#the rhyme was unintentional i promise

[pechikka]

i really enjoy the understated trend in The Owl House that almost everytime we get a character's flashback to something we saw in a previous episode, the lines are slightly off

it always irks me when in media everyone seems to have photographic memory and latches onto the specific phrasing of whatever was said. TOH sometimes has flashbacks quote the original scene directly, but other times it has them be Just Close Enough that if you yourself probably wouldn't spot the difference unless you were paying close attention; they get the gist of it and maybe some specific turns of phrase that stuck with them, but not necessarily the exact literal wording

i especially like how understated it is. often when showing How The Character Remembers Something as different from how it actually happened, stories have the flashback go very overboard in framing things in ways that are blatantly colored by the character's perception, and while that is in itself usually a fascinating glimpse into how they percieve the world, i really like how realistically Just Subtly Different recollections are in The Owl House

#the owl house #sushi speaks #the ones that stick out most are luzs recollection of the promise to her mom and the collectors rhymes #the former is remembered as being harsher than it actually was because it was those unintentional implications that weighed on her most #and the latter because come on who the hell would remember the specific adlib poetry that a spooky shadow child said. #she remembered the vibes as more overtly sinister because i mean the whole experience was sinister #and she did remember the specific wording of 'nine bright hues' because shes smart and gets the implication that it means the covens #but i enjoy the implication that this extends to other memories we have seen #like. raine and edas meeting probably wasnt EXACTLY like she tells it down to the exact words but it was probably largely accurate #its just that its unreasonable for someone to actually remember Literally Every Word of conversations that happened an hour ago #let alone 30 years ago #and ofc amitys dad sounding far more authoritative in her memories of her parents ordering her to cut off contact with willow #we have no indication alador was ever THAT proactive in curating amitys friendgroup #but he was probably present and he probably did back odalia up on the issue #and because amity looks up to her father she internalized it as it being a decision that came from both of them #and as such in her memories theyre both firmly and decidedly ordering her to stop seeing her

[fluentmoviequoter]

Be Professional or Tell the Truth

Requested Here!

Pairing: TO!Jim Street x rookie!fem!reader

Summary: You and your TO Jim Street have an instant connection but decide to keep things professional. When you're both injured by bikers, you decide to tell the truth instead.

Warnings: kinda TO/rookie AU, brief angst, mentions of fights and injuries, fluff, life advice from Deacon

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

“Officer Jim Street.”

You fight the urge to look over your shoulder at him. Every rookie has heard Jim Street’s name, though you have no idea what to expect with him as your training officer. When you are dismissed to begin your training, to go on patrol for the first time, you take a deep breath before approaching him.

“Officer Street,” you say softly before offering your name and hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he replies. “And I know what you want to ask, so go ahead.”

“Guilty. Who presses your uniform? Because those are the sharpest creases I’ve ever seen.”

You know what he expected; it’s the question every rookie has: ‘Why be a TO when you could have been S.W.A.T.?’ When Street smiles at your reply, you know it will be a long few months with him. You already feel a unique connection to Street, and the fact that he’s talking to you like a friend rather than a rookie makes you think he feels it, too.

Street tilts his head, gesturing for you to follow him. You walk past a small group of officers and assume they’re S.W.A.T. by how intently they watch Street. Unknown to you, they can also see something between you and Jim Street.

“I will never understand his decision,” Tan says while he watches Street pat your shoulder. “I can see it’ll work out as usual, though.”

“You know what they say, Tan: those who can’t do, teach,” Hondo teases. “What you see, Deac?”

Deacon shrugs. He sees something he recognizes in how Street looks at you because he looks at Annie and his kids like that. “He’s not just her TO.”

“Meaning?” Hondo inquires.

“You’ll understand… someday.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s a code 3?” Street asks as you drive through downtown Los Angeles.

“Emergency, proceed with lights and sirens,” you answer. “Code 2 is urgent but not necessarily lights and sirens.”

Street nods. He has been quizzing you about police radio and penal codes all morning to ensure you know the basics. Your first day goes well, and with Jim Street as your TO, you don’t understand how anyone could quit because of their training officer. Maybe he’s just one of the good ones.

“End of shift,” Street announces at the end of the day. “You did well.”

“Thank you, sir. Can I- can I ask the obvious question?”

“Sure,” he replies with a smile.

“I’ve heard, like everyone else, that you were handpicked for a S.W.A.T. team. Why teach when you could breach?”

You smile at your unintentional rhyme and unconsciously lean closer to Street as he answers.

“I tried. That’s the part that most people don’t know, is that I did join the team and I tried. Wasn’t cut out for it, yet, I suppose. I had some growing up to do.”

“And what better way to grow up than to walk rookies through it? Have someone you can yell at while growing up together, right?”

“You know, most rookies are scared of their TOs and wouldn’t talk to them like this,” Street points out. His smile tells you that he doesn’t mind, though.

“My apologies, sir. I promise to be nothing but professional moving forward. If you answer one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not supposed to remove my firearm from the holster unless I intend to.”

Street rubs the skin between his eyes as he sighs your name.

“Sorry, sir. In all seriousness, do you think you’d ever go back to S.W.A.T.? After you grow up and are cut out for it. I think you already are, but you know yourself better than I do, of course.”

“Maybe,” Street answers. “But I’ve got to get you through the hardest months of your career first. We’ll see how I feel once you’re in short sleeves.”

“When you talk about me wearing less clothing, it’s a bit hard to remain professional, sir,” you tease.

“Get out of the car.”

You laugh as you obey his demand, and he’s shaking his head in amusement. Immediately, you know that you and Street will both end up where you want to be in the department; you’re worried that you won’t be able to remain professional for that long. Whatever you felt for Street this morning has been multiplied by a hundred after a few hours in a police cruiser with him, so you have your work cut out for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Streeter!” Luca yells. “We’re going out for pizza, want to come?”

“Sure,” Street agrees.

“Want to invite your rookie?” Hondo asks.

“No, dinner together is not very professional.”

“That’s the route you’re taking. Professionalism?” Deacon says with a knowing look.

“What does that mean?”

Street and Deacon begin walking together, following the rest of 20-David to the parking lot.

“It means that you’re doomed. You can be professional or tell the truth, but those don’t coexist in your situation.”

“So, by doing my job well I’m lying?”

“To yourself at least.”

“Thanks for the life advice, Deac, but I think I can figure this out.”

“Sure, you can, kid.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Deac. I can’t believe you make Annie deal with this.”

“Mmhmm,” Deacon replies. “And I’m sure you were nothing but serious alone in that car all day. If I requested to review the cam footage, I wouldn’t see a hint of flirtation, right?”

“Deacon, nothing is going to happen. We’re both just working toward the career we want, okay?”

“Okay. I understand not wanting someone else in your business, but if you decide you do want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The next few weeks working with Street are busy and covered with faux professionalism. Your interactions are nearly scripted with how much you think before speaking. Talking about work, being quizzed by Street, and talking about your personal life under no circumstances is the only way to remain professional. You have dozens of questions you’d like to ask, but your connection is surviving somewhere under your TO/rookie relationship. If you want to have a future of being friends, or more, with Street in the future, you have to look at him as your TO and nothing more.

“415g, multiple 417s, 664 and possible 187 near your location,” dispatch radios.

“10-4, responding,” Street replies. He turns toward you to ask, “Codes?”

After flipping the switches for the lights and sirens, you answer, “415g, gang disturbance, 417s are people with firearms, 664 attempted murder and, uh, possible 187… possible homicide.”

“What question could you ask?”

“Gang disturbance,” you realize. “Is it a known gang?”

Street looks at the report and nods to himself. “Biker gang,” he reads. “In a known biker bar.”

“What’s our approach?”

“You tell me.”

You think for a moment before asking, “Limited entry? We could check out the situation and back out if we need to wait for backup.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Street calls for backup anyway, but you pull up beside the bar a moment later. You fall into line behind Street, holding your service weapon beside your hip, and he walks into the bar's front door.

“LAPD!” he yells.

Even standing beside him, you can barely hear Street over the noise of the brawl. At least ten bikers are fighting in the middle of the barroom floor. Table and chairs are scattered, and glass bottles and mugs are shattered on nearly every surface.

“LAPD!” Street tries again.

“Do something, man! They’re gonna kill ‘im!” one of the men at the side of the bar yells.

“Who, sir?” you ask.

“My brother’s in there!”

Street holsters his weapons quickly and removes his belt before passing it to you. You know he has a soft spot, an inherent need to protect people, but he doesn’t stand a chance against these bikers.

“Street, don’t! Just wait for our backup!” you implore.

“They’re two minutes out and we don’t have time. Just stay back, no matter what,” Street replies.

You watch, helpless, as Street pulls one of the guys back and is immediately pulled into the fight. When a man is pushed out of the circle, you rush to him and pull him back farther.

“Dude!” the man from the bar calls. “I thought you were a goner.”

“I feel like I am,” he groans.

“Help is on the way, sir,” you promise.

As you turn back to find Street, you can see him on the floor and rush toward the biker closest to you. Sirens sound outside before you can do anything to help, so you run outside and direct the responding officers into the bar. After you pull one of the bikers off balance, you push into the circle and kneel beside Street.

“I told you to stay back,” he says. 

Street has been thoroughly beaten up, and his nose and lip are bloody as he speaks. You’ve been worried about him since he laid a hand on the first biker, but now that you see how bad it is, your worry spikes.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” you say.

“I’m fine,” Street insists as he struggles to sit up.

You place a hand on Street’s upper back and help him move. Once he's upright, you see a gash across his cheekbone, likely from a ring. Pulling the bottom of your sleeve over your wrist, you gently press the fabric against Street’s face.

“I said I’m fine,” Street grumbles.

“Just- just let me help,” you argue softly. “It’s bleeding a lot. If you want to be a brave guy and refuse the hospital, fine, but don’t bleed out from a completely avoidable head wound.”

Street can hear your worry in your rambling and lets you help rather than argue with you. He knows what it is like to be worried about someone, and though he doesn’t need it, he appreciates your concern.

“Thanks,” he says when you pull your sleeve back to look at his face. “But you’re going to have to change out of that biohazard now.”

You huff, concerned by his other injuries. “Stop trying to get my shirt off,” you whisper.

You accept a cloth from a passing paramedic and wipe the dried blood from Street’s skin. When your gaze drops, your eyes widen. Street’s knuckles are busted open, which you expected, but a deep red mark surrounds one of his forearms. 

“What happened there?” you ask.

When his brows furrow, you point to it with your chin.

“One of them grabbed me, I guess,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Because you’re still on an adrenaline high. Let a paramedic look, or…”

“Or what?” Street asks, smiling up at you.

“I’ll- I don’t know, I’ll stop being professional.”

“That doesn’t sound like a threat,” Street murmurs, but he calls for a paramedic anyway.

“Officer Street,” you begin. You have to fill him in on the severity of the situation. “There’s three dead bodies in the back room. It seems like a rival biker gang came in and killed them but finding them is what started this fight.”

“Then we need to find the rival gang, the killers,” Street adds as he uses his uninjured hand to push himself up.

“Street, be careful!”

“I’m fine. Hey, look at me,” Street demands. “I’m okay. I appreciate the concern, but those dead bikers back there need it more. Let’s work for them, and then we’ll worry about us.”

You nod slowly. A paramedic wraps Street’s arm before you leave. He is clearly in pain, and it gets worse as his adrenaline drops. You try to focus on finding the other bikers, but you are still concerned about Street.

“Why did you jump in?” you ask once you’re back in the car.

“Do you want the truth or the acceptable cop’s duty answer?”

“The truth.”

“I had a brother. And we fought for each other constantly. So, when that guy said his brother was in there, it was like my brother was in there.”

You nod and fall silent. Returning to your previous professionalism covers your worries, but your continued glances at Street are not hidden. He stops caring, too touched by your concern to insist he is okay again.

“Street,” you say before pointing to a group of bikers sitting in a dark alley.

After rolling the window down slightly, you can hear them yelling about something. Street radios for backup while you watch the group. When one of them steps back, you see a gun tucked into his waistband.

“One of them has a gun,” you tell Street without turning around. “I have an idea.”

“No,” Street answers.

“You didn’t even let me-“

“Does it involve you going over there alone?”

“Maybe.”

“Then no.”

You wait for Street to return his attention to the mobile computer on the dash to pull your belt off. When you begin unbuttoning your long-sleeved shirt, Street turns toward you quickly.

“What are you doing?” Street demands.

“I’m getting answers. We need to know if these are our killers, and I think I can do that.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“You look like a cop.”

“I look like your superior, and I’m saying no.”

“Street, please.”

Street’s jaw clenches, and he looks over at the bikers before sighing.

“You have two minutes and then I’m coming over there for you,” he says.

“Deal. But a full two minutes, Street.”

You exit the car and cross in front of the alley twice before turning into it.

“Hi,” you call. “Sorry. I’m lost. There’s a bar that one of my friends invited me to and I was just wondering if you could help me find it.”

The man with the gun turns toward you and smiles as he looks you up and down.

“Sure, baby. What’s the bar? I can even give you a ride if you’d like to arrive in style,” he replies.

