to you. I bet you’re going to dazzle them as Papa.”

“Huh.. I apologize, I took this maybe too far; we can fix this,” Terzo spoke a little more seriously than what Alessandra was expecting from him, “Pronta?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” Alé affirmatively nodded her head, glad he seemed to have moved onto business, still weary he might pull something again. She couldn't let her guard down around him. 

Terzo gently cleared his throat before speaking so only the two of them could hear, “Welcome, Sister Alessandra. Today, you and I gather to embark on a journey of healing from the wounds of a religious trauma. The undoing of a dedication to a religion you did not consent to. A reversal of spiritual decisions you made without clarity, reclaiming your personal power and finding solace within. Are you ready to proceed? “Yes,” Alé whispered in a hushed tone, finding herself unable to look away from his gaze; she let her arms uncross and fall to her sides.

“This act represents the release of the harmful teachings and reclamation of your own truth. Release the pain and wounds caused by religious trauma. Reclaim your power and define your own path. You are no longer bound by the chains of religious trauma. Embrace your strength, reliance, and the beauty of your unique journey,” Terzo prayed over her.

The butterflies in Alessandra’s stomach were out of control. Her heart was racing. She wanted to get closer to him. She could hear each purposeful breath he took between sentences. She could see his pupils dilate wide as he made unwavering eye contact with her; unable to look away from his Satan-given eye. She could smell his cologne overwhelming her senses. She felt her heart skip a few beats as she reached out for the dark clergyman and he firmly grasped her hand in return. With the warmth and energy that surged between them as they entwined their fingers, she could have sworn there were electrical currents in the tiny pond.

“Sister Alessandra, take a moment to reflect on your newfound freedom and the inner strength that resides within you. Today, we have taken a significant step towards healing from your religious trauma. As you move forward, remember,” Terzo paused for a second, finding himself unable to look anywhere but into her hazel eyes. He tried to shake himself from his trance as he continued, softening his tone, taking time to enunciate his words, “You are deserving of love, acceptance, and the freedom to shape your own path. May this ritual serve as a reminder of your own resilience and the power of reclaiming your own truth!” 

Alessandra looked deeply into his eyes as they shared a soft smile. It was only them in the world at that moment. A shepherd and his newly found lamb. Alé leaned into Terzo as he respectfully wrapped his arm around her waist, she felt at ease letting him handle her so intimately. 

“All bonds of servitude have been broken. Power and agency have been restored. Thyself is thy master. Hail Satan!” Terzo grinned as he felt Alé’s suddenly shoulders sag and a heavy, invisible burden seemed to remove itself from her. She stared at him wordlessly, seemingly hypnotized. Terzo cleared his throat, “You ready for a dip, sis?”

“No funny business,” Alessandra whispered, eyes pleading to him. She couldn’t help but look at his soft lips, failing to use every ounce of strength inside her to avoid thinking about kissing him.

“None,” Terzo crossed his heart, “Unless you have also felt the encouragement from The Dark One here with us and are also so inclined for another kiss…”

Alessandra stiffened against his touch, shaking herself out of this trance. What the actual hell was wrong with this man? And how was he also feeling this!? Did this lech hex her!? Alessandra shoved his arm off from around her waist as she stabbed a threatening finger into his chest, “I promise, I will drown you here in front of your family and followers. Don’t tempt me. Keep your hands off me.”

“You keep saying that, but how am I supposed to complete your upbaptism if I can’t touch you?” Terzo grinned cheekily, cocking his weight to one hip, as he laughed at her.

Alé huffed and rubbed her face in annoyance, “You are so unbelievably annoying.”

“Signora, I am a man of the cloth, I have a little more restraint than you seem to give me credit for!”

“Oh because the bullshit you pulled at Yule was you showing restraint?!” she scoffed, hesitant to go back to the dark-haired man.

Ave Satanas. What a spitfire, he thought to himself. Terzo itched at his chin before offering Alé his hand again, losing patience, freezing to the bone, and wishing to just get this over with. Alessandra took his hand and walked into his embrace again as she let him begin to gently lower her backwards into the water. One arm still around her waist and the other firmly clasped to hers, with her hands clinging to him for dear life. 

Terzo paused as he looked down at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her full lips and dark, feathered eyelashes. Her gorgeous raven hair tied off to the side in an extravagant braid as the February sun bounced off the gold flecks in her eyes. He should have stopped there, but his eyes couldn’t stop wandering as he craned to peer through the white cotton gown at her ample bosom.

Alessandra had been transfixed in his green and white gaze; she found herself lost, yet so comforted. Something about him seemed to call to her. As she blinked, she noticed he had broken eye contact and was obviously staring at her breasts.

“So tell me, Cardinal,” Alé interrupted his x-ray advances before continuing her wicked thought, “That night I rejected you… did you have to go home empty handed? Or did Omega take pity on you as he always does and take you to bed like the whore you are?”

Terzo’s eyes widened, not believing what he just heard. I think I might be in love with this woman. He had been halfway to dipping her in the water, the ends of her hair barely submerged, when he quickly released his grasp on her. Alessandra crashed back into the icy water with a shriek. She gasped for air as she tried to find her balance, stumbling again over a sunken log and falling into the water again.

Terzo’s mind buzzed with white static as couldn’t help but feel slightly childish for what he had done. He pushed air out of his mouth before working up the courage to hold out his hand to her, “Sorella, I’m so sorry. My hands slipped!”

Alé’s assessment was confirmed: he was a slut, a moron, and a liar. She hesitated before taking his hand, second guessing her actions. Terzo gave her one quick apologetic smile before she yanked his arm past her, causing Terzo to lose his balance and also fall face-first into the lake.

Terzo pulled his head up from under the water, sputtering and shaking his hair like a dog. He blew a string of snot out of his nose before looking back at the fiery woman, he absentmindedly checked his ear piercings and fixed the chained Grucifix that hung from his left lobe. He sighed and found himself drawn to the damp, furious goddess next to him. 

“Alright. Fair is fair, sister. I apologize for accidentally dropping you,” Terzo managed to pull himself back up, laughing as he held out his palms to her in an effort for peace, “No funny business. Serio.”

“I cannot believe this," Alé murmured to herself as she saw Cardinal Secondo angrily waving them down from the shore with a furious expression on his face.

“Cardinal!" Secondo shouted in a very stormy tone, “Have you lost your mind!?"

Terzo began to scoff before being cut off by his brother again.

“Quit flirting with each other. It's freezing, everyone else is trying to go inside, you've prolonged this enough," Secondo seethed. 

“We are not flirting!” Terzo and Alé balked, loudly talking over each other to try and explain their actions.

“I don't care! Terzo, help the sister up and finish your job."

Terzo noisily sighed as he turned to Alessandra, “At least we knocked the Jesus out of you, eh, Sorella? “

He bowed forward to take her hand to help her out of the lake. Alé slapped his outstretched palm away, “I am perfectly capable of managing myself. Now did you successfully unbaptize me or are you still just fucking around?”

As Terzo opened his mouth armed with a sarcastic comment, his eyes drifted to her heaving chest as she lifted herself back upright from the water. Her large breasts were drenched, white gown clinging to them leaving very little to the imagination. Terzo felt his jaw slacken a little wider. 