The other bikers laugh at his comment, and you giggle nervously. You say the name of the bar where you found the other bikers this morning and watch them look at one another.

“Girl like you don’t need to go to a bar like that,” the man says as he steps toward you. “Why do you wanna go there?”

“I just got invited. My friend has a boyfriend nicknamed Bear Warden and he invited us.”

At the mention of another biker’s name, several of the men step forward. You step back, but the man closest to you grabs your forearm and pulls you toward him. Tripping over his foot, you twist and land on your back.

“I’m sorry,” you begin.

“Ain’t nobody know Bear Warden ‘cept the other bikers, which means you’re either lying or you’re a cop.”

“Do I look like a cop?” you demand.

“You will in a minute,” one of the other men threatens before kicking the side of your leg.

As you pull your arms over your face, they give you a version of the treatment Street got in the bar this morning. Footsteps echo in the alleyway, and you hear Street yell for everyone to freeze before a fist hits the underside of your jaw.

More blue and red lights illuminate the alley, and you stand slowly as a group of police officers approach and begin arresting the bikers. Street runs to your side and lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Your turn to go the hospital,” he says with his voice strained.

“I don’t want to. I’m fine,” you promise. “They didn’t even hit me that hard; probably their act of kindness for the week.”

Street nods as his eyes drop. Your roles have reversed, and now you are receiving Street’s concern. He seems less inclined to remain professional as he fusses over you.

“Then we’re going back to the station and you’re seeing a medic.”

“Street,” you interrupt. “I’m fine. But these guys were just gang members. We need to find the leader before he gets away.”

“He would have put the hit out on the others, more than likely. You sure you feel up to this?”

“Do you?”

“Better than ever. Let’s go solve a case.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you return to the station with the leader of LA’s leading biker gang in custody, you struggle to remain professional. You want to hug Street and thank him for everything he’s done for you today, but you remember what you said in your first week about keeping things professional. You enter the locker room and change in silence before exiting the station. Street is standing at the back of his car, and he calls you over when he sees you.

“Are you okay?” you ask once you’re beside him.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he responds.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending to be professional when we both clearly want more.”

You nod and tug on your fingers. “What do you want to do instead, then? Ignore it?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner.”

“Like a date?”

“Like a date. As long as that’s what you want, too.”

You sigh before saying, “That’s exactly what I want, Officer Street.”

“Right now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” you reply.

Street offers his hand and helps you into his car. You make quite the couple, you think, sporting matching bruises from a run-in with rival biker gangs and sharing soft touches that avoid said bruises. Street holds your hand as he drives to Santa Monica for dinner; he doesn’t want to go to another restaurant or bar in Los Angeles for a few days and would like to make better memories with you.

“If we’re not pretending to be professional anymore, off the clock at least so we don’t get fired, does that mean I can kiss you after dinner if I want?” you ask as he parks.

“I think maybe we should wait on that,” he replies.

“Take things slow,” you agree with a nod.

“Oh, no, I’d kiss you before dinner, but we both got punched in the face today and I think it would hurt.”

You laugh as every semblance of professionalism is thrown aside as you enjoy a date night with Street. When Street drops you off at the station after dinner to get your car, you promise to kiss him after your next date.

“We’ll take the easy calls to make sure we can,” he agrees as he hugs you.

“You told her the truth,” Deacon says when he walks out of S.W.A.T. HQ.

“What does that mean?” you ask Street.

“That he realized professionalism has no place in a relationship. Not the other way around,” Deacon explains before winking at you and walking away.

“You, me, dinner and a kiss on Friday?” you ask Street.

“As long as you remember that I’m your superior from now until then,” he counters.

“We’ll see.” 

#jim street x reader #hanna writes✯ #jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader #to!jim street

[silentmoths]

A cold cure for Insomnia

Hey look, it's not a genshin fic

wild huh?

I'll preface this with 2 things: 1: I am, for some reason, incredibly nervous abt posting a fic that is 100% outside my wheelhouse. I've never actually posted anything but genshin fic since I started uploading a couple years ago, only like, one friend has ever seen anything else from me so this is a bit of a step. 2: this is nothing put pure, indulgent lesbian bullshit and I'll also note that I have no idea how to write f/f smut, so be gentle with me.

If you're only here for my genshin stuff, have a nice day and we'll be back to regularly scheduled bullshittery shortly. Until then, please enjoy me, self indulging over my pokemon wife.

Elite 4 Rika x Fem!Reader 7.4k words, not proofread, we die like prof. sada

NSFW, honestly it's just a whole lot of fkn smut with some fluff sprinkled in there, praise kink, hair pulling, use of toys, oral, tribbing, koraidon being an unintentional wingman.

What a day.

Sometimes you wonder how Nemona did it, rushing around doing champion things all the time. Honestly, ever since you’d beat Geeta all those years ago while you were still in school, it felt like every day was ‘go here, check this gym, go there, check that gym.’ And you were getting a little tired of it.

Especially recently, with Nemona currently travelling somewhere in the Kalos region doing Arceus knows what, and Geeta being stuck in paperwork hell with the Academy preparing for their annual treasure hunt, you’d been swamped, needing to go and check every. Single. Gym. to make sure they were all up to par.

(who knows maybe this year a new student would claim the champion title and you could retire? That’d be nice.)

Montenevera was the last stop on your trip, and while the vibe was always lovely in the snowy mountain town…you’d never been particularly fond of the cold… Only made worse by Rhyme and her gang of ghost pokemon sending a particular shiver down your spine that you just couldn’t shake.

Night had fallen by the time you finally walked out the sliding doors of the League building, only to be greeted by your one nemesis. 

Fucking snow.

Here, on the outskirts of Mesagoza.

You wanted to scream, but that wasn’t very becoming of a League champion now was it?

So with a sigh, you reach for a specific pokeball on your hip. The trek home wasn’t far, but in the sleet and cold, you knew it’d be faster if you rode.

Koraidon however, apparently had other ideas. 

The moment his feet touch the cold ground, he yelps and backs right up and into the League building once again.

“Koraidon…c’mon bud, we just need to get home.” you sigh “I know you’re tired too…I promise to make you the best dang sandwich when we get home…yeah?” 

The paradox pokemon simply looks at you with wide, sad eyes and a low chitter before he willingly returns to his ball. 

Great….just great. Not even your most reliable pokemon was willing to brave even more snow, not after today.

“Woah-ho, what’s gotten under his scales?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, snapping you from your despondent staring at Koraidon’s pokeball. The familiar click of dress boots give her away before Rika steps into view.

How she always managed to look so very casual while pulling off suspenders was beyond you, but every time you were anywhere in the vicinity of the first member of the Elite four, you found your mouth running dry and your mind wandering very far away from here. She tilts her head at you and it takes her waving her hand in front of your eyes to realise you were absolutely staring at her.

Way to go.

“Woah, you alright? You look wiped.” She comments, her brow furrowing as she looks you up and down. 

“A-ah…yeah, sorry…s’been a long few days…” you eventually mumble, turning your gaze to the floor as you clip Koraidon’s ball back to your belt with the others. “Geeta’s had me checking and rechecking all the gyms to make sure they’re ready for the next treasure hunt…we just got back from Montenevera…cold…tired…and now it’s snowing a-and Koraidon is just…too tired to take me home..” 

A slender, comforting hand gently rests between your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles and it takes everything in you to not crumble apart there, man, how desperate did you have to be to nearly cry at friendly touch? “You live all the way on the other side of town, dontcha?” She asks, her free hand raising to push some of her green hair from her face as the look of worry on her features only seems to grow “Ain’t no way you’re making that walk in this state…”

“I’ll live…” you sigh, hanging your head and readjusting your bag as you lift your head to look at the snow flurry that was definitely only getting heavier.

“Nah, C’mon, you can crash at mine tonight, it’s closer.” Rika chimes, patting you on the back and passing you a wink before she heads out the door. 

You blink, watching her back in silence, there was no way she had just invited you to spend the night, absolutely no way. You needed to go see a doctor and maybe get your hearing checked-

“You comin? Or did Rhyme’s Toxtricity paralyse you up there in Montenevera?” She calls, stopping and looking over her shoulder. There's a…a look in her eyes that you can't quite make out, but it makes your heart jackhammer just that little bit, especially when she turns and offers her hand “C’mon, let's get you home, yeah?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you blink at her outstretched, gloved hand and then up at her smile.

Arceus, you were weak…how you ever made champion when you can’t even look the first of the Elite four in the eye without feeling your cheeks heat, you’ll never know.

Finally, you reach out and take her hand, not expecting her to tug you into her side, arm draping over your shoulders as she starts walking again, all but pulling you along with her. Her hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she shares her body warmth with you on the trek down the mountainside towards the tunnel. For someone so slim, she was…much warmer than you expected, and you find yourself sleepily zoning out, simply focusing on one food in front of the other.

Thankfully, Rika was pretty alright with not needing to make small talk. This wasn’t the first time you had both just…existed in the same space in silence…to be fair the silence on your part before was because you had no idea how to talk to her without muddling your words like a lovestruck idiot, and perhaps that was still the case. Regardless, you play up the ‘tired’ aspect and simply bask in being close.

The unfortunate downside to the tunnel from Mesagoza up to the League headquarters, was the wind. Right now? Frigid and inhospitable, the icy chill stinging at your eyes, at least until your companion comes to your rescue, shifting you behind her taller frame and blocking the wind, hand moving from your shoulder to your hand, giving that same reassuring squeeze as she looks over her shoulder, small smile on her face.

You swear you can feel her thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles as she bends her arm behind her back to keep a secure hold on you.

Rika…she really was something else, something you didn’t deserve.

The moment the tunnel spits you both out into Mesagoza’s side streets, she takes an immediate right. Had you been walking home, you would have had to take a left and trudge all the way to the other side of the city, past the academy and almost to the pokemon centre by the west gate. 

The flurry of snow was only getting worse, you can feel your clothes growing heavy and damp, and the concrete was getting slippery. Thankfully it’s not all that long before she tugs you into an apartment building and into a blessedly warm elevator. Holding you steady as your world begins to spin and blur at the edges. Perhaps you really had pushed it a bit too much today, hitting Cascarrafa, Glaseado and Montenevera in a single day…

“Hey.” Rika murmurs as your head rests against her shoulder “Stay with me, nearly there, kay? We’ll get you inside n’warmed up, yeah?” 

“Mmh…kay..” you manage to mumble back, simply enjoying being held, even if it was light. Her arm wrapped around your torso as you just breath. She smells like Cedarwood…and maybe a hint of Ozone…might have something to do with her Camerupt… but it’s not an unwelcome scent at all. You only get a few moments to enjoy it before the elevator chimes, and you’re gently tugged out into, and down a hallway. Rika’s free hand fishing her keys from her pocket. She has to let you go to get the door open, muttering something about a stuck lock and needing to call maintenance, but with a bodily shove of her shoulder, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Her apartment is blessedly warm, she must have left the heater on when she left for work this morning, because the warm air nearly takes you out before you even enter the door, needing to lean against the frame with a relieved sigh, knowing that even if you had made it home tonight, your heater had definitely not been on, and hadn't been for several days.

Rika only laughs softly, gently pulling you inside so she could close the door. 

“Here…lets get you to the bathroom and into the shower…you’re absolutely freezing.” She mutters. Half-carrying you down the hall. Her apartment is…honestly what you expected. Neat enough, but not overly tidied. Lived in, comfortable, Inviting. Shades of soft greens and earthy tones scattered everywhere, a few large pokemon beds scattered about for her pokemon to enjoy outside of their balls. The only things really alluding to the fact that Rika was far more well off than most had to be the massive TV mounted to the living room wall, and what looked like one of the newer game consoles…the ones that had been super hard to get because of a manufacturing supply issue…fancy.

You don't quite register that she’s slowly pulling your clothes away from you until she’s already got your beanie, scarf and jacket off, each item thrown into her laundry hamper, at some point she’d also already started the shower for you, the room already beginning to fill with steam. You snap back to reality when theres a gently tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your permission to remove it. 

“O-oh, I uh…s-sorry…” you mumble, raising your arms above your head anyway, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as she pulls the item away, the tank top beneath still leaving you modest enough to not die on the spot. “I-I can handle it from here…” 

“You sure?” she murmurs softly “S’no big deal to me.” 

“Y-yeah…I’ll be fine…thanks.” 

You watch as the tiniest hint of…disappointment? Flickers across her features…no, surely you were imagining…but she doesn’t push it any further.

“Alrighty, I’ll go find something you can wear for the night and then throw your clothes in the laundry once you’re in the shower, yeah?”

“Mm…t-thank you Rika…you really…you didn’t have to-” you mumble, unable to meet her gaze, but she just smiles and shrugs, her fingers slowly pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“And what if I wanted to? You look like you need a break.” She retorts, sliding past you and continuing down the hall before you can reply.

Soon enough, the rest of your clothes join the laundry hamper and you slip into the shower, beneath the scalding spray and you want to cry all over again, your fingers begin to prick with pins and needles as they slowly regain feeling, serves you right for leaving your gloves at home.

A few minutes into your shower, you hear the distinctive, soft thud of cloth hitting the counter. “Here’s some jammies, sorry if they’re a bit big.” Rika chuckles before vanishing back down the hall. You almost don’t want to get out of the hot spray, especially not once you start giving yourself a good scrub down with whatever fancy-branded body wash she kept in here.

At least now you know what to buy that would make you smell like cedarwood…

After you feel the last of the day’s grime finally wash from your body, you shut off the water and poke your head out of the shower. Thankfully Rika had already left a towel waiting atop the clothes she’d sacrificed to you. It’s as you’re drying off that you finally get a good look in the mirror and…wow…

Now you think you understand why she’d been so concerned…you look like you had two black eyes, that's how tired you were…

–

You find Rika relaxing in the living room watching TV when you finally emerge, changed into a fresh set of long pyjamas and- you can’t even stop the giggle when you notice the clodsire slippers.

“Where on earth did you get those?” you ask, pointing to said slippers, earning a grin and a snicker from their wearer.

“Larry actually.” She chuckles “secret santa a couple years back.” With that, she pats the spot on the couch next to her, and you, now warm and content, plop down beside her without a second thought, leaning against the arm of the couch with a content sigh. “How’re you feelin?” she asks, idly flipping through the channels.

“Mmh…much better…thank you again…I…I don’t think I would have made it home…not in this weather.”

“Oh I coulda told you that, Honey. In fact I’m pretty sure I did.” She snickers, her lips quirking at the side when she notes the way your cheeks flush pink at the pet name. “I’ve ordered some takeout, s’too cold to go out n’ grab food...and I’m usually too beat after work to bother cooking.” 

“Then how the hell do you stay so skinny?” You snicker at her, receiving a wink in response.

“Oh I take my cardio seriously.” is all the response she gives before she finally decides there is nothing decent on regular TV, and switches over to a streaming service, throwing on some random popular movie. 

Once again, you both settle into a comfortable silence, Rika rising from the couch half an hour in to fetch the dinner left at her door before returning, at some point with a blanket in tow. You sit up a little as she places the food on the coffee table and plops down right beside you this time, draping the blanket over both your laps. It’s not until you take the first mouthful of that delightful galarian curry, that you realise just how hungry you are, barely paying attention to the movie as you scarf down your meal, fighting back tears at Rika’s acts of kindness for the third time today, and only seemingly taking a breath once you’ve finished your meal, leaning back into the arm of the couch with a content sigh, only to squeak when Rika finishes her own a few minutes later and bodily leans into your side, head to your chest and arms slowly wrapping around your torso as she pulls her legs up and gets comfortable beside you with a content huff.

Arceus she was just so…so handsome, breathtaking… and she was just…cuddling you like you’d both been doing this kind of thing for years… it was sudden, but it didn’t feel wrong…and slowly, you bring your arm down from where it had been splayed along the back of the couch, to gently card through her hair, pulling some of her bangs from her face and tucking them behind her ear.

“Hmm…you should get some sleep, kiddo…arceus knows you need it.” She hums, glancing up at you from her spot on your chest. You know she’s right, and she doesn’t complain when you shift, even reaching behind her to hand you an extra cushion to tuck behind your head as you lay out along the couch, Rika coming to rest between your legs, head once again leaning onto your chest, her extra warmth and weight just adding another layer of comfort as you both go back to watching the movie.

Now usually, usually you were the kind of person who could drop off watching a movie quite easily. But on very rare occasions, you would find yourself struck with bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately for you, they always seemed to happen after periods of prolonged stress.

Like needing to go and personally make sure every gym was up to standards… 

Before you even knew it, the credits begin to roll, you’re exhausted, but offensively awake, to the point where even Rika is surprised, blinking those beautiful crimson eyes up at you. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asks with a tilt of her head. 

“Sometimes Insomnia is a bitch.” You concede, she makes a noise of understanding. 

“Ah, yeah…I know that feeling…” she admits, staring up at you, to the point you feel your cheeks heating again, and you avert your gaze “but, thankfully, I know the best solution for that.” She adds, shimmying to push herself up on her hands and knees, looming over you, some of her hair, having been free’d of its usual ponytail, cascading over her shoulders to tickle at your face.

“O-oh? And…what might that be?” that look in her eyes is back, the one you couldn’t quite read properly back at HQ, but here, with her inches from your face? It’s loud and clear.

Hunger. 

“Do you trust me?” She asks, her lips quirking into a smirk as you shrink beneath her. 

“W-would I have followed you home if I hadn’t?” you manage to squeak back at her, nowhere near as confident and commanding as it had sounded in your head. It’s enough to make her chuckle, and you watch in a daze as she licks her lips, a single hand coming up to softly grip your chin, lifting your face. 

“Hm, touche…” and with that, her lips are on yours, she swallows the squeaking gasp that you let out, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to send her tongue in to explore. To you it feels like electricity, like you’d just taken a thunderbolt to the senses; She’s soft, gentle, probing, gauging your reactions. Apparently she must have liked what she got, because she deepens the kiss, nipping at your lips as one hand tangles in your hair, rougher. You like this a bit better. 

You’re the one who needs to come up for air first, pulling your face away with a loud, breathless gasp as you try to catch your breath. 

The look you find waiting for you is…predatory, is the only word that comes to mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was already between your knees, you’d be squeezing your thighs together so tight, because it’s doing something…funny to your insides.

“Hmm…you ever done anything like…this before?” She asks, voice low and husky and you’re very ready to pass away, but you manage a shake of your head and the grin you get in response? 

It’s like a Mightyena who’s just found it’s lunch. She was going to eat you, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Well then, we’d best move…couch sex is great n’ all, but I’d rather your first time be somewhere a little more comfortable.” she remarks, pulling away. You whine at the loss of her extra warmth, but that whine quickly turns to a yelp when she takes your arm and drags you up with a strength she hadn’t shown you before. Always full of tricks, Rika was. 

The admittedly short trek down the hall to her room is…hindered. Every few steps you’d find yourself pressed against the wall, Rika towering over you as hands tangle in your hair and lips crash to yours as she steals what little breath you manage to catch before you’re separating, taking a couple more steps and repeating the process. 

Right outside the bedroom door, the slim trainer actually lifts you up the wall a ways, enough so that your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, nothing but her pyjama pants and the thin boxer’s you’d borrowed off her keeping you apart, but already entirely too much clothing in the way. You moan loudly when she rolls her hips into yours, the sensations all new and overwhelming, but you don't think you’ve ever felt this good before in your life.

Her hands find your ass as she pulls back from the wall, holding you to her firmly as you both finally stumble into her room, only given a second to brace before she’s throwing you down into the blankets, and even less time before she’s on you, grinning and hungry as hands fly up your top, pushing it up your chest so she can finally access some skin.

“A-ah! Rika-” her name was lost on her for the time being, far too engrossed in leaving open mouthed kisses along your chest and stomach, mouth latching over one of your nipples while her hand works at the other. Your own hands twisting and clenching at her blanket, your squirming only made worse when she shifts again, her knee pressing between your legs and right against your aching cunt. 

At some point, she manages to wrangle the top off you completely, throwing it to the void so her hands can explore the expanse of your chest properly, she leaves no patch of skin untouched, no freckle or blemish uncharted, and when your whining begins to pitch as the nipple she sucks on becomes too sensitive, she gets go, only to latch to your collar bone instead, hands roaming your body.

You let out an embarrassingly pitiful mewl when her fingers dip beneath the waistband of your borrowed boxers, and you immediately bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Rika, apparently, doesn’t like that. Her hand retreating from its place as she props herself on the other, pulling away entirely, even shifting her knee back, depriving you of that delicious friction. Your hand is tugged away from your mouth and pinned to your side, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Don’t.” She scolds quietly “I wanna hear you.”

“B-but-” 

“Don’t be a brat.” she interjects, eyes flashing dangerously “I know that aint’ you… you wanna be a good girl, yeah?”

Oh.

Oh no.

That shouldn’t have such an effect on you. 

There’s no hiding it from Rika either. Her smirk widens as she stares smugly down at your trembling frame. 

“Oh? You like that huh? Well then, are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” she hums “I’ll make sure you feel real good, yeah?”

“M-mhm…” is all you manage to squeak out, earning a raised eyebrow.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you there, princess.” Rika snickers. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the humiliation burns your ears and makes your insides squirm in a way you didn’t think would feel as good as it did.

“I-I’ll be good…” you whisper, your hands twisting into the sheets as Rika hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek. 

“That’s a good girl.” she purrs “you just relax n’let me handle things, kay?”

You actually sigh into the kiss when she does finally return to what she was doing, your arms wrapping over her shoulders as she shifts back into place, hands lightly roaming your skin, teasing and testing sensitive spots, occasionally getting a little rougher, just enough to rile you a little more, before settling again. Before she can get back into your pants however, you tug at her shirt, whining into her mouth; thankfully, Rika is smart, she gets your hint and pulls away just long enough to tug her top off.

Her skin is soft, smooth, a few burn scars and claw marks here and there as she settles beside you, one of your thighs caught between her knees as she wraps an arm under your shoulders, pulling you close to her chest as the other hand grazes southward, she doesn't dally once her fingers breech the waistband of your boxers, quickly locating the sticky mess between your thighs with a pleased hum.

“Mmm, look at that…” she hums as a pair of fingers easily delve through your pussy, retracting from your boxers entirely so she can admire the glistening slick dripping from her fingers. “You’re so wet already, honey…” Rika makes sure you watch as she pops those two fingers into her mouth and you squeak, face burning in embarrassment. 

She doesn’t give you much time to react, the moment she pulls those slender fingers from her lips, she shifts, your boxers are wrenched off and you’re left bare before her as she parts your knees to settle on her belly between your thighs, eyes flashing devilishly in the low light, and hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive parts.

“R-Rika-”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you into my bed.” She rasps between open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, arms wrapping around to keep yout hips in place as she takes her sweet time. “When was it… mmh, yeah I think it was…two years ago? Koraidon suddenly came out of his ball all sorry lookin’ in the middle of a meeting…”

Oh Arceus, you remember that meeting… Perhaps you’d been a little soft with Koraidon…he’d learnt that if he looked sorry enough, you’d make him a sandwich… but it was getting awfully hard to focus when a warm tongue suddenly licks a flat stripe into your cunt, and lips seal around your clit, shocking you from your thoughts as her strong hands prevent you from accidentally crushing her head with your thighs.

“Without even stopping to think, you got up n’ you got him what he needed.” she whispers into your thigh once she finally pulls away “middle of a meetin… n’ heres our newest champion, making a sandwich for her pokemon.” she chuckles “I dunno…something about how casually you just…did that…I’ve wanted this ever since but Geeta’s always had you running all over the place, pinning you down has always been impossible…least until today.” 

“Rika…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else… you deserve to relax.” For a brief moment, she flashes you a genuine smile, not a hint of that handsome smirk that you’re so used to; just genuine warmth before she tugs you down by your hips and returns her mouth to you, long strokes of her tongue between your folds that leave any words dead in your throat, and your hands tangling in her hair for any semblance of control. You didn’t want to hurt her, but when she sucks harshly on your clit, you cry out and yank on her hair a little harder than you’d meant to, any apology dying when she groans and shudders, her eyes rolling back for a moment. 

“You’re killin me, kid.” She sighs in the brief moment she brings herself to separate from you “keep doin that and you might end up in trouble.”

It sounds like a threat… but the way she suddenly looks so…debauched, has you tugging at her silky hair again when a pair of fingers slowly begin to prod at your core, spurring her on as you squirm and mewl.

Eventually, you feel something deep in your belly, different from before, something building that has your breath coming harshly as you try to squirm away, stopped by a firm hand pressing just below your navel.

“R-rika-! s-somethings…I-I feel-” you whimper as the pressure builds, you expect her to pull away in concern, but her eyes flash with realisation, and she only seems to double down, her long, slender fingers curling inside of you and brushes against…something. Something that has you nearly scream her name as that pressure snaps and your world turns white, fingers curling harshly into her hair.

Somewhere, through the haze, you feel a weight resting on you, and a hand resting on your cheek, but it takes a little longer for your ears to finally stop ringing and realise Rika was gently calling your name.

“There you are..” She chuckles softly as you finally remember how to uncross your eyes and look at her. “That looked intense…you ok?” 

“Uh…uh-huh…” you respond dumbly, resting your cheek against her hand “what…what was that..?”

Rika’s lips pull into a thin, concerned line as her brows furrow.

“They really didn’t teach sex-ed at the academy, did they?” She asks.

“I-I mean…they did…s’just…basic..” you mumble as you slowly come down from…whatever high that just was.

“Obviously.” she sighs with a shake of her head “Was that seriously your first orgasm?” 

Oh.

“oh…I uh…yeah…I guess it was.” and the humiliation was back. You knew what an orgasm was in theory…you’d just..never bothered to try it yourself. 

“Well…I suppose I should count myself honoured then.” She snickers, leaning in to kiss at your undoubtedly sweaty forehead. “Couple more of those N’ I think you’ll be sleeping like a Komala.” 

“M-more…?” you whisper, she laughs, catching your wide-eyed expression.