Cazzo. I think I am in love, echoing in his brain. He suddenly became hyper aware of his erection pressing through his wet bottoms. He slowly began to wade backwards into deeper water, waving Alessandra towards the shore, “Eh, go on ahead, Sister. We’re all good here.”

Alessandra’s jaw dropped, did he have a boner!? This couldn’t have gone any worse. Her gown dragged against her in the water as she tried to jog back onto land. Liz had a towel opened wide and quickly embraced Alé in a bear hug.

“I need a drink,” Alé uttered from inside the towel, begging to forget this entire experience.

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

Shortly after, the crowd had begun to disperse leaving the Cardinals by themselves. Secondo stared wordlessly at his younger brother as Terzo trudged up from the lake, readjusting his cock in his trousers. His eye paint was smeared down his cheeks and soaked from head to toe, but he sported the biggest shit eating grin on his messy face.

“Primo is going to rip you apart for this one, fratellino,” Secondo shook his head, arms still crossed over his chest, “Is that why you chose to punish her? Because Primo has taken to her and she wants absolutely nothing to do with you? Are you are feeling jealous?”

Terzo shrugged noncommittally, still smiling as he threw a towel over his head, “I did what I had to.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

Terzo nodded, drying off his face, “Absolutamente. Now, if you don’t mind, I left a rather large ghoul alone in a bed and I think it’s high time I go see to him.”

“I’m keeping these as emotional reimbursement for you making me hear that,” Secondo crossly replied, wagging the case of cigars and busty lighter at him.

Terzo chuckled as he walked past his brother, “Fair is fair, fratello.”

Translations: 

Onore -- Honor

Non importa -- It does not matter.

Come sta Primo? -- How is Primo?

Potrebbe essere morto, per quanto ti importa! -- He could be dead for all you care!

Cocca di papà -- Apple of Father's eye, Daddy’s girl

Sasso, carta, forbici? -- Rock, paper, scissors?

Sei un rompicoglioni -- You're a pain in the ass

Qualsiasi -- Whatever

Grazie mille! Sono elettrizzato! -- Thank you so much! I’m delighted/thrilled!

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #fanfiction of a fanfiction #copiousloverofcopia's characters #papa emeritus iii #terzo #ghost band #papa iii #papa terzo #terzo emeritus #papa emeritus lll #terzo x alé #terzo x alessandra #terzo x ale #tied as one #prime mover #prime mover alessandra #terzo as a dad #dad terzo #fanfic #Terzo X Alessandra #Terzo X Al�� #ghostband #papa emeritus terzo #daddy terzo #cardinal terzo #omega

[ahomeforwisters]

ava gift exchange 2023! 🎄🥳

it's here! happy holidays, lulw (@tdlad), hope you're having a good one! this isn't a piece of visual art since i don’t have the tools to create one, so you get a dr. seuss-inspired fic + a part of a fic i might finish later!

due to irl events, i had to rush these a bit, but i hope you enjoy it either way :) have a wonderful winter (or summer, depending on where you are) week, and happy (early) new year! *gives gingerbread cookie*

(prompt: i tried to combine elements from all three, but i focused on “the dark lord with red coat (that tdl in my posts)” specifically—your art is just gorgeous, btw!)

word count: ~1400 for the first one/the dr. suess-y one, ~1320 (and counting?) for the second one/the unfinished one

(and special thanks to @avagiftexchange for hosting this!)

Fic 1: How the Grinch Dark Lord Stole Christmas (or: dark's christmas cake romp)

Every stick in Stick City, near the end of the year, Every stick in Stick City brimmed with holiday cheer…

But! The Dark Lord, who’s not far from here, Who lived in the wintry woods quite near— The Dark Lord held Christmas even more dear!

~-~

The Dark Lord loved Christmas, this is no bluff, And you’d best believe it, he just can’t get enough! Was it because he enjoyed the sound of children laughing clear, Or did he simply have a particular liking for reindeer? Well I’ll tell you his secret, his reason for this: He really, really liked log cakes, they fill him with bliss.

“Christmas awaits, on the very next day, Christmas really is just a day away!”

But, From his perch in the woods, Watching the stars from where he stood, With hungry eyes and vibrant ardor, With the growing desire for Christmas he harbors, (and a craving for frosting he just can’t ignore), The Dark Lord knew: he needed more!

He needed more of all that Christmas had in store! And he will get more, he swore, He’ll claim even more of Christmas, ‘twas his right as a Lord!

But—how? Christmas is already drawing so near, Soon enough, Christmas will practically already be here! He needed more time, and he needed… a plan! A plan to put Christmas in the palm of his hand.

So The Dark Lord schemed, And he schemed, and he schemed, And he conjured a scheme, A terrible scheme!

“A-ha! I’ve got a brilliant idea!”

Dark cackled, a sound from deep in his throat, As he pulled from his closet his most dapper red coat. “They’ll never see me coming, even from the skies, “So long as I craft myself a most clever disguise!”

So he lined his coat with cotton, like Santa’s coat proper, Just as into the room, his friend Chosen entered— “Look, dearest Chosen, I’ve come up with a plan, “A plan to seize Christmas in the palm of my hand!”

Dear Chosen deadpanned, “Why are you talking like that,” And right after, he inquired, what about your silly Santa’s hat?

“No I didn’t—”

“Right here! I believe my night cap is sufficient,” Dark proclaimed, wearing the hat over his ears. “Now I only need a reindeer…”

But around this area, their part of the woods here, This much Dark knew: you wouldn’t find any deer! But was Dark deterred…? No! He said, “If I can’t find a deer, I’ll just make one instead!”

“...What do you think you’re doing with that big red nose.”

…And Dark ended up sticking the nose and antlers on his one last Virabot instead!

And so, with his little red cap on his hollow red head, And his feet firmly planted in his makeshift sled— He took with him a burlap sack, Which he then hoisted upon his back— He yelled, “Onward!” just before he took flight, Off to steal Christmas, he disappeared into the night!

~-~

Back on the ground, Chosen gazed down at the cardboard box—sorry, at the sled—Dark left behind. He stared at the confused Virabot, wearing an antler headband and sporting a red clown nose glued to its face, and sighed. “This is so stupid…”

~-~

A jaunty holiday tune played from an open Chrome window, But not a sound could be heard coming from inside their homes. He was here at last, and at the perfect time, too— They must all be in their beds, dreaming away without a clue! “Now to enact my plan…”

So he climbed down the chimney, one crafted from brick, It wasn’t too tight a fit, for he was literally a stick. Though he did get stuck once, or twice, maybe thrice— And he cursed his head, loudly, for it was massive in size. “Ow—seriously, who makes chimneys this small—”

“Second, is that you?”

Just as Dark managed to extricate himself, finally, Free from the clutches of that dastardly chimney— He came face-to-face with his first obstacle: Little Cindy-Blue Who, carrying fruits in a bowl.

“Wha… Little Cindy-Blue who?”

That’s right! Little Cindy-Blue Who, probably much older than two, Who… was actually awake at this time? But it’s two (a.m.)!