“Oh yeah, that was just foreplay, sweet thing…you did so well.” 

And the praise was back, despite the way your joints feel molten hot, you still manage to squirm beneath her. 

“I- s-should I…um…h-help you now?” your question is barely a whisper, all nerves…you have no idea how she did what she did but it felt…wrong to take and not give. 

But Rika only shakes her head. 

“What’d I say before?” she chides, slowly sitting back on her knees “Your one job tonight is to relax…I’ve got you.” 

“But…what about you-”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll get off eventually.” She chuckles, smirking when you sigh and relent. “I want one more outta you before then though.” She mumbles as she shifts out from between your knees, sitting and reaching for her bedside table as you stare at the ceiling, basking in the shaky afterglow. 

“D-did you…mean what you said before?” you mumble more at the ceiling than anything “that you’ve been…waiting for this..?” 

“What reason do I have to lie to you?” She chuckles as she fiddles with…whatever she’s fiddling with. “You earned my respect the day you beat me when you first took on the Elite four, my admiration when you beat Geeta and became a champion…”

“God…those stupid glasses haunt me.” you snicker, remembering rather vividly being sat, alone in a room with Rika when you had first taken on the league, you’d read up plenty on other pokemon leagues in other regions, but never once had any of them had an interview-style exam right at the start.

“Hey, I like my glasses, thank you very much!” Rika snorts as she finally shifts back over, pulling you close with one arm as something…new slides between your legs, a quick glance and- oh.

You never really took Rika for the kind to own toys…but…at the same time, you never really gave it much thought. It’s nothing extreme, but to you, who’s never had anything other than a pair of slender fingers inside you very recently, the silicone toy is still rather intimidating. 

“This ok?” She asks, mouthing at your neck and shoulder “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I…I do..just..nervous is all.” 

“Mmh, good girl, so trusting…” there she goes again with the pet name that makes you shiver, not helped by the cold press of lubricated silicone against your still-sensitive cunt, gently pressing just that little bit further as Rika mouths your neck, nibbling down on the juncture between throat and shoulder, an adequate distraction as she pulls your leg out of the way with her own and sinks the toy in, slowly, almost tender as she coos comforts, coaxing you to relax, praise falling from her easily. 

“Look at that, you took it so well.” She praises once the toy reaches the hilt “fuck, you’re making me regret not buying a harness… might just have to pick one up so I can fuck you proper, yeah?” 

You can't even bring yourself to respond to her dirty talk, blinking hazily downwards as you gently press a hand just below your belly-button, taking the hint, Rika pulls the toy almost all the way out and then thrusts it back in. The feeling of it inside you, plus being able to feel it beneath your hand makes you moan loud and long, head falling back against the pillows as Rika lets you go, using her now free arm to prop herself up to watch you as she begins rhythmically working the dildo in and out of you, a small shift of her thumb has it brushing against your clit every time she sinks the silicone back into you, only adding to the layers of pleasure as your toes curl and your legs twitch.

“Look at you taking it like you were made for this, good girl.” she purrs, licking at her lips “I really shoulda found another reason to get you alone waaay before now.”

“Ungh…please…p-please…more…” It takes more than you feel like it should to beg, good as it felt, you’re worried that Rika was perhaps treating you just a little too softly. “Rika please…please please pleas-”

“Woah there, settle down baby.” She whispers, kissing at your cheek “Lookit you, telling me what you want like a good girl…who am I to deny the champion?” 

Your attempt at telling her she didn’t need to use your title is quickly drowned out when she sits up, plunging the toy deeper inside of you with this new angle, brushing up against that one spot that had triggered your last orgasm. Her free hand pins your chest down as she smiles down at you, predatory and hungry for your reactions as she ups the pace, occasionally stopping to really grind the toy deep inside of you, right against that sensitive spot that has your voice pitch higher while you grip at Rika’s hand like your life depended on it.

As your next orgasm draws closer, you whimper, tugging at her hand, overstimulated ,overwhelmed, knowing you needed something, but not quite sure what that something was. At least until Rika pulls you to sit up, not even interrupting her pace as she braces you against her chest so you can hide your face away into the crook of her neck. All the while she mutters praise and pet names into your ear. She groans when that knot snaps for the second time tonight and you cry her name into her throat. You don’t pass out like you’re pretty sure you did last time at least, but as the shocks of pleasure begin to fade out, you really do begin to feel the pull of exhaustion behind your eyes as you slump against Rika’s shoulder, whimpering quietly when she slowly pulls the toy from your sensitive core, feeling the way your muscles involuntarily clench around it.

“How was that, baby? You doin alright?” She asks, gently tossing the toy back towards the bedside table as she turns her attention back to you. You were dizzy, dazed, and exhausted, yet through all that one thought still persisted.

She’d been doing all of this for you, and she still had her goddamn pants on.

Her breath hitches when your hand drops to her thighs, pressing beneath the waistband as you try to swallow down your nervousness to return the favour properly, biting your lip as you find the slick, wet mess already waiting for you; in a way, it was comforting to know that she was in fact, turned on by all of this. You’re clumsier than Rika at this, inexperienced and nervous, but you listen as she lets out a shuddering breath, her head leaning against yours for a moment as you slowly gain some confidence. That is until she grabs your wrist, ignoring your whine as she pulls your hand away and lays you back down, taking a moment to kiss any air out of your lungs, trying to calm your fraying nerves at being denied the chance to please her. 

“Hey… It’s ok sweetie.” She murmurs against your lips, uncaring of your wide-eyed pout “One more…”

“Nooo.” you whine, wiggling in her grip “I cant…s’too much Rika…” truly, you didn't think you could take another, no matter how good it felt, the first two had been so intense, but Rika only smiles. 

“I know you can give me one more, sweet girl.” she purrs, watching as you squirm and shake your head like you could actually deny her. “Will you stop being a brat if I told you this one will also get me off?” 

At that, your squirming stops as you blink tiredly up at her, earning a chuckle and a fond shake of her head. 

“R-really?”

“Yeah, s’nice n easy on you too…you wanna try?” 

You seriously doubted she could get another out of you, hell, you seriously doubted you could stay awake for much longer, her initial plan definitely working…but if it brought her pleasure too…

“O-ok…I’ll try…”

“That’s my girl.” She whispers softly, pressing just as soft a kiss to your lips “Lay back for me, princess.”

You do just that, shifting a few pillows to get comfortable, if you thought your joints ached before, now you felt like you've made the trip to the three final gyms today on foot…perhaps you should make Koraidon his favourite sandwich as thanks for carrying you around all day.

You feel Rika take hold of one of your legs, lifting it so your knee bends over her shoulder as she settles into place, finally free of her own bottoms as she slots her pelvis against yours. You gasp at the feeling of your cores pressing together. It felt…soft, but almost way more intimate and intense than anything she’d done to you prior…whatever she was doing, definitely wasn’t covered in any sex-ed class you’d taken back in school.

You’re about to ask, when she rolls her hips and oh- 

Perhaps it was your already overstimulated state, or just the position itself, but as she slowly grinds herself against you, the friction leaves you breathless, even more so when you look at Rika’s face. Her brow is furrowed in deep concentration as she bites at her bottom lip, face contorting in pleasure as she groans into your knee, her nails digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as she rolls her hips just a little harder, the pain only adding to the sensation.

“S-shit…” she pants, “fuck you feel so good…good girl..” she moans, head tilting back as she stares up at the ceiling, shuddering when you whimper and lift your hips as she rolls down again, sending another jolt of pleasure through you both. “That’s it princess, j-just like that… you’re gettin real good at this…” 

Her words of pleasured praise do…something else to you, sparking that last bit of energy you had left to life as you continue to try and keep rhythm with her, grinding together slow and deep and watching in awe as the first member of the elite four comes apart in front of you for the first time, her sounds going from quite whispers to long moans and pleasured keens. 

“Rika- R-rika…” you pant “mmf-fuck… can’t believe it’s taken this long..” the words are out of your mouth before you have the forethought to think about them “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you since we first met back when I was taking the gym challenge… you were so- ah! H-handsome and intimidating…I…thought you were a-a man and nearly called you S-sir-”

“FUCK-” her shout actually makes you jolt, and you realise she’s cumming, cunt grinding deliciously into your own as she bites down on your leg, the sudden extra jolt of pleasure-pain sending you over the edge as well with an open-mouthed scream.

Somewhere in the haze before you pass out, you make a mental note to try calling Rika ‘sir’ next time…if there was a next time.

–

It’s light out when you wake the next morning, blinking sleep from your eyes as you look out the window.

Seems the snow had only picked up during the night, most of which you don't remember after…well, everything. Save for a straw in your mouth, Rika’s gentle voice coaxing a few sips of fluid into you, and a damp cloth wiping you down, hushing your overstimulated whimpers of protest. 

Somehow she’d even managed to get you dressed again without waking you…you must have crashed hard. Yet the thing that sticks out to you is that the bed is severely lacking in another body, Rika nowhere to be found.

At first, a pit of worry sows itself into your gut. Had she gone to sleep on the couch after all that? Had she had second thoughts-

A clatter from down the hall, and her warm laughter however, abate that somewhat.

“You’re such an ungainly thing.” you hear her snicker “Hold on a second it’s nearly done, needy lizard.” 

Koraidon’s telltale ‘i'm hungry and sad, feed me’ whine quickly turns to happy chirping at the promise of food, his head turning to the hallway as you shuffle out of bed, blanket and all to trudge down the hall. happily leaving Rika to her business as he trots over to greet you, shoving his massive snout right into your belly. 

“See? All your complainin’ woke her up!” Rika snorts, resting a hand on her hip. “N’here i was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up…”

Your cheeks heat a little at the sentiment.

“Keyword is try…good luck getting any cooking past Koraidon…” you mumble softly, petting said pokemon’s head feathers down as the other trainer leaves the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Well, initially I’d enlisted him to help, but that turned out to be a bust..” She snickers. “G’mornin.”

“M-morning..” 

Rika tilts her head at you with an amused grin “aw, actin all shy after everything that happened last night?” she muses, chuckling when all the response you give is a slightly redder face before you drop your head into Koraidon’s feathers. Her amusement soon melts away as a warm, now intimately familiar hand, comes to rest on your back. 

“Hey…” she sighs “I enjoyed myself last night… I hope you did too…” 

“I-I did… its just…I…” you nibble at your bottom lip, unable to come up with the words to describe how you’re feeling. Giddy and nervous, emotional and excited, all wrapped up into one package.

Thankfully, your companion seems to take it in stride, pressing another kiss to your temple before she returns to the kitchen.

“Oh by the way.” She pipes up after a moment. “Geeta called this morning…snow’s a little too heavy today so HQ’s shut…looks like we have a long weekend.” 

Oh, an extra day off? That's probably the best news you could have gotten today, considering your legs were still shaking like a newborn deerling…

“Nice..” you giggle, slowly shuffling towards the couch, pulling her blanket up over your shoulders as you flop down by the arm and get cozy. 

“Thats what I said.” She snickers, soon joining you with a hot plate of food. If you’d thought the galarian curry last night had been good, this trumped it, your body screaming for food after last night’s exertion. 

“Y’know, if you want…you’re more than welcome to crash here for the weekend…” Rika throws the offer casually as she eats, content smile upon her face as she watches you from the corner of her eye “Snow’s only gotten heavier since yesterday, n’I don't wantcha getting hurt tryina get home..” 

This time, you can hear the intent behind her words, the intent you couldn’t read yesterday as you turn your head towards the window, to the almost whiteout of Masagoza. You contemplate the offer as you polish off your breakfast, placing the plate on the coffee table before you, watching as Koraidon happily trots up to lick the plate clean with a happy chirp.

“Hmmm…well, if you’re happy to have me…who am I to say no…sir.” you know it’s cheeky, you know it’s going to end badly for you, but watching Rika’s face suddenly go from cool, calm and collected, to beet red is totally worth it before she shoves the last mouthful of her own food into her mouth, slamming the plate onto the table before she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hauls you up. 

You cackle all the way down the hall as she all but drags you back to the bedroom.

You were in for a long weekend indeed.

#pokemon scarlet and violet x reader #Rika x reader #elite four rika x reader #Rika x reader smut

[frenchfrywrites]

It started out with a kiss (how did it end up like this)

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Dom top amab male reader, sub bottom Brahms Heelshire, piss, cumming untouched, handjobs, overstimulation, soap as lube, dacryphilia

thank you to the lovely @fatigueeed for this commission, it was a delight to write (hehe the rhyme was unintentional)

“But I don’t want to!” Brahms yells, his fists balling up to prove his point. 

You’re trying to get him to take a shower, which is a hard feat in itself, but it’s made even more difficult with Brahms’ seemingly unexplained bad attitude today. You’ve learned that he has days like this, where he’s cranky and bratty and it’s hard not to want to punish him. 

You take a deep breath, attempting to deescalate the situation. 

“Okay,” your tone is soft and gentle, like you’re talking to a wild animal, “what would make you feel good enough to take a shower?” seems like a compromise may be the only way that you’ll get him to cooperate today. 