“Oh, no, we don’t actually sleep. Like at all. Except Second, sometimes, but he’s off doing his own thing right now. But uhh, anyways, hi, Dark Lord! What—what’s up? And why are you dressed like…”

And oh, there was a cautious glint in his eyes— He was nervous! But there was no need for such fright, Not if Dark wanted his plan to go without a hitch. So Dark would assure him, and explain his impromptu visit:

“You see, sweet youth—you see, the job of Santy, “Is to stock up your stockings, and fill them aplenty! “So that’s what I’m here for—but not you, my dear, “For this gift’s a surprise, so I can’t have you near.”

And the lie rolled cleanly off The Dark Lord’s tongue, For he was clever, and sure to fool the young. And surely enough, Cindy-Blue Who was nodding, Raring and ready to hurry back to bed a-plodding. You’re right, Santa Dark, he joyfully exclaimed, I’ll head right back to bed now! With a turn and a wave.

“What? But I didn’t say anythi—”

And so, with his burlap sack swinging, And with Cindy-Blue assuaged, standing there beaming— “Hey, don’t—get back here…!” The Dark Lord marched onward, his first obstacle cleared!

…only to find four more, all waiting at the door!

(…crap)

Ahem—what a surprise! The Dark Lord gasped, He can’t believe his eyes, ‘twas something he almost couldn’t grasp— What a sight, that they’d all come to greet him so, How happy they must be, to all rush out and greet him so!

“Hey uhh… what’s he saying?”

‘What’s he saying?’ They’re asking what game he’s playing! They ask why he’s here, and on what he was preying. But! faced with a barrier of four— Now five, as Cindy-Blue Who, panting, adds one more… They all block his path to the far kitchen door, But has this ever stopped The Dark Lord before? No!

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Cindy-Blue called when Dark showed no signs of slowing.

“Why’d you come here all of a sudden?” Said the yellow, placing a hand on his chin.

“The Cindy-blue-what now?” Slowly asked the red fellow.

“And what’s with the getup?” Queried Green, looking him from the toes up.

“Oh, Chosen told me he and Dark recently discovered these popular picture books. And ever since then, Dark’s been narrating everything he does in rhyme.”

“Ah, is that why he’s talking like that?” Yellow asked, eyeing his little Santa’s hat.

“That’s actually kind of impressive,” Remarked Green, who’s usually quite quick to forgive.

“Ooh, try rhyming something with orange!” Red said as Cindy-Blue stood next to Orange.

“Please stop calling me that, I don’t even know what it means,” Groaned Cindy-Blue Who, beside a laughing Green.

“Hey guys, Chosen texted me again just now—apparently Dark is here trying to ‘steal Christmas’ from us—which really just means he wants our log cakes.”

(goddammit Chosen you traitor)

“Wait, that’s it? That’s what that devious plan he was cackling about is?”

“I mean, Blue could always just make another cake. You could’ve just asked if you wanted one.”

“Yeah, and you’re… kind of really bad at sneaking? We could hear you narrating really loudly as soon as you got here.”

“And cursing out Orange’s chimney, too. Geez, that was vulgar…”

“Well,” with a flourish, the orange stick gestures, Towards the kitchen, where Dark had been hoping to plunder. “We’ve got some cake, if you want it. Next time just let us know you’re coming before you tear a portal through our wifi. And maybe keep your visits during the daytime, or at least don’t come crawling down my chimney past midnight…”

What was this? Could it be—no, it simply couldn’t be… But it was! “They’ll stand here and hand Christmas—to me?” For ‘twas the season of giving, of gifts freely given, Of gingerbread, batter, and cakes in the kitchen.

And there Dark stood and pondered, and pondered, and pondered, ‘Til a bright thought struck him! One that filled him with wonder: Could it be, then, that Christmas was not for the taking, But for shared cheer and laughs and all that in the making?

“Oh, for Adobe’s—just sit down and have some log cake.” And, well— ‘Twas simply an offer Dark cannot forsake.

- the end -

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

Fic 2: i don't actually have a name for it yet, but i think i'll call it thaw for now

Christmas. ‘Twas a time of joyous laughter and warm embraces, of fireside affections and wintry escapades. ‘Twas the season of giving, be it presents or sweets or even the simplest of smiles—‘twas a time when even the little things, when given to another, are made infinitely precious.

Christmas. ‘Twas an absolutely perplexing holiday, for a stick such as The Dark Lord—and ‘twas a completely pointless one, too, as far as Dark was concerned.

Yet, when a pair of glittery red envelopes arrived at the doorstep of his and Chosen’s cabin in the woods—and when he opened one of them up to find an invitation inside, filigreed in gold and writ upon with a blue gel pen (in rather shaky handwriting, he noticed)—he didn’t immediately turn it to ash. He regarded it for longer than he normally would’ve, longer than he should’ve, turning it this way and that under the light—‘You’re invited!’, it winked up at him. If he didn’t know better just how sappy the animator’s favorite and his friends can be, he would’ve thought this was some kind of taunt.

(“You’re invited!”? who in their right minds would want to invite The Dark Lord, the outernet’s worst cyber-criminal, to something as mundane—as warm alien pointless—as a holiday gathering?)

While he was still winning gots nose at the gaudy invitation, the only other stick around for miles appeared in his periphery—Chosen picked up an envelope, too, when he saw what Dark was studying at the doorway. Dark almost hadn’t noticed when his fr… when his roommate had snuck up behind him, his pronounced footfalls doing little to breach the chasm between them; it was all he could do to stop himself from launching a fireball at Chosen as soon as the latter reached past him (he hadn’t forgotten how well that’d gone for him the last time…) 

Clumsily, fumbling with it once or twice, Chosen peeled at the envelope. His invitation was inked in orange instead of blue, littered with tiny scribbled drawings, and written in much neater script, too. Dark couldn’t catch the rest; Chosen always stood with his feet angled toward him these days, so his invitation turned away from view. That, and he’d moved a few paces away from the doorway—and Dark wasn’t interested anyway, he wasn’t. Pointless, he told himself again, it was such a pointless gesture. It was something he didn’t need—The Dark Lord had better things to do, had more important things to do, than to entertain something as small and banal as a Christmas party—it was a pointless affair, that was all it was.

(and yet.)

And yet. Dark wouldn’t be able to say what possessed him to do it; if it was sheer curiosity, a part of him balking at his own degrading wonder—or if it was when Chosen’s fingers tightened their hold on his invitation, carving minute creases into the paper,

and when the other stick’s eyes crinkled, just barely, in tender longing silent laughter only Dark would recognize—when those eyes finally met his, carrying a question and a spark Dark hadn’t seen in so long—he couldn’t find it within him to say no.

(it was Chosen’s idea, he would say later—it was all his roommate’s fault, the first and last person to extend their hand to him, that he was crashing their little party. he hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t needed it—he didn’t need this, he didn’t.)

~-~

If he was being honest—Dark really didn’t have anything better to do than to attend the party.