Brahms hesitates, staring at you through the holes in his mask. His fists unfurl, and he shifts from foot to foot, “kiss,” he mumbles softly. Your brows furrow. Knowing Brahms the way you do, that can’t possibly be all that he wants. Though, you suppose it’s a fine starting point.

“We can kiss Brahms,” you reassure him sweetly, and though it’s impossibly soft, you swear that you hear him stumble and stammer from behind his mask. 

You hold your hand out to him, “c’mere,” he’s quick to close the space between you, grabbing your hand in his and holding on tight. “You promise you’ll take a shower after?” you check, and Brahms nods. 

With his promise confirmed you close your eyes, and hear him take his mask off. A moment later he presses his lips to yours, tightening his grip on your hand- if you were to guess, because of excitement.

You kiss back tenderly, and like each time you kiss, the urge to open your eyes and see him unmasked overwhelms you. Though, his trust is much more important than seeing his face, so you keep your eyes closed. 

Brahms kisses you for a while, so long that you wonder if he’s trying to prolong the kiss to avoid the shower he’s promised he’ll take, but eventually he does pull away. He takes a second to catch his breath, and then you hear him put the mask back on. 

Your eyes slowly flutter open, “shower time,” you remind him, tugging him towards the bathroom. Brahms lets you pull him all the way there,

“Wait,” and then he stops you before you open the door. You turn to look at him, ready to deal with another tantrum, but he looks more shy than anything. “Um,” you cock a brow, confused as to what Brahms is up to. “I want something else,” you hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes, because of course he wanted more than just a kiss, “I want you to take a shower with me, please.”

That catches your attention. You’ve never seen him without his mask, and now he wants to take a shower together? “Okay,” you respond dumbly, still a bit in shock. 

Now it’s Brahms who tugs you into the bathroom. He makes quick work of stripping himself down to his underwear, still wearing his mask. He then turns to you expectantly, and you finally snap out of your stupor and begin undressing yourself, not missing how Brahms stares you down as you do. 

You wonder what his plans are with the mask. Will he wear it into the shower, or make you close your eyes throughout the entire time? Like him, you strip down to your underwear, then wait for his next move. Brahms clears his throat softly. 

“Please don’t be scared,” is all he says before his hands reach up to his mask. Despite his large stature he seems impossibly small in front of you, curled in on himself as he pulls off his mask in front of you for the first time.

“Oh Brahms,” you breathe, unable to stop the way you gather his face in your hands. You knew he had a beard, because you could feel it each time he kissed you, but other than that his face is entirely new to you. “Darling you’re beautiful,” tenderly, you trace the burn scars on the side of his face. Brahms’ lip quivers,

“You’re not lying, are you?” he checks, his voice cracking as he leans into your touch. You kiss him sweetly,

“No, not at all,” you reassure him, “thank you for letting me see you,” he smiles, and truly you feel so lucky for getting to see him like this. You deliver another loving kiss, and Brahms opens his mouth against your lips, inviting you to slip your tongue in. You indulge him, maybe as a reward for being good and brave, or maybe because seeing his face sparked something hot and wanting inside of you. 

When you feel Brahms’ erection press against you you pull away, patting his cheek gently, “it’s shower time now,” you murmur breathlessly. Brahms whines, “c’mon, I’ll wash you,” you offer, as a way to avoid another tantrum. That has him practically jumping out of his underwear, and into the shower. He pulls the curtain closed and starts the water, quickly popping his head out to make sure you’re on your way.

You take your time, putting on a show for him. Then you make your way into the shower, Brahms steps back to let you in, practically drooling as he looks at you. Your cock stirs at the attention. 

“Be a good boy and hand me the soap, yeah?” he does as he’s told, and you go about cleaning the upper part of his body. Brahms stays erect the whole time, arching his chest into your hands and moaning when you brush against his nipples. He’s not playing it up either, you know he’s so touch starved that simply having you clean him can get him all worked up. Brahms places his hands on your shoulders and leans into your touch fully, leaving hardly any space between the two of you.

Once his upper body is clean, your hands travel south. Teasingly, you avoid his cock, saving that for last. Brahms is breathless with your hands so close, yet not touching him where he wants and needs it most. 

“Please,” he whimpers, 

“Please what, Brahmsy?” you tease running your soapy hands along his inner thighs, knowing full well what he wants. 

“Touch me- touch my cock, please,” he strains, bucking his hips. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, taking him into your hand at last. Brahms lets out a choked gasp, again bucking his hips, his fingers sinking into the meat of your shoulders. You circle his head with your thumb, then begin to slowly stroke him. 

You’ve jerked him off before, but have never seen his face while you do it. His eyes flicker between watching you stroke him, to your own hard cock, to your face. His cheeks are a bright red, and not because of the hot water from the shower. Brahms licks his lips, and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him.

“You’re so hot,” you groan, squeezing the base of his cock as you lean in and press your lips against his. Brahms moans against your lips, his dick twitching in your hold. You stroke him slowly, and sometimes he grinds into your hand, trying to pick up the pace. You don’t chastise him though, because you’re too distracted with soaking up every sound he makes and all of his physical reactions. 

Brahms pants against your lips, moaning and whimpering, his grip on your shoulders tightening and loosening depending on how you stroke him. 

He lets out a sharp gasp when you rub his tip again. There’s pre bubbling at the tip already, though you’re not surprised considering how touch starved he still is. 

“I’m going to- it feels like I’m going to pee,” he cries softly, his eyes wide. His words make you feel hot all over, but you figure he’s just talking about cumming so instead you kiss his jaw while quickening your pace. A second later he lets out a strangled noise, and he frantically looks down at his dick.

Oh. He was right. 

You both watch as Brahms pisses all over your abdomen and dick. The hot stream of his piss is not unlike the shower water- save for the fact that it’s piss- nevertheless it makes you unreasonably horny. 

Brahms clings to you, still watching the scene playing out before him. He’s breathing heavy near your ear, mumbling and whining something you can’t decipher. He sniffles and you look up,

“Cum- cumming,” you finally hear him say. On cue you feel the stream die down, his dick twitches once, twice- and you never stopped stroking him now that you notice it- then, replacing his piss, Brahms cums on you. You look down to see him further dirty you.

He jerks his hips into your hand as he rides out his orgasm.

“I-” you look up to see his face once he stills his hips, “I’m so sorry,” he wails, his voice cracking as tears well up in his eyes. You coo,

“Oh Brahms, baby,” you kiss his jaw once again, feeling his dick soften in your hand. “It’s okay, you’re okay lovely,” you assure him, squeezing his dick once before letting go. Brahms nuzzles his face into your skin, sniffling softly. You run a hand through his wet hair, “felt so good having you piss on me,” you tell him honestly, and Brahms whimpers, “feel how hard I am?” you guide his hand to your penis. 

Brahms moans, circling his hand around you and giving you a shaky stroke. There’s remnants of his cum and piss on your cock, but neither of you seem to care. 

“Did it feel good for you, baby?” you ask carefully. Brahms nods and pulls his head back so he can look at you. His cheeks are flushed a deep red,

“It felt very good,” he squeezes your cock in his hand, “I want you inside now,” you nearly have to remind him about being bratty, but he quickly adds, “please?” 

You huff, “is that right?” he nods again, “you think you can handle it?” 

“Yes, please, need to feel you stretching me open and fuh-fucking me full, please,” he asks oh so politely. 

“Good boy minding your manners,” you take his hand, that had been sloppily stroking and playing with you, in yours. “Lean against the wall for me,” Brahms follows your instructions, watching you through his dark curls that fall in front of his face. 

You first lube your cock up with some soap, knowing this is what will have to suffice for lube right now, but cursing yourself for not having the real thing.

After coating your fingers, you approach Brahms. With the hand that’s not coated with soap, you get a good grip on his thigh. A bit of struggling, and one very scary slip, you get situated with Brahms supported against the shower wall, his legs wrapped around your waist and his arms around your neck. 

It’s jarring, seeing him face-to-face rather than face-to-mask. You’re enthralled by his expressions, and though you know it makes him feel safe and secure, you hope he forgoes the mask more often now. 

“Ready?” you ask, circling his hole with your soapy finger. He gasps softly, his cock still soft but twitching with interest at the feel of you against his rim,

“Yes,” Brahms tries to hump back against you, so you begin inching your first finger into him. There’s a bit of resistance, but with a couple of gentle kisses he loosens up for you to start stretching him. 

He’s noisy with your fingers in him. His sounds echo off the shower walls, creating a cacophony of moans and whimpers.

By the time you get two fingers in and stretching him, Brahms is hard and leaking already. 

“You’re going to cum again before I get my cock in you, aren’t you,” you tease, curling your fingers towards his prostate. Brahms lurches, his head knocking back his head against the shower wall.

“Yuh-yes,” he cries as you continue to massage his prostate. “Please, ah, may I?” you coo,

“Oh baby, go ahead, cum for me,” with your permission he does, cumming untouched and oh so quickly. His cum dirties his stomach and chest as he squeezes and flutters around your fingers. You finger fuck him through it, “there we go, sweet boy, cumming untouched for me, so good,” you babble praise watching his expressions fervently. 

When his breathing slows and he whines instead of moans, you slowly pull your fingers from him. Looking at him like this, you can’t help but wrap your hand around your cock. 

“Ah, still want my dick baby?” you ask eagerly, stroking yourself in anticipation. Brahms wipes the sweat from his brow, and looks at you through his lashes. 

“Yes, please,” he sounds so sweet, you have to squeeze the bottom of your cock to stop yourself from getting too worked up. 

“Fuck,” you readjust so you can align yourself up with his hole. Brahms lets out a weak whine when he feels your cockhead rub against him. “You sure you’re okay?” he nods,

“I want you inside me, I want to feel you stuffing me up, please,” you push yourself into him, groaning his name as he engulfs you. Brahms lets out a choked moan and then sobs. 

“Oh baby,” you coo, kissing his jaw, and run your hand through his hair. He leans into your touch, tears streaming down his face. Brahms clenches hard around you with each sob, which makes pressing yourself into him take longer than usual. “Is it too much Brahms?” you ask as you bottom out. 

“No, no,” he wails, pulling you closer, “please,” he hiccups a sob “feels so good,” 

“Shh, okay, okay,” you kiss him gently, hoping to calm him. It works pretty well: his breathing steadies, and his sobs turn to sniffles. 

After a moment, he finally shakily asks you to move. 

You start with a slow pace, still letting him get adjusted to the stretch and sensations from your cock. Brahms lets out heavy breaths, his dick slowly becoming erect once again. To help him along you once again take him into your hand. 

He gasps at the feeling, his eyes shooting open. Brahms twitches in your hold, chubbing up as you stroke him in time with your slow pace. 

“Faster, faster, please,” he begs, fluttering around you. Eagerly, you shift your hips and speed up your thrusts. In turn you also stroke Brahms faster, working him to full hardness. 

You know you’ve only got so much control, and sooner rather than later you’re going to climax. It’s been a steady climb, but now while fucking Brahms, you feel it closing in on you.

“Fuck,” you squeeze his cock gently and Brahms keens, “I’m gonna cum soon baby, hah,” he moans, open and wanton at your promise. “Havin’ you, ah ungh, piss n’ cum on my cock, having you cum-mmm, so much, Brahms,” you’re feeling delirious, maybe the heat of the shower is the cause (it’s not that, it’s the heat around your cock that’s making you go crazy). 

Brahms clings you closer to him, letting out a wail of a moan that echoes against the walls at your dirty talk. 

“Want me to- hah- fill you up baby?” you ask, panting now due to how fast you’re fucking into him, the heat, and the physical labor of holding Brahms up. He nods so fast you worry about him getting whiplash,

“Oh, please, please-” he moans your name when your thumb swipes along the slit of his cock, spreading the pre cum that once again forms at the head of his cock, “cum inside of me- ah- fill me up, please.”

His begging brings you over the edge, and finally you feel the release you’ve been needing for what feels like ages. You stroke Brahms’ cock rough and fast as you pound your cum into him. He lets out a choked sob, and arches his back as best as he can.

It’s only once you finally come down from your orgasm that Brahms cums for a third time, squeezing around your softening cock like a vice. You hiss, but jerk him off through his orgasm. You don’t stop until he’s whimpering in pain. 

Ever so carefully, you slip yourself out of him, and help him stand. Brahms is shaky, clinging to you like he’s not a massive man toned with heavy muscle. 

You kiss him lovingly, “thank you for cooperating and taking a shower, darling,” you run a hand down his back, and slip two fingers into his hole to help get your cum out of him. 

Brahms shudders against you, letting out a weak sob at the overstimulation. “Oh I know Brahms, just be a good boy for one more minute, and then we’ll get you into some soft, warm pajamas, how’s that sound?”

Brahms doesn’t give you a vocal answer, but he kisses your skin that’s closest to his mouth, and you suppose that must mean he’s pleased. 

As you promised, once he’s clean (inside and out), you turn off the water and carefully help him out of the shower. 

Brahms clings to you even as you attempt to dry both of you off, which makes the task take longer than normally. You help him into his fuzzy robe that you’d gotten as soon as you’d started making him shower and bathe more frequently, and pull on a similar robe for yourself. Brahms grabs his mask and slips it on before you leave. 