Ever since he was blasted to kingdom come by the animator’s favorite, ever since a battered Chosen had found him at the foot of a volcano and hauled his near-corpse all the way back to their cabin—in the months since, he’d seldom left their secluded area in the woods to do anything more than take a short walk. His shoulder still smarted from the hole that’d been blown through it, his skin etched with throbbing green scars all over—he couldn’t travel far beyond the bounds of the woods without wilting, robbed of breath. Needless to say, his heydays of ash and destruction were far behind him.

(and even if all his progress hadn’t been deleted, rendered void when Chosen destroyed the rest of his virabots following the “incident”—these days, looking at the place where he’d once stood tapping away at his computer, believing himself the inheritor of a grander purpose than the one dealt to him by the animator—it left an sour taste in his mouth.)

In his current condition, even petty theft seemed beyond his capabilities. Which was going to be a problem, he realized, when he turned to the back of the invitation and saw the damning first rule of the party written in a bold green: “Come in a costume! No costume, NO ENTRY.”

Well, in the state he was in, he wasn’t going to be pulling any heists anytime soon, not even on cheap outfitters—and he doubted any store would simply let a notorious cyber-criminal waltz into their establishment, even just to look around. That left him with only two options: either go through his own closets, or brave Chosen’s minefield of a room to rifle through his. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

With practiced ease (and only slightly impeded by his still-healing injuries), Dark picked his way past piles of lightly-charred sweaters, discarded bandages, random knick knacks collecting dust over the years, a self-sustaining tornado of trash—all the way across his roommate’s bedroom to reach the far end where the closets were. While Dark considered his fashion sense to be impeccable, none of his clothes really screamed “festive.” It was all something along the lines of “looks like he could kill you” or “warning: would actually kill you.” Chosen’s taste in clothes, on the other hand, was more… eclectic. There was more variety; he’d probably have a better chance finding something acceptable to wear here than in his own wardrobe.

Dark threw open the leftmost closet, a mahogany behemoth with the price sticker still slapped on the left door, and oh, that was—what even was that? No, those pants were too long, and the pair beside them the wrong shade of green—and oh, that’s garish, why did he even think to nab this? What is this even supposed to be, a mop? Or some kind of shawl? That color is way too bright to ever belong on a shirt, that shirt is a visual safety hazard. And what—why aren’t these socks the same, where’s the other one in the pair? None of these socks are the same—is that a pair of googly eyes—

Dark shut the closet door. He should’ve expected this, really; he’d witnessed the affront to fashion that was Chosen’s wardrobe thousands of times before, whenever they had to disguise themselves to go into the city. The two other closets wouldn’t be much better, he knew, but just as he was turning to head back toward the door—had that box always been there?

Tucked away into the corner of the room was a small cardboard box, a little tattered and stained in several spots from years of disuse but otherwise appearing untouched by the surrounding mess. As an expert at navigating Chosen’s room, Dark knew for certain it hadn’t been there the last time he was here (just over three months ago. he’d been scrounging for one of the aprons he’d left in Chosen’s room; it feels like it’s been forever since then.)

It took only a short hop for Dark to reach it. The next second, he was kneeling down in front of it, carefully lifting the top flaps—and sure, maybe a part of him was prodding at him, telling him whatever was in there was probably stashed away in the corner for a reason, reminding him that things are different now, the space between you and him, it’s different now—but that hadn’t ever stopped Dark before

(aaand that's all i have for this second one for now. i'll probs post the rest on ao3 or something if i finish this, but i'll def let you know!)

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

but yeah, anywho, that's all—have a wonderful holiday season! :)

#ava gift exchange #ava gift exchange 2023 #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #alan becker #ava tco #ava tdl #avm tsc #avm green #avm blue #avm red #avm yellow #for the first fic i just wanted to write dark being a goof #while the second was more character-studyish #anywho #it's here! gift exchange! :D

[vikygoestheextramile]

I had a slip up.

Well, I don't know that this is exactly the term for it, but I had successfully been using a daily routine to keep my efforts on track for about two weeks. So, last Thursday my routine was disrupted, as it was a sort of holiday here in Greece, the point of which is "Eat all the meat in sight before the 40day lent starts!". Of course, almost no one is doing lent for 40 days after it, but almost everyone consumes meat like it's the last time they get to. 😅 More of an eating tradition than a holiday at this point, and boy, do we get many of those in Greece!

Despite everything, I didn't overeat that day, I think everything was under control, but we did spend the night at my family home, with my partner. And guess what? You can't really perform your daily routine if you're not in your space! So I couldn't do my morning yoga, which I had been doing for 15 days straight. I thought, well, it doesn't matter, and I grabbed the opportunity to go on a hike, on a nearby mountain. It was about a 3 hour walk, and I absolutely loved every moment of it.

So after all this, I thought eating just a bit more yesterday, was okay, missing morning yoga, missing the gym that day, was okay.

But this little slip up gave me an opportunity to stretch the imperfect day, to a couple of days, and then to 3 or 4!

My partner, right now he seems to be even more prone to junk food than I am, so it makes it a bit harder for me to resist, when he doesn't, or when he invites it in. But, luckily, this only lasted 4 or 5 days. We both felt that we didn't need to be in that mental space that consuming junk food was creating for us, even if you exclude the reaction of the body completely.

But, unfortunately for my routine, on Monday I started an acting seminar. It's going great, and I'm really excited about it, BUT in terms of holding on to the routine, it's not helping, as it involves a commitment of 5 hours a day, 10am to 3pm, Monday through Friday, plus the extra work we need to put in at home, which is A LOT.

When I expressed my concerns to my therapist, about losing my routine when I start the 3-week seminar, she told me that I should focus on holding on to one or two components of my routine, and not try to do the whole thing, or, on the flipside, just completely cut it out until the course is finished.

So, these two elements combined led to me losing progress, as I gained 0,8kg, but most importantly, I lost control of my day-to-day, for the entirety of this past week. I just went through the motions, nothing more.

Today, a Saturday with no class, and, as I've been trying to get back on the horse, before it bolts into the woods and I can never find it again, I made a move.

I got up, I made my bed, I put my workout clothes on, and I rolled out the mat. And I went on youtube and I did the next practice of the 30-day Yoga Journey I'm taking, which is the one below. "Reset". And sweet Adriene, the instructor, said at the start of the video: "Today we take the opportunity to celebrate that we're halfway through the journey", which on its own made me smile, as I felt a sense of achievement for actually having done the first two weeks of the journey, even if they were before the slip-up, it was all the more reason to remember that this, all of it, it's something that I can do, but she went on to say "and we also take the opportunity to hit the reset button", and I teared up. I was resetting on my own anyway, and not exactly by choice, but I felt not alone, I felt like she was giving me an opportunity for a fresh start, although it doesn't need to be that, it only needs to be an invitation to continue where we left off, and that it was, as my body was fully able to answer the call. Nothing was gone, and it was all there.

So, I guess, onwards (and upwards) we go!

Home - Day 15 - Reset | 30 Days of Yoga

#personal fitblr #personal #ywa #yogawithadriene #yoga with adriene #find what feels good #fwfg #fitblr problems #fitblr #healthblr #Youtube

[a-wins-a-win]

mouse's attempted B;APO timeline

aka i was writing an irrelevant detail in a silly little fic and it occurred to me that oh wait i could actually think about this!!

credit where credit's due - i am using this timeline right here (from @hearmyvoicee) as a base, but i have some particular thoughts/interpretations of my own + felt like using 2001 dates! (bc why not, ya know? keep it basically of the time it opened) so this whole thing is mostly for my own reference, but if it makes sense to any of y'all as well? great <;3 [keeping it under the cut for my own sanity + yours]

.✨.

Sunday, January 7 [the feast of the Epiphany is celebrated on January 6th, or the closest Sunday to that date - in the case of 2001, that's the 7th]

Epiphany

Monday - Friday, January 8 - 12 [ i swear on my life someone mentioned to me once that it's generally accepted that You & I spans several days?? i cannot find who or where but someone tell me i'm not going insane ]

You & I

Friday, January 12 [the friday is entirely arbitrary, just seems the type of day you'd hold auditions - give it a week to stir interest, cast on friday, start up your rehearsals from the next monday onwards] [i have never been in theater though, so don't hold me to that]

Role Of A Lifetime

Auditions

Plain Jane Fatass

Thursday, February 22 [to me the phrase "we'll meet in Tanya's room on Friday night" implies that it's not yet Friday + in theory the song takes place during study hall, so an actual weekday? so to that end it could be any day monday-thursday, the specifics not mattering in particular, but i arbitrarily went with thursday so that Ivy’s birthday lines up right]

Wonderland

Friday, February 23

A Quiet Night At Home

Rolling

Best Kept Secret

Wednesday, February 28 [borrowing from the previous timeline for this one - the Lent + Ash Wednesday significance makes sense] [to that end, Ash Wednesday 2001 was in fact February 28th]

Confession

Portrait Of A Girl

Thursday, March 1 [in Wonderland they reference the fact that "Ivy's birthday's in a week", ergo wonderland date + 1 week]

Birthday, Bitch!

One Kiss

Are You There?

911! Emergency!

Friday, March 2 [peter mentions 911! Emergency as being "last night"]

Reputation Stain'd

Ever After

Saturday, March 10 [generally, the Spring Break week is from March 11 to March 17, so in my head it makes sense for them to be leaving for their spring break the day beforehand - ergo, March 10th]

Spring

One

✨ spring break / intermission ✨

Sunday, March 17 [the sunday makes sense in my head to mirror Epiphany]

Wedding Bells

Monday, March 19

In The Hallway

Monday, March 26 [ as claire says - "gone a week, i miss you already". so if classes started again on the 19th + 1 week is the 26th ]

Touch My Soul

See Me

Warning

[sidenote, easter 2001 was sunday april 15. to that end, to account for the Easter Monday holiday, likely they had the 16th off also]

Friday, May 18 [okay listen!! i know it crowds A LOT of act 2 together but!! the way sister chantelle says here "if you decide you want to get together one more time" implies to me that they aren't going to be having more Official rehearsal time before the play actually gets performed] [it all has to occur between monday may 14 & sunday may 20 for jason's "graduate next sunday" line to be technically correct] [rory's decided that they'll "meet back here. seven o'clock" - which i was always under the impression is the supposed to be rehearsal that sets up Promise] [Nadia's "call me tonight, or tomorrow, or whenever" to me implies that she won't see him tomorrow? so probably they don't have any classes or rehearsal the next day]["i know it's late" in Cross is such a little detail, but to me it just ties it all up]

Pilgrim's Hands

God Don't Make No Trash

All Grown Up

Promise

Once Upon A Time

Cross

Saturday, May 19 [saturday night seems a reasonable time to put on the show, right? like in order to make it accessible to family + friends outside of the school?]

Two Households

Bare

Queen Mab

A Glooming Peace

Tuesday, May 22 [a {catholic} person is buried between 2 and 7 days after their death, typically around 3. i always got the vibes that Absolution was supposed to take place on/around jason's funeral, ergo the play + 3 days]

Absolution

Sunday, May 27 [going with the assumption that they graduate on the last sunday in may, in 2001 that date was the 27th]

No Voice

.✨.

wanna make it super clear that i a) am australian and b) am not catholic and c) have never been to boarding school or in theater so a lot of dates were found via google search, and/or arbitrarily assigned weekdays

also also at the end of the day i'm not sure the specifics of the timeline super duper matter, it was mostly just for fun - but like. feel free to share ur thoughts!

#bare a pop opera #bapo timeline #mouse talks bapo #look i know its kind of insane pacing to have pilgrim's hands through to cross all happen in the space of like. 6/7 hours. BUT #i mean you COULD stretch it out to have pligrim's hands through promise happen on the thursday / OUAT + cross on the friday / #the actual play on the saturday - but if there was a friday between promise + the play then why wouldn't they have another rehearsal? - #- the kids being generally untalented/unprepared as they are

[callmewishful]

Day Two of Gautier Family Week! Grief, mourning, and loss await…

.—.

It was late when the knight woke them; frantic pounding on the door that caused Matthias to jump from the bed. His first thoughts were of his sons. Both boys liked to stay out late, Miklan more so than Sylvain, and such late-night excursions could bring trouble. Especially with the like Miklan hung out with and the deeds that Sylvain did. Matthias knew both from personal experience.

“Urgent message from Fhirdiad, M’Lord.” The messenger thrust the letter upon him. Matthias would kill Lambert if it truly wasn’t urgent.

But, according to a staffer in the letter, it was, and the Margrave found himself on the blackened road to his capital in the wee hours of the night. Phelan had begged him to take a battalion or two with him; he couldn’t though. If it was what he feared when he read ‘an incident occurred in Duscur’ then he needed to arrive quickly, and the extra men would only slow him down.

He noted immediately that Rodrigue had not yet arrived, judging by the lack of noise in the castle. Rodrigue could often be found chatting amongst the knights or the staffers, telling horrid jokes and rambling on about whatever topic of conversation suited him best that hour. Instead, the air in the castle felt…stif. There was a tension that Matthias couldn’t quite determine a cause for. Aside from the fact that morning was just breaking, and the people inside had surely been awake for half a day already, things seemed relatively normal.

At least until the first staffer spotted him.

“Ahh! Margrave Gautier!” She ran forward with a haste that worried Matthias. He felt like a healer who was urgently needed because a dying patient came in. And Matthias was no healer. That was Rodrigue.

The woman grabbed onto his forearm, pulling him forward without taking a moments pause to explain. Matthias opened his mouth to question her but was caught off guard by the sheer strength she possessed that caused him to stumble forward after her. Once he regained his pace, he went to ask again on the gravity of the situation. Perhaps Lambert was in a worse state than he had feared. Perhaps it was the Sreng campaign once more and Lambert’s inability to stay with the group nearly got him killed a second time…well, technically a fourth time but Matthias was trying not to hold that against him.

“Madam, where are we off to?” When Matthias found his voice, it was not to ask the question he had initially wanted. The lady passed the stairs leading up to Lambert’s room and his study and his office, all places that Lambert would be. Instead, she dragged him onward towards the main sitting room. He didn’t understand what could be in that room. There was no holiday. It hadn’t been Matthias’s birthday. If things with Duscur had gone well, the staffer wouldn’t have called it ‘an incident.’ Or maybe Lambert would direct them to because he knew it would get Matthias there faster…. Lambert was smart and cunning like that when he wanted to be. If this was truly a ploy to get him into a party, they would be celebrating Matthias going to jail for treason.