Hand in hand you guide him to your (now) shared room. Brahms, instead of letting you get you and him into pajamas, drags you to your bed. He tugs you under the covers, and snuggles into you. 

“Kiss?” he asks softly, his voice sore and rough, looking up at you adoringly from behind his mask. You smile lovingly, before kissing the porcelain sweetly. To your surprise Brahms pulls away first, “you’re not going to leave me,” it’s not a question, but you nod anyway. 

He’s right. You’re not going to leave.

#um YEAH that title is from mr brightside what about it?! #sub brahms heelshire #slashers #spice #p/iss #cw dacryphilia #cw overstimulation

[thepringlesofblood]

Dimension 20′s Neverafter FPE (Fairytales Per Episode)

im going out of my fuckin gourd on this neverafter shit, and i have decided to make a list of what and how many fairytales/nursery rhymes are introduced in each episode. will update as time goes on but i make no promises as to how frequently. theories are not included in totals. allusions/references are.

disclaimer: i am coming at this from a primarily american, english-speaking, culturally christian background, though I have studied a lot of ancient mediterranean myth and religion, a little bit of norse myth and religion, and a little bit of arthurian legend.

please let me know if there’s a reference to something I missed or if you know shit I don’t. i’ve decided that for our purposes, whether a reference/allusion is intentional or not doesn’t factor into our final count - unintentional/ambiguously intentional allusions/references count too, not just obvious ones.

(especially about mythical middle eastern spiders. I only know anansi & arachne, and have a passing familiarity with jorogumo & ye xian, and none of those are middle eastern or fit the situation.)

update: the show is finished! I won’t be taking my various theories off, i think it adds flavor. just remember as you’re going down that I was updating this weekly-ish. I’m going to do another post in the future that is Just The Numbers, but for now, enjoy my rambling! [updatier update: here’s the Just The Numbers post]

Ep. 1

The PCs (and their backstories)

 Mother Goose (+1)

Hubbard (old mother Hubbard who lived in a cupboard) (+1)

Jack

jumped over the Candlestick (+1)

(implied) and the Beanstalk (bc of the giants everywhere) (+1)

theory: Sprat? (the rhyme goes “Jack sprat could eat no fat his wife could eat no lean/and so between them both, you see they licked the platter clean.” not directly mentioned but that was my first thought upon the whole turning to bones thing that like all the fat was removed from his body or smthin)

Ylfa (Little Red Riding Hood) (+1)

there are 2 wolves inside you. you are 12.

the big bad wolf is mentioned in the context of 2 stories, the 3 little pigs and little red riding hood, so (+1) for the pigs

Pib (Puss in Boots) (+1)

Pinocchio (+1)

Cinderella (stepmother’s official art says “Cinderella...” at the bottom) (+1)

theory: “The second fairy you have met in your life” so also a character in smthin else probably since cindy’s stepmom isnt usually magical

update: maybe the whole cannibalism thing made her magical? who’s to say

updatier update (post ep 7): so it turns out that the evil fairy =/= the stepmother, but is the evil fairy from sleeping beauty. i was right about the stepmother being in multiple different stories but boy howdy do i wish I wasn’t. 

Rosamund (sleeping beauty/briar rose) (+1)

Gerard (the princess and the frog) (+1)

Snow queen (mentioned by Elody) (+1)

the rest of the episode

the little red hen (+1)

i fuckin love this one.

the story’s basic but good - she’s makin some bread and at every step asks for help from the other barnyard creatures and they’re all like hmm nahhhhh and then when it comes time to eat the bread they’re all like yes please lemme help w that and she’s like uh no, where was this energy when i was making the damn thing? and eats it ‘without any help at all’

so brennan doing her as like ‘u gotta help or you don’t eat’ is fantastic. 10/10

Ol king Cole (+1)

The little old lady who lived in a shoe (+1)

(alluded to) Alice n Wonderland (rabbit and teapot) (+1)

theory: “the chandling caravan” sounds like it should be something, but I don’t know what it is, and google has not been helpful. same w boffit, lord bandlebridge, and cressida lumley.

total tale count: 16

Ep. 2

The nutcracker (+1) (herr drosselmeyer is the weird uncle who gives clara the nutcracker. also in every ballet his drip is consistently immaculate)

Snow White (+1) (mirror mirror…..leaned up against the wall)

(alluded to) Beauty n the beast (furniture coming alive) (+1)

theory: Eidelgrin means something, but I don’t know what it is.

total tale count: 3

Ep. 3

.........nothing new to report

Ep 4

the fairy with the turquoise hair (aka the blue fairy) is actually not exclusive to Pinocchio - she has her own book n everything. (+1)

(alluded to) the little mermaid (+1)

“a dancing princess who either cannot or will not speak near a beach.”

the little mermaid trades her voice for legs and in the OG grimm story it feels like stepping on swords whenever she walks so she kind of “dances” (rip)

there’s. So many rabbit and fox tricksters. And other clever cats. I don’t think any were directly mentioned (except that Pinocchio has some in his many adventures, which isn’t a new tale) so I’m gonna say (+1) for rabbit and (+1) for fox.

Update: a reply to this post mentioned a character named Reynard the Fox from medieval French literature that might be the reason that the Fox speaks with a French accent. I found more support for this theory below!

“Isengrim”

this is the name of the daggers Pib gets. Rabbit mentions that it’s a name that Fox called the Wolf.

In fact, there’s a tale called Ysengrimus from 1152 CE where Reynard the Fox tricks the titular character, a wolf! So, there’s one Fox story confirmed. No additional points since Fox already had 1 point, this is more confirming the specific story he was inspired by.

theory: also, if we know the accents Mean Something, then Rabbit having a British accent might point to Peter Rabbit.

update: i have noticed several posts calling Rabbit’s accent Australian. it can be hard for me to tell the difference and idk if the general European bent of these tales means that brennan’s British just sounds kind of Australian or if it Means Something. I’m sure there’s Australian trickster rabbits too i just don’t know them

no fuckin clue where the ring came from tho :/

the golden goose (another Jack/Mother Goose tale not specifically mentioned before) (+1)

plus the beanstalk thing is talked about more (not new info though)

total tale count: 5

Ep. 5

hey diddle diddle (+1) (the dish ran away with the spoon + the cow jumping over the moon are from this same rhyme)

also anyone catch brennan mentioning fiddle music as tim was healing pib? ik it was king cole related music, but also...hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle.

itsy bitsy spider (+1)

(alluded to) little miss muffet (+1) (tuffeton)

(alluded to) goldilocks (+1) (”just enough” oats)

1001 nights (+1) (scheherazade is the author of these tales, as well as a myth in her own right. I have not read 1001 nights. please tell me things if you know them)

“spider queen” (+1) idk what it is but its fuckin something

identifying information: guardian of a cave/maze. supposedly has a throne. 1001 nights-adjacent.

theories:

“the spider and the wind” tale 909 of 1001, spider isn’t in this one that much actually

not all folktales in the neverafter are in mother goose’ book, so it stands to reason that not all folktales in the Endless Nights are in 1001 nights.

however, all the folktales in the neverafter are European in origin (mostly medieval), so it would make sense that the folktales in the endless nights would be middle eastern or adjacent

ye xian - chinese folktale where there’s a spider queen

“that’s east asia not arabia” fair but consider: in the older translations, aladdin is a chinese peasant. the world of 1001 nights is already bigger than arabia, and stories travel much more easily than the goods being traded across asia and the mediterranean on the silk road at the time the stories were written.

jorogumo - japanese yokai. a spider that turns into a woman. again, extremely far away from arabia, but girl i am looking.

cave of thawr - islamic oral tradition of muhammed hiding in a cave and a spider protects him. there’s a similar jewish tale w david hiding in a cave.

unlikely, but if there’s beautiful tapestries and the mother of all spiders i have to mention my girl Arachne (greek myth)

all time famous mythical spider anansi (west africa) still doesn’t really fit the bill, and is farther away from arabia than arachne (greece, which had colonies in the middle east (along the mediterranean shore but still. water = trade = exchange of goods = exchange of ideas/stories)) but still possible

yes i got a degree in ancient mediterranean studies and am using it to ruthlessly analyze a comedy show instead of sleeping, what about it?

sinbad (+1) “Sinbad the Sailor” (the roc is part of this as far as i can tell)

magical palace w the tapestries of starlight (+1) there’s a fuckload of magic palaces in 1001 nights. idk which one this refers to but it’s Something. am currently combing the stories more closely to specify at least one.

theories

the bartender with the icy wound is definitely someone. my gut says someone from the snow queen - people get icy mirrors in their eyes n shit in there and oftentimes straight up don’t get better

the peddler of wares in the corner has to be someone

the name of the tavern being “the cock and toad” has to mean something. i did some googling. there’s lots of fairytales w toads and lots of fairytales w cocks (lol) but none I could find where it’s just the two of them together. it’s weird, w a lot of fairytales/fables/nursery rhymes its like rolling 2d8 on a table of 8 animals and then just making the title out of the two animals you get. statistically its likely that there’s a story out there called that but I can’t find it.

the fucking spidersilk ring. i will solve this riddle one day.

they say the name “Aesop” as in “Aesop’s fables” (like the tortoise and the hare) but no tales mentioned yet. worth looking into if you’re the curious sort tho. Pib is going to fuck this guy up, his stories are very animal-centric and definitely have some trickster cats.

total tale count: 8

Ep. 6

No new tales - expands on ones already mentioned.

It’s just Muffet and whoever Scheherazade’s spider is

at least we find out that the “spider queen” referred to the monstrous form of muffet and Scheherazade’s spider combined, and not some new wholly separate myth.

Scheherazade’s spider seemed a little...riddly? for lack of a better term? like the whole “something that does not breathe” thing was weird, and if it’s supposed to be a guardian or guide of some sort, riddles make sense.

honorable mention: In the adventuring party episode, brennan tells the fable of the scorpion and the frog.

total tale count: 0

Ep 7

many theories with little knowledge.

In the adventuring party, brennan straight up says that the sword of truth is a general archetype, not from any specific tale. didn’t know that was an option! so no points for the sword of truth, dope as it is.

p.s. anyone else get flashbacks to fhsy with the whole truth mirror thing? it’s a good concept I’m glad brennan’s bringing it back

I am assuming each artifact found in the spider’s lair either comes from a separate tale, or is an archetype. I’m only counting it if I can pin down a specific tale that it is from.

the gillesuit/haystack cloak (+1)

update: As of Ep. 9, we now know that this is called “the cloak of rushes” and grants advantage on stealth checks. it is almost certainly from the English fairy tale “Cap-o’-Rushes” which, confusingly, features not just a cap but a whole outfit made of rushes!

my first thought was little boy blue, which does come from the tales of mother goose. this makes more sense tho lol

the golden bridle (+1)

some cursory googling indicates that this is from the celtic tale of Guleesh. one night, upon hearing the Fair Folk partying in some ruins (had to look up what a “rath” was lol) and saying “My horse, my bridle, my saddle!”, he repeats what they’re saying and is suddenly on a horse with a golden bridle. the story isn’t about the bridle itself, but the horses feature prominently, and can fly and stuff. When Guleesh kind of breaks the magic, the horse turns into a wooden beam, so maybe putting the bridle on a wooden beam summons a horse?

update: in ep 13 & 14 (& the adventuring parties) they mention that a. it does not summon a steed - you need to already have a steed there, and b. it would only work on a beast, not a monstrosity.

so.......maybe it’s not the one from the tale of Guleesh. I remain optimistic.

the golden chair (+1)

an obscure one, to be sure. from a grimm fairytale with a weirdly christian bent, where a tailor convinces st peter to let him into heaven but then sits in a big golden chair which as it turns out is the chair god sits in, and fucks up by throwing the footstool at some lady on earth washing veils (?) and gets kicked out again.

it is very possible that this was not an intentional allusion, but rather meant to evoke a fairytale-like atmosphere. either way, mission accomplished!

honorable mention: mayor harold hopps, while not a fairytale character himself, looks exactly like and was apparently inspired by the guy on the Pringles can, who is 100% a modern-day folkloric character.

theories:

the black velvet cloak with stars on it

idk where this is from. the only story I could find w a cursory google that had star clothing was Allerleirauh aka Thousandfurs, about a princess whose dad who wants to marry her (gross) so she asks for a bunch of impossible stuff to be made before the wedding can happen to try and stop it, including a dress made of stars (and one made of every kind of fur in the world hence the title). but it’s not a cloak so no points.

i s2g i have heard of something called ‘the cloak of stars’ before but I can’t fucking find it. pls lmk if you can think of something

update: ep 9 - they ALMOST told us what it was fuck, they mentioned wearing it to escape from the stepmother but we have no name. also the ‘cap-o’-rushes’ tale is extremely similar to thousandfurs minus the incest, so I don’t think it’s from that.

the stick skeletons w/ flesh on them were minions of the evil fairy from sleeping beauty - not a new tale

total tale count: 3

Ep 8

correction: brennan mentioned in the adventuring party for this one that aesop himself may also be fictional, and that many fables contain him telling the fable as part of it, so we’ll officially count him as his own fable like we did with Scheherazade (+1)

the lion and the mouse (+1)

the boy who cried wolf (+1)

they did finally mention the scorpion and the frog (+1)

alphonse is there but “the mule” isn’t actually referenced as being part of any of aesop’s fables in the show (like, there’s plenty of mules in aesop’s fables but no specific one was referenced in the show)

total tale count: 4

Ep 9

BABA YAGA BABA YAGA BABA YAGA BABAYAGABABAYAGA!!!!!! (+1)

i love her so much. i truly understood emily’s excitement this episode. 