He was even more confused when they came upon the sitting room and only the young Prince sat on the ground before the fire. Dimitri was huddled into a blanket, yet he shivered as though that and the fire did nothing for him. His hair was wet, freshly washed perhaps as it was not raining, and hung down in darker blonde clumps. Surely that was the cause of his cold.

Matthias rose an eyebrow at the staffer. For the first time since taking him on this journey, she looked him in the eye. With a cocked head and furrowed brows, she looked just as unsure as Matthias felt. “My Lord?”

“What is going on?” Matthias whispered, gesturing around him.

Her face paled and the woman swallowed hard. Apparently, she had been under the impression Matthias knew exactly what was going on and she was not excited about being the one to have to tell him. “You-you didn’t hear about Duscur?”

“Only that there was an incident.”

“Oh.” She looked out towards His Highness then before turning to look the other way; trying to find someone else to break the news. He knew this behavior. He’d seen it before. It was bad, then. Far worse than he had thought.

“Where is Lambert?” Matthias knew the answer to this question.

The lady looked down at the floor, biting her bottom lip before meeting his intense gaze. “I-I am so sorry, M’Lord-“

“By whose hand?”

This question confused her. “Duscur’s?”

Matthias frowned. He doubted that. Duscur wasn’t that foolish…were they? Matthias thought things had gone well between the two countries. Lambert always spoke so positively of their exchanges and brief meetings. Though his old friend was…had been…apt to see the brighter side than most others. Still, Lambert was a strong man. He had pushed through far heftier defensive lines and came through unscathed. He survived saving Rodrigue from bandits and Sreng. Surely Lambert could survive Duscur of all countries.

“Ahh, Leanna!” Rodrigue waved to the woman in front of Matthias with a cheerful smile. Clearly Rodrigue did not know anything either. The man would never be able to even feign a smile had he known about the rumors of Lambert.

“Duke Fraldarius.” Leanna nodded, mustering a small smile for him. Rodrigue picked up on her mood instantly, he always was perceptive like that, and he looked to Matthias. Despite the margrave’s steady expressions, Rodrigue always knew how to read them as well. Matthias could tell he didn’t do a good job of masking his pain because Rodrigue’s chipper mood fell like a struck pegasus.

“What happened?” He lowered his voice, eyes focused on Matthias. Leanna dismissed herself then, a lingering hand on Rodrigue’s upper arm. So, it fell to Matthias. He despised that. Rodrigue would take it hard, and they all knew it. Matthias didn’t wish to be the one to cause that pain.

In a brief moment of clarity, he remembered the young boy in the room beside them and he guided Rodrigue to an empty lounge down the hall. As they walked his mind spun in endless circles, desperate to figure out how the hell he was going to tell Rodrigue. His friend would be crushed, broken into many pieces. Matthias had to be gentle…and that was not a strong point of his. He was a man of duty, not emotion. And while Phelan had awoken a few of those he thought to be long dead, Matthias was still nowhere near the man he had once been.

There was so much to do though. The crown was gone, Dimitri too young to ascend the throne which meant it would fall to…dear Goddess she despised them. His Highness was likely shattered from potentially witnessing his father’s death, an investigation needed to be completed as to what the hell happened, knights to be interviewed, the battle scene to be inspected; someone had to give statement to the country, both noble and commoners. Lambert’s meetings and work would have to be gone through and that would be a damn pain because Lambert never, not once in his life, took good notes. And how were they to continue on to run the country when Lambert couldn’t be bothered to take five minutes to jot a few things down or when he wasn’t ever coming back? How could he be so foolish as to leave them like this? How could he leave them at all?

It wasn’t supposed to go that way. None of it was supposed to go that way. First Lia…now Lambert. The second funeral he never wanted to plan. The second funeral he shouldn’t have had to plan. Didn’t the Goddess know how things worked? Matthias was the margrave. He was tasked with protecting the country and laying his life down for the sake of it. Lambert was supposed to live to keep the country running until His Highness was of age.

Matthias had faced battle and threats every day since he was eight years old. How many times could the Goddess have taken his life instead?

It would’ve been better served. Matthias wasn’t like Lambert and Rodrigue. He’d lost too much, a wife, a son. Why wouldn’t the Goddess take him instead? He served his purpose. He provided Gautier and Faerghus two sons who had more skill and knowledge than Matthias had ever had in those years. If the Goddess really wanted to take someone for tribute for some sin or because she was angered at something, couldn’t she take him instead? Hell, she might have been doing the country a favor that way.

“Matthias.” Rodrigue pulled at the margrave’s sleeve. He looked desperate and Matthias couldn’t help thinking that maybe Rodrigue had started to piece things together for himself. Matthias had been so lost in his own damn head that he wasn’t acting. Wasn’t that the story of the last few years. Lambert was acting, working to better Faerghus. Wasn’t that another point in favor of his king’s life?

“What is going on?” Rodrigue begged, grabbing Matthias by the shoulders now. “You are…I haven’t seen this expression on your face since…dear Goddess, Matthias. No.”

As he suspected, Rodrigue figured it out before Matthias could say anything. Rodrigue was no idiot, even if Matthias did like to tease him with such in their youth. The duke collapsed in on himself, slow enough that Matthias was able to help lower him to the ground. Rodrigue kept repeating the same phrase ‘he can’t be, he can’t be’ as they sunk to the floor. His old friend took hold of the front of his shirt, eyes pleading and head shaking over and over. Matthias placed a heavy hand on Rodrigue’s shoulder; a finality it seemed, as the man finally closed his mouth and his eyes.

They sat like that, Matthias crouched beside Rodrigue while the duke sat on the floor with the tight grip on Matthias’s shirt, for what felt like years. Matthias swore the outside was dark, or maybe his eyes were just poorly adjusting to the light, by the time Rodrigue spoke again. “Dimitri.”

He tried to stand at the name of their new King, and Matthias finally spoke. “Don’t.”

“He needs-“

“I will tend to him. Take your time.”

Rodrigue retained his wits far quicker than Matthias had. With a quirked brow, he asked the question as gently as one could, “Are you sure you want to handle that?”

It was a fair question. Matthias was not as well versed in emotion but if there was one he knew well it was grief.

“I will be fine. You should rest, Rodrigue.” Matthias stood then, a task in front of him to attend to.

He needed to attend to the young boy because there was no mistaking it now. Their king, their leader, their friend was dead.

#man it’s fun to dig in Matthias’s brain and put him back here but it also hurts #gautierfamilyweek #matthias raoul gautier #rodrigue achille fraldarius #lambert egitte blaiddyd #l writes

[bellaatmclaren]

Chapter Two // Battle of the Paddock

Within two weeks, Bella found herself packing up her life and getting ready for a trip to Bahrain, to start the first testing session of the year. In those two weeks, Bella had forgotten all about her nerves. She had spent most of those days, side-by-side with Lando and his teammate, Oscar Piastri. She had followed Lando to photoshoots, interviews, suit fittings, to see his new car and everything in between. They had gone for breakfasts, lunches, dinners, coffees, and late-night drinks at bars around London. It hadn’t taken long to form a strong bond of friendship.

Over drinks one evening, Lando had confided in her about his break-up with Luisa. They had only been together for eight months, but Lando had been smitten with the model. It had hurt more when the media had started to report that the split came abruptly after Lando had been ‘exposed’ to sending flirty messages to another woman.

“Honestly, Bells. It’s not what happened. I mean, yes, I did send them but that was after we had split up. There’s nothing wrong with that, was there? I was just messing”.

Bella signed and reached across to place her hand on top of his.

“No, Lando, there isn’t but the media are never going to portray it the boring way, are they? You were single, but if the world didn’t know that at the time, how were we to know any different? And so quickly after the split too, I mean, that would have kicked Luisa where it hurt most.”

Lando nodded slowly, letting out a big sigh.

“I know, I fucked it up more than I should, but I never meant to hurt her. She was my world…”

He stared out of the bar window into the lamp-lit street. Bella could see his eyes glistening, deep in thoughts of regret and pain.

“I know Lando, I know. But onwards and upwards now, hey? Let’s focus on getting you that world championship”.

“You’ve always got your work head on, haven’t you? It’s like being with Charlotte all over again”, he chuckled, hiding the darkness away. “I don’t know if I want to fall in love again, I can’t ever feel that pain again. I don’t think I could carry on. I felt so alone after she left.”

“Lando, don’t say that, please. You’re not alone, I’m right here and I won’t leave you, I promise”.

Bella looked at him a little differently after that night, she saw past the external shell of a playful, cheeky chap to hurt and lonely young boy. A young boy that just wanted something, just once to go his way. She knew he was tired of being the ‘babyface’ of the paddock, but she didn’t want him to lose his sparkle either. That set him apart from the other boys. Bella could tell, deep down he was hurting, badly.

***

It was a late evening of a cold, crisp February day when Bella found herself climbing out of a car and following Lando into Heathrow Airport, ready to catch a flight to Bahrain. She was not looking forward to sitting, cramped in an aircraft for near to ten hours. They did have a slight release in a change in Abu Dhabi, but it still wasn’t going to be ideal. Bella could never sleep on planes, not that she had been on many.

Bella’s mother died when she was just a year old, leaving behind herself and her father. As a single parent, he never had much money to spend on exotic holidays, but that had never mattered to her. They had gone to local beaches, rented caravans, and tents, and just enjoyed the time they had together.

She followed Lando toward a huddled group near the check-in desks. Both Lando and herself were wearing the distinctive, orange McLaren jackets but she didn’t see any more orange in the group.

“LANDO NORRIS! Have you grown this winter? I swear that last time I saw you, you were only up to my armpits.” Laughed a tall man that Bella didn’t recognise.

The group laughed and another taller man stepped forward and put his arm around Lando.

“I do apologise about him, you look amazing,” he said as he released Lando.

Stepping back, Bella recognised this second man as George Russell.

“Lando, who is this lovely companion of yours?”

“Oh, that’s Bella. She’s the new Charlotte!”

“Blimey, you have some work cut out for you then Bella!” George smiled, as he stepped forward to embrace her. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m George and this joker here is Henry”.

He gestured to the first gentleman who had spoken.

“Nice to meet you, Bella” Henry shook her hand. “Welcome to the crew! I could do with some more faces to chat to whilst these lot abandon us for the track”.

“Thank you, yes please, some company would be brilliant. Apart from a few of the McLaren team and Lando, I don’t know anyone else who will be in the paddock with us. Do you work with George as well?”

Henry laughed.

“He wishes, I’m George’s partner so you could say I’m his emotional support advisor. We all know he likes a little cry now and then.”

“Oh, stop it you” George playfully pushed Henry’s arm.

Lando introduced Bella to the other drivers and their PR advisors stood in the group. She had shaken hands with Pierre Gasly, Alex Albon, and Esteban Ocon. Each who were equally as warm and welcoming as George and Henry.

“I thought there would be more of us here this morning?” Asked Lando.

“Well, Lewis, Max, Lance, Fernando, and the others all jumped on private jets because they’re all far too good for us, slumming it on a commercial airline,” said Alex, rolling his eyes.

“Bella, I am so excited about this flight. You can get to know this lot. Have you ever flown first class before? It’s awesome”

“Lando, Bella probably won’t...” George started.

“They bring you drinks, and posh food and you even get a bed!” Said Lando excitedly, almost jumping up and down like a small child.

“No, I haven’t,” She said, “And I won’t be this time. I’m not important enough for the first class I’m afraid. My ticket is for the usual seats, so you’ll have to enjoy them without me”.

Lando’s face fell.

“What? Show me your ticket”.

Bella got out her phone and Lando read her boarding pass.

“No! That’s not fair, Henry gets to fly with us! Why can’t you?”

“Henry only flies with us because we’ve been together for a couple of years, Lando.” George said sympathetically “the first year, I bought him his ticket and then Williams let me have him, but I had to ask them nicely. Sorry buddy”

Lando looked at Bella, to George, and back in disbelief.

“Excuse me, just one minute,” Lando said as he scooted off, leaving his baggage with them.

“Anyway, Bella. Let us go grab a coffee and you can tell us a little about yourself?” George gestured toward the lounge.

Lando approached the check-in desk. He still had Bella’s phone in his hand.

“Hi, excuse me, sorry to bother you but I was wondering if we could upgrade a seat on this flight?”

“Good evening, Sir. Of course, if I just take some passenger details I can see what I can do for you” Said the smiling attendant, taking the phone from his hand.

“I see, unfortunately, this seat would have to be paid upfront for an upgrade. I wouldn’t be able to charge it to your company.”

Lando scrabbled around in his bag and produced his wallet, opening it and handing the attendant a card.

“Just pop it on this card, it’s fine”

“Thank you, sir, I will do that for you now. Did you want me to put her with you? You have an empty seat in your pod”.

“Yes, please”.

Bella, George, and Henry were deep in discussion about growing up in the Kent area when Lando approached them, looking deeply satisfied with himself.

“What have you done now, Lando?” Asked George, raising an eyebrow. “I do hope it’s not mischievous”.

“Nope, but now, Bella is flying with us in first class!”

Lando tucked his wallet back into the pocket of his bag.

“Lando! You better have not just paid for that…” Bella said, exasperatedly.