(alluded to) the princess and the pea (+1)

first time around I didn’t hear siobhan ask if anyone sees any stacks of mattresses without peas under them to sleep on lol

(alluded to) this little piggy went to market (+1)

idk if that’s the name of the rhyme or not, or if it has a name

it’s not in the captions but emily axford saying ‘well there has to be a market, right? cause this little piggy went to market’ is iconic

some sources say this rhyme is from Mother Goose lol

total tale count: 3

Ep 10

(alluded to) peter and the wolf (+1)

the baron’s named peter and there’s a wolf. that cant be a coincidence, the 3 little pigs don’t have set names

mostly retreading 3 little pigs territory. awesome battle set!

theories:

the soup could be an allusion to something but i think its just playing into this season’s theme of consumption and the end of the 3 little pigs

the council of kings might be from something

total tale count: 1

Ep 11

we get 5 kings from 5 tales on the Council of Kings (which seems diegetic and not a reference to anything), 3 of which we already knew, 2 which are new.

the little mermaid (the mer-king)

the snow queen (the tsar of snowhold)

the nutcracker (the mouse king)

the emperor’s new clothes (the naked emperor) (+1)

rumpelstiltskin (FINALLY) (the king of apogee) (+1)

Koschei the deathless (+1)

i had no fucking clue who this guy was until emily axford recognized him, thank you emily

at first I was scared the sealskin would be a selkie thing. it may still be, but that doesn’t appear to be the case in this specific situation

(alluded to) the binding of Fenrir, the wolf at the end of the world (+1)

there’s a norse myth where tyr (a god) puts his hand in fenrir’s mouth to show good faith. the gods want to put this magical leash/collar on fenrir, and since he’s not an idiot he says that he’ll consent to it only if tyr puts a hand in his mouth while they do it, to show that what they’re doing will not hurt or bind him in any way. the gods agree, but oops they lied, the chains are very much to bind him, and tyr loses his hand but the wolf is still bound.

but ylfa and mother goose are telling the truth! happy ending (for once lol) ^v^

I didn’t catch this one at first - thank you to the many posts about it in the #neverafter tag!

honorable mention

sheldon from ‘garfield and friends’

theories

the tavern-keeper (Natalia) doesn’t stand out to me as anyone specific so far, though her daughter is the second “snow-touched” person we’ve met (the bartender at the cock and toad had an icy wound over one eye) so im thinkin snow queen

there’s dwarves in other stories than snow white I’m sure, but these ones specifically say “snow white” on their intro card.

also, their names, Mürrisch, Schläfrig, & Arzt, mean grumpy, sleepy, and doctor in German. Grumpy, Sleepy, and Doc are all disney snow white dwarf names. nice.

another infuriating mention of the cloak of stars without any indication of what it does. I’m going to spontaneously combust.

one thing i do appreciate is the amount of taverns they run into. this is the third and i am very pro

total tale count: 4

Ep. 12

so many princesses!!!!! most of them already counted but still!!!

Rapunzel!!!!! (+1)

The North Wind (+1)

my classics major ass immediately assumed they were talking about Boreas, the Greek god of the northern wind lol

from what I can tell, this is from "East of the Sun and West of the Moon"

i’m sure The North Wind is from other things too, everybody loves personifying the wind

honorable mentions

Beast!!!!! i already counted the tale early on as a reference but it’s here fr now!!!!

Finally meeting the little mermaid!!! Also counted early on but this is her first appearance!

“the beast beyond no name” that Mira mentions in combination w the taut string that Pinocchio feels that means part of his story is happening soon whether he likes it or not makes me think it’s Terrible Dogfish time. But. I also think that it could be the literal Kraken.

there’s so many monsters in folklore that are just “really big scary fish thing that lives at the bottom of the ocean yet somehow also wrecks ships on the surface” i just don’t know which one brennan’s going for. my money’s on either Pinocchio’s Dogfish or The Kraken

Candlewick! jesus fucking christ! every time a bit of Pinocchio lore shows up, it’s already horrifying just from the whole story of Pinocchio being horrifying, but then Brennan leans into it in just the right way for it to be so much worse!

in the adventuring party, they mention several other tales, including the tortoise and the hare and the little matchgirl. they also (rightfully) dunk on Hans Christian Andersen for writing ludicrously depressing children’s stories.

total tale count: 2

Ep. 13

no new tales, dogfish, mer-king, & sea witch are from existing tales, but

CLOAK OF STARS LORE CONFIRMED

WE NOW KNOW THE CLOAK OF STARS IS CAPABLE OF CASTING 5TH LEVEL MAGIC MISSILE

THIS DOES NOTHING TO NARROW THINGS DOWN! BUT IT’S SOMETHING!!!!

also MANY tantalizing mentions of the golden bridle with 0 hints as to its capabilities.

total tale count: 0

Ep. 14

the sea witch is named Alba Mac Lír

several allusions here!

thank you @twoeelsforsupper for this observation!

“there is a legend called "the children of Lír" where a witch/stepmother turns King Lír's children into swans but does not take their voices, which ends up getting her found out. like the threads about voices and witches and stepmothers and transformations???”

“Alba” can mean several things

it’s the Scottish Gaelic name for Scotland (this is probably what was being referenced)

in Latin, it’s the feminine nominative singular of the adjective albus, meaning “white”

in Spanish and Italian, it means “sunrise”

In Scottish Gaelic, “Mac” means “son of” so we have “Scotland, son of Lír”

good for her

also, if she’s one of the children of Lír, does that mean she’s one of the ones that got turned into swans?? much to consider.

so, plus one for the legend of the children of Lír! (+1)

FINALLY (finally) we get full cloak of stars lore.

its a fucking dnd 5e item. all this time and it’s legit just a reskin of Robe of Stars

it can take them to the lines between and shoot magic missile

i don’t know why i’m mad

total: 1

Ep. 15

yikes

no new tales, unless you count Clara The Horse Princess (she is not from anything as far as I can tell but I love her. also like Clara is the name of the nutcracker main character but we already counted the nutcracker so it wouldn’t be anything either)

total: 0

Ep. 16

thumbelina! (+1)

tom thumb! (+1)

I thought they were from the same thing but it turns out they have different origins, though there was a 2002 movie that had them be in the same movie.

tom thumb - English folklore, there was a 1621 book called The History of Tom Thumb

thumbelina - hans christian anderson tale from 1835, in the second volume of his Fairy Tales Told For Children series.

turns out he was actually inspired by Tom Thumb a bit, so it’s not convergent evolution or anything.

ngl - I mostly know the story of thumbelina from hearing julia from drawfee rant about how shitty of a movie it is in various streams/videos lol

all the jack stuff is stuff we’ve seen before - golden goose, giantslayer, nimble

UPDATE: in ep 17 adventuring party, brennan talks a bit about the multiplicity of jacks, and clarifies that there are TWO separate giantslayer myths.

Jack the Giant Killer - a Welsh fairytale about a warrior named Jack who fights a bunch of giants with a huge club and wins

Jack and the Beanstalk - an English fairytale about a young boy who accidentally grows a beanstalk to the Giant World and only “kills” the giant at the end by cutting the beanstalk down, leaving the giant to fall to his (their?) death.

So, while we’ve already counted Jack and the Beanstalk, this episode does introduce a new variation on Jack - Jack the Giant Killer. (+1)

henry hubbard is BACK!!!!! yes!!!!!

and tomás!!! and A L P H O N S E

I am v psyched for what comes next.

honorable mentions:

these aren’t explicitly Liliputians, but they do talk about gulliver in the adventuring party. I don’t think they talk about him in the actual show though.

total: 3

Ep. 17

holy shit. so many right off the bat, with brennan and siobhan going through a list of c-list folktales!

Fear Not (+1)

another grimm fairytale - not their finest work i see why this guy would be c-list lol

the brave little tailor (+1)

aka “the guy who kills a bunch of flies with his belt”

this is a for-real grimm fairytale about a guy who kills 7 flies at once, is very proud of it, makes a belt that says “Seven at One Blow” on it, and then goes out into the world and has his shit wrecked from various people misinterpreting what “Seven at One Blow” means

it’s hilarious

another jack tale!! Jack and Jill! (+1)

three blind mice (+1)

honorable mentions:

Henry talks about reuniting a clockwork man with a man in an eyepatch

this is all consistent with the Herr Drosselmeyer lore from all the way back in the first episodes of the show! We already counted him, so no new points, but still very cool!

also cool how brennan combined shoeberg w giant-slaying bc i mean how did they get all those ludicrously big shoes?

the golden goose shows Timothy all the versions of his story where they are one and the same. I’m not counting this as her showing him a new, separate fairytale, since it just overlaps two tales that we already have counted. also, I cried, that was a really intense part of the episode.

in the adventuring party they talk a lot about Narnia and “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.”

ik those aren’t exactly ye olde english fairytales, since they came out in 1950, but if Aslan wandered into the neverafter I’d count him for sure

we learn what the harp does!

the harp’s power is consistent with the jack and the beanstalk myth, but it also reminded me of several other myths about lulling beasts to sleep

e.g. Hermes of Greek mythology fame (and supposedly the inventor of the lyre) also killed the giant Argus after lulling half of his eyes to sleep with the lyre and boring the other half to sleep with various tales of his exploits. (Argus’ big thing was having a bunch of eyes all over his body)

lulling a beast to sleep is a common theme across cultures, makes sense that it’s the kind of archetype useful for the gang.

it’s very possible that some aspect of how baba yaga’s cottage was described alludes to some other Slavic folklore that I didn’t pick up on

total: 4

Ep 18

“The Wishing Star” (+1)

fuck disney for making it impossible to find real fairytales about wishing stars on google

there are many tales/nursery rhymes about wishing on stars. “star light, star bright” is the first that comes to mind, but I’m sure there’s others. we’ll count this as a multi-tale figure and give it +1

honorable mentions

so. The Trials of Baba Yaga could refer to several things.

The Tale about Baba-Yaga is a 18th c. folk story where Baba Yaga has one normal human son (???) who marries a normal human woman, who then has to prove herself by doing seemingly normal chores (milk the cows, shear the sheep) that she then finds out from her husband are secretly meant to kill her (the cows are bears, the sheep are wolves).

(aka a fucked up slavic version of the tale of eros and psyche.)

(not that eros and psyche isn’t fucked up, just in a different way)

There is a 2017 book called “Winston and Baum and the Trials of the Baba Yaga” I do not think this is what was being referenced, and as it is modern and not a folk story, I’m not counting it.

other stuff I can find about Baba Yaga also includes stepdaughters having to do chores with secret meanings - it’s a part of her Thing

I’m including this under the general Baba Yaga mythos, not as its own thing, but still cool stuff to know about.

Prince Johnathan of Apogee (that’s how the subtitles spell it)

so. wayyyy back in episode 11 we find out that the kingdom of apogee is where Rumplestiltskin happened.

I think that’s all the Apogee info we have, and with a name as vague as Johnathan I don’t think we can call it a reference to anything.

We got Mother Goose’s OG rhyme!!!

not a new story but very cool!!!

there’s more but I think they stopped at a good place

fun fact: I found an extra verse that isn’t in the one linked above

“Then old Mother Goose/that instant came in/and turned her son Jack/into famed Harlequin/She then with her wand/touched the lady so fine/and turned her at once/into sweet Columbine”

and then they go on with the rest of the book like that bit never happened

other fun mother goose shit

i thought that littlefinger and “chaos is a ladder” were fairytale quotes but they’re from game of thrones it turns out. ._.

total: 1

Ep 19

no new tales (it’s the finale pt 1) but several honorable mentions

“As you wish”

cinderella girl you are KILLING ME

for those not in the know, this is an allusion to The Princess Bride

in the context of the book & movie, it means “I love you”

could be unintentional but i highly doubt it.

the book is too recent to count as fairytale for our purposes (1973) but it is very much in that genre. god damn.

la bête saying “be our guest” alludes to the disney beauty and the beast movie obvs

“Something wicked this way comes”

quote from Macbeth, by Shakespeare

I don’t think Shakespeare counts as fairytales. idk the vibes are just off. ik it’s an Old Story but it isn’t a fairytale.

total: 0

Ep 20

this is it gang!

The Fairies

so in the 1880s, Andrew Lang wrote a series of fairytale books named after fairies of various colors. I’m counting each fairy who has a book named after them as a new tale.

EXCEPT: the Blue Fairy

ok look i fucked up yall. The Fairy With Turquoise Hair is re-named “The Blue Fairy” in a lot of adaptations, so when I previously counted her separately from Pinocchio bc she had her own book, I was referring to “The Blue Fairy Book”

so we’re not counting it here bc that would be counting it twice. apologies to the actual Blue Fairy.