Lando just winked at her and sat down amongst them to discuss the upcoming practice sessions.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Ginny Headcanons for her birthday

She has always loved her birthday

Being the youngest, she gets so much attention, and even Bill and Charlie always seem to be around in her birthday

Percy always reads her “babbity rabbity and her cackling stump” for her birthday, a tradition that continues after the war

(It’s their favorite Beedle the Bard story)

She finds out she’s pregnant with James on her 22nd birthday

Okay, onward - she and Harry get married on Aug 16th…right after her 22nd birthday

Ginny is the one to name James actually, she won the right in a game of “rock, paper, scissors”

She knew that Harry wanted to name their son after his dad, and she loved the name James since she was little

But Harry wanted James’ middle name to be Albus and she wanted it to be Sirius

Sirius had been so kind to her when she got nightmares at Grimmauld Place, he would make her hot chocolate and tell her about the uncles she never met

In fact, Sirius told her a lot of stories that she was able to pass onto her brothers, Harry, and later their children

Ginny is always the storyteller

Al was born a week after Ginny’s 24th birthday

She lost the game of “rock, paper, scissors” this time around, but she never once calls him Albus, it’s always Al or Albie when he’s a baby

In fact, Ginny is the reason why Al only goes by Al when he’s older

And finally, she came up with Lily Luna’s name

Harry had been gone in a mission while she was pregnant, and Luna had been a big help to Ginny, practically moving in with her twin boys

They were always going to name their daughter after Harry’s mother, but the middle name was always up in the air

(Originally it was going to be Lily Molly, after both of her grandmothers, possibly Lily Minerva after Professor McGonagall, matching Lily Evans initials)

Lily looks the most like Ginny, but she finds more similarities between herself and her boys

James reminds her a lot of Bill and Percy, even if he does have a trouble streak, he is very loving and great leader and looks after his younger cousins/siblings very well

She finds so many similarities between Al and Fred and George. Al has the same freckles across their nose like the twins, and he Carrie’s so much on his shoulders like they did during the war, she often tells Al about how he reminds her of Fred in his teen years

Lily is all Harry and her grandmothers, she’s the parts of them that clash with Ginny, causing some friction in her teen years that they fight through

Ginny loves her kids so much, she really strived to make their home as comfortable as the Burrow and loves having their kids, their friends, and all of her nieces and nephews over for the summer holidays

She just loves a full house, it brings her back to her childhood

She quit the Harpies for her kids, but looking back on it, she knew that it was time for her to commit to her family in that time

She does keep up most of the workout schedule after she leaves, even years later when her kids are grown

She and Harry like to run together, and living out in the countryside they have plenty of privacy to just go wild

She lets Harry teach the kids how to fly and ride a bike and even how to drive (Ginny never learns how to drive a car) but Ginny teaches their kids her best moves from her playing days (all three of them play chaser like her)

She has 5 godchildren, Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley, Rose Weasley, Lysander Lovegood, and August “Gus” Longbottom with Victoire and Gus being just hers, not her and Harry’s

A lot of her nieces do come to her with dating questions, but Ginny gives terrible dating advice, having been in love with only one person for most of her life

She does give great fashion and make up advice though, so win-win in her book

Ginny is just such a good person to the younger (and older) people in her life, she gives her family so much joy and love, and she has been one of my favorite characters since I first read Harry Potter

You can read more about Ginny on my Ao3!

#harry potter #ginny weasley #head canons #family #james sirius potter #albus severus potter #al potter #lily luna potter #happy birthday girl!!

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on November 4th, 1985 - Queen Story!

"One Vision" / "Blurred Vision" released in the UK

👉 The idea of writing a song together came from Freddie Mercury.

👉 For One Vision, the band decided on a joint credit, which would become the norm from next album The Miracle onwards.

🔸Cover album

The artwork for the single features a portrait taken by famous photographer David Bailey backstage at Live Aid, while the accompanying video was filmed in September at Musicland studios while the band were working on the album there. Shot over a period of weeks, the video offers a rare insight into Queen at work in the studio and also enjoying free time.

Though it appeared six months ahead of the LP, in November 1985, 'One Vision' (coupled with the non-album instrumental piece Blurred Vision) was the first single issued from the album. Produced by Queen and Mack and recorded at Musicland in Germany, it was notably the first Queen single written jointly by the band. Inspired by their acclaimed performance at Live Aid several months earlier, universally regarded as their greatest concert triumph of all, Queen returned to the studio with renewed vigour to come up with this much loved track. The artwork for the single features a portrait taken by famous photographer David Bailey backstage at Live Aid.

(➡️ source queenonline.com)

🔸"Freddie was on the phone, and he wanted to go back into the studio and do some more recording. So, in the end, we went back into the studio, and we actually recorded another single. It was his idea, really, that we could go in and actually write a song together. In fact, I was late getting to the recording sessions because I was on holiday at the time, but it's credited as a Queen composition, but to be honest, I would say it was mainly Roger, Brian, and Freddie that did most of the writing for it."

- John Deacon

Interview 1985, Greatest Video Hits 2

🔸"The original words were actually about Martin Luther King, Jr., and now I haven't got a clue what it's about! Somebody said it was about Bob Geldof, but I don't think it is."

Interviewer: Do you know the meaning of the original set of lyrics?

Roger: "No, not anymore! Well, they changed my words!"

Interviewer: Who did?

Roger: "That rotter Freddie!"

- Roger Taylor - 1986

📸 Pic: Cover Album

#freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #one vision #a kind of magic album #1985 #Spotify

[dennydraws]

Mid week!

Good Morning!! \o/ It's mid of the week! I hope it's going smooth and it's full of inspirations!! :D Work is starting to skyrocket at my end. The end of the year is always a huge high speed crunch time of gazillion holidays to prepare for. I come back home feeling so exhausted and yet so hungry to draw for myself! The struggle is real xD;; I know it's barely September but we usually start preparing for the Halloween and onwards rush as soon as August rolls. So while it is my fave time of the year with all it's cozy and colorful vibes... it's also the most exhausting one and I have to be very careful how I use my energy in the next months... ;.;

I really want to try inktober again this year but not sure what theme to pick. I don't like the official prompt list this year. For some reason, it sparked zero ideas. I'm leaning towards OCs from different story settings/worlds of mine and I think I can do 8 settings with 4 character from each one...? It should be enough :D;; but also do I want this on my plate too? 8D;; Just food for thought for me... I've prepared a tiny toned sketchbook and picked some sepia inks so I feel prepared when it comes to materials, just need to sketch the ideas before October rolls. Friends also suggest I do 31 days of Claude and Aryllin given how that's all I've been drawing lately ... but can I muster 31 ideas? 8D;; also more food for thought for me! And I need to decide quick before October sneaks on me lol

Speaking of... from recent notes/comments I take that everyone likes ... claws! hehe xD Thank you for liking these so much! I'm always smiling a ton reading the tags!

Thank you for stopping by! I hope you have great rest of the week! I hope your rolls in BG3 pass the checks, your seasonal pests in Sun Haven don't bother you much, your FF14 roulettes are smooth and you get every item you grind for! \o/

#Good Morning! #it's just me rambles in mid of the week :D

[kept-anon]

Announcement!

Hiya Folks! This week has been quite the busy one, and I have not been able to finish page 11. There will be a post next week, though.

💙

I also wanted to say that the week of Christmas and onward, I believe until mid-January, are also going to be quite hectic as we have the holidays, a wedding and vacation all coming up. I will try to keep up with the schedule, but if I can’t you know why!

💙

I can’t thank you guys enough for the support, it makes me so happy knowing people enjoy my silly little fan comic ☺️ love you all!!! And,

…more to come soon!

#anons roger rabbit 2 #comics #roger rabbit #who framed roger rabbit #wfrr