The Red Fairy Book (+1)

The Green Fairy Book (+1)

The Orange Fairy Book (+1)

The Yellow Fairy Book (+1)

this is by no means all of Lang’s color fairy books. he’s got crimson, violet, grey, pink, you name it.

honorable mentions

Calvin & Hobbes is modern day folklore

I looked up to see if there’s any actual Aesop fables with a shark in em, closest I could find was a dolphin. Rip.

Beaky’s stint in the TAA lines up with Pinocchio’s story, so not a new tale. thank you for your service beaky o7

total: 4

total series tale count: 62

alas, the only mystery remaining is Scheherazade’s spider. someday I may come back to this post with new information about her, but today is not that day. If you know any middle eastern myths/fairytales/folklore/nursery rhymes that prominently feature a spider that guards a maze or guides people through caves, please feel free to reply/reblog with your knowledge.

this show has been a fun and wild ride. Here’s a shortened version of this post with just the numbers

thank you for coming on this journey with me - see you in the stories!

#d20 spoilers #d20 #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #neverafter spoilers #neverafter #original post #ongoing #dnd #folktales #folklore #myth #stories #fairytale

[purlturtle]

Hello, lovely human.

Fanfic Writer Emoji ask!

How about you pick 15 emojis you want to answer, and go wild?... :)

oh god. oh you wonderful human you.

FIFTEEEEEEEN!!!!!

*clears throat*

okay. oh god. hnggnnnh. here we go. (I'm being all calm and normal, as promised.)

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels? (1)

Helena realizing that she is allowed to want, and to have, happiness. Myka realizing that she is allowed to want, and to have, happiness! They've both been dealt really harsh cards by life, and I love to give them love and care and support, not just from each other, but from a wider circle of found family as well. And whenever I get to describe a scene that shows them realizing that, 🥺

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? (2)

I'm very proud of this line I put in Helena's mouth: “Well, it’s not as if they hadn’t imagined our bedroom activities long before there ever were any.”

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers? (3)

I love cliffhangers, both at chapter endings and at fic endings when it's a series! And then wait a week (or, in And Now You, till the events of the next chapter, because I posted that fic in "real time", as it were) until the next chapter goes up. I'm glad my readers are still bearing with me ☺

✍ Do you have a beta reader? (4)

Several! And one of them I even married! 😁 No, but seriously - I find the feedback of beta readers invaluable, not just because English is my second language but because I get too close to the prose (oh wow, unintentional rhyme, nice of you to drop by!), and need an outside eye to tell me if I'm still going in the right direction.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write? (5)

I use good ol' MS Word. With a chapter index, and the new(ish) function of "jump back to where you left off last time", it really works for me. I write pretty much entirely linear, and use a different document for ideas and outline, and a third document for outtakes that might still turn out to be useful down the line, and all of that is straightforward enough to work in Word. I've tried Scrivener, but for me it didn't have enough advantages over what I was already used to in order to really (want to) dive into it and make it mine. With my betas, I use Google Docs and comments, but especially for multichapter fic, that is SO SLOW! And sometimes I write short fic right here on Tumblr, in the app.

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic? (6)

Well, I met my wife through my fics, so yes 😁 but even beyond that, a few of my family and friends know. However, none of them (AFAIK) read a lot of fic in general, nor my fic in particular; most of them aren't English readers, OR geeks.

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic? (7)

Y'know, I just checked, and my ratings ranking is "Teen and up" 20 works, "General" 19, "Explicit" 17!, and "Mature" 4. 😂 so yeah, I do write the spicy stuff! Both as parts of the larger narrative (the most popular of which is And Now You), and as PWP (here the most popular is 24th century t...echnology, a Beverly/Kathryn fic). I gotta say I do love me some good smut. And I hope mine meets the bill!

💲 Would you ever open commissions? (8)

I only write fan fic, not original, so no. I am fiercely protective of AO3, and I will protect their integrity one hundred percent. I don't seek to monetize my writing, anyway - it's a pastime, it is fun, and I want it to stay that way. I am lucky in that I don't need any side hustles, and hey, no shade to those who do find (legal, non-harmful-for-the-larger-fanfic-community) ways to make money from writing, but I also hate hate hate that capitalism has come to the point where some people think you gotta derive money from something somehow for it to be worthwhile, or where people see no other choice than to try, in order to make their ends meet. I write for fun. I am privileged to be able to write for fun. So no, no commissions. But hey, sometimes I do prompts, and I love taking part in gift exchanges! So if you ever wanna get something written by me, just let me know and if it tickles my muse, you might get it!

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic? (9)

Yes, I really like doing that! I have a winter holidays fic, a Halloween fic, a Pride fic, and I have another idea on the backburner for another winter holidays fic; no clue when I'll ever get to writing it, but I'll get there some day! As for favorites, the Halloween fic really kicked my ass, so it won't make that list, and the other two are tied!

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? (10)

So I never really "learned" how to write? In that I never had any kind of instruction in creative writing, I mean. I didn't even know there was such a thing as outlining, or what different writing processes looked like. I would just open a new Word doc and go forth! So yes, I started out a pantser - but lately I'm working with a writing coach, and have looked into writing styles and strategies in other ways too, and I'm realizing that outlining fits me a little better. I'm in a weird in-between phase right now where I have, like, half a dozen WIPs that were started pantser fashion but where I'm trying to outline how the rest of the fic might go; it's fascinating! (and talking with other writers has been immeasurably helpful for those!)

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? (11)

If I am happy with it. Sure, I like kudos, and hits, and comments (especially comments! When someone says "this fic is like a warm comfy blanket" or "I've read this four times at least"? Priceless!) but those are the icing, not the cake. I am immensely proud of Angel, Sinner, Dragonslayer, for example, both for the story itself and for the craft of it, but that one isn't even in the Top 15 by kudos or the Top 20 by hits. And for me to love a fic or to consider it good, those benchmarks don't matter. They make me happy, don't get me wrong - I love hearing if my fics reverberate with people, if they make them happy, if they make them feel all the feels, if people think the smut is hot, etc. etc. - but on my opinion of my fic, they have no impact.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter? (12)

When the muse hits me, when that holy trifecta of inspiration, motivation and time comes together, I can easily write 10,000 words in a day. It's not that I struggle to get words on the page; it's more that the days when that trifecta hits are rare. At the beginning of the pandemic, I was extremely prolific even by my own standards; writing was my way of coping. That has dropped a little bit, alas. Writing is still my happy place, my way of escaping the current hellscape and hang out with my favorite characters, but my energy has definitely been sapped by *gestures at everything*. Add to that that I only ever publish a fic when it's done, and not as I go (god, that idea scares me) (yes even when I publish it week by week; it's all written and done, I just enjoy torturing you by drawing it out), and you see why there's sometimes a long time between fic drops from me.

💥 How do you feel about criticism? 💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback? (13)

Ah! Feedback is a passion of mine. I can take something from almost any kind of comment - even if it is "this commenter has no idea and isn't engaging in good faith". And I always seek to improve my craft, and for that a comment like "this is a bit weak on plot, innit?" is really helpful! Especially if on top of "bit weak" I get given ideas how it could be stronger. Like I said, I never had any training in creative writing, so I am in many ways still learning and will continue to learn for the rest of my life, and I can only do that when I know where I still have room to grow. A bit of background here: I'm a social worker by training, and work in quality management now. I literally thrive in trying to improve things along any number of axes, and that is simply not possible without criticism. So hey, if you have always wanted to point out to me all the ways in which my stuff could be better, by all means reach out and let me know!

❌ What's a trope you will never write? (14)

Grimdark. Or even tragedy. I might take my characters to very dark places, but there will always be light at the end; there will always be a happy ending. Also, man-hating lesbians. Also, mlm. Yes, I'm a woman and yes, I write fanfic, but I write femslash, not slash. 🤷‍♀️ There might be a mlm couple somewhere in the background, sure, because I love including all kinds of queer people in my fics, but my muse just isn't tickled by mlm. As a matter of fact, my muse has pointed due Bering and Wells for the last five years or so? So yeah.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please! (15)

Man, I need to revive the posts in which I talk about my WIPs! Okay, here goes: I'm still working on Strata Part 2 with my beta, and also on Mind Over Matter Part 2. The Pirate fic is a bit on the back burner right now, because I have more inspiration for MOM2 at the moment. I finally have an idea for how to bring it to a good end (thanks, @anandabrat!), and that is the kind of iron you have to hit while it's hot! It'll be from Helena's POV, and show her journey towards a relationship. It's funny how an actual A/B/O fic, that started out with Bering and Wells having, like, the hottest sex ever (offpage though), has turned into one of the slowest burns I've ever written! 😅

Okay, that was a lot!!! And I loved every moment of it!

My wonderful friend, thank you for this opportunity to gush. Mwah mwah mwah!!!

#ask meme #ask me #get to know your author #all my answers!! #this was such fun!

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

Wordcount: 3875

CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.

A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.

[Next chapter]

There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel  like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.

The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind. 

Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back. 

I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them. 

These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin. 

Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you. 

"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light. 

"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it. 

“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”

The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you  know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now. 

You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event. 

Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.

Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.

Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.

“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.

“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.

You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger. 

He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.

Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”. 

You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.

“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.

“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.

“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots. 

 Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating. 

Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin. 

Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.

***

You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.

Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.

 Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards  always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials. 

Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.

Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room. 

Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.

As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.

You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.

***

In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.

You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to  them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next. 

To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win. 

The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .

You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.

“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”

Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.

“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.

“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.

The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?

You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.

“Let’s start from the scratch?

You contemplate unsure what to say.

Was he lying?

Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become. 

When did you catch his attention?

You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.

Would your fate be different if you took his hand?

You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.

Will he let you go? 

“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”

You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?

In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.

You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.

You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.

“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.

“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”

#yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #Yandere #Childe #Tartaglia #Dialogues are hard #My brain is melting #It's 4 am where I live #Reader will have a crush on Zhongli in ch 2 #my writing

[awanderingdeal]

Hi! This is the next segment of Never Too Late, a fic where Leo helps Regulus reclaim his childhood. I've added this next one to the previous update as well, because they were both single parts and I wanted to group them, but I know I'm updating slowly so wanted to give you guys something before writing number 8! Hope you enjoy

You can find all previous parts on my masterlist

Rating: T

CW: Some talk toxic families and bad childhoods.

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove.

7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.

"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.

Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You must have some thoughts."

"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.

"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.

"It's not your fault, is it."

"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”

***

“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.

“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.

“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”

“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.

“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.

Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.

“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”

***

“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”

“That’ll do.”

“It’s not straight!”

“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.

“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.

Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.

“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”

“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.

“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”

“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”

Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he lay the gift out on the bed, running the mustard herring bone blanket through his fingers. It felt just as good now as when he had been salivating over it in the small boutique the previous day, finding it almost painful to walk away when he noticed the price tag. "Thank you."

“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.

“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”

#Regulus Black #Leo Knut #Sirius Black #Sweater Weather #Lumosinlove #cw: toxic parenting #rating: t

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 92

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"Are you sure you won't come visit Blake in the hospital?" Ruby asked me.

"Nah. I'll leave up to your team. Might visit next time, sound fair?"

I took Adam Taurus's weapon. I added to my collection. It was in one corner next to Tyrian's wicked blades.

"I-um I guess," Ruby returned. "I really don't think she'd be bothered by it."

"But can you say that she'd be pleased by it?" I asked rhetorically.

"Well…" she hesitated. Her silver eyes flicked away from mine.

" Ahp , you had to think about it. Trust me. I'll just leave it to you girls for now. Next time. Mayhaps."

"What are you going to do around here?" Ruby asked. "If you're not coming with us, that is."

"I'm going to be with Oscar and Ozpin. Helping Winter Schnee get a handle on her new powers," I returned easily. "Don't worry. I won't get up to any trouble."

"Trouble has a way of finding you, Cloud." Ruby smiled at me good naturedly.

I laughed a little in a low chuckle. "Well if it finds me this time it won't be my fault."

"You don't get along with Winter very well," Weiss cut in.

"She actually doesn't get along with me. I do just fine with her."

"You escalate things with her," Weiss pointed out. "You don't ever try and get things to calm down. You try and rile her up. Stop it."

"Not my fault. She still wants to tango despite how bad it went for her the first time," I returned.

"Just try and not drive her crazy. She's the only real part of my family I get along with." I could sort of get that. I wanted to be on good terms with some of my family. Like my sisters. I wanted to be on good terms with them.

But Saphron… She wanted to fight me. She didn't want to try and resist Mother. She liked her servitude. That was unsettling. Was that all I had waiting for me? And my sisters had met my Mother face to face. The things Mother had done to me she'd done with half a world between us. I hadn't actually met her face to face like my sisters had.

It made me shudder. I had no idea what she could actually do to me in person. She'd been able to dominate my mind like it was nothing through that tentacled Grimm.

"I'll do what I can," I promised half-heartedly. "Give Blake my regards."

They walked out of my little Atlas Academy room with little waves goodbye. They were adorable, with Weiss pulling Ruby along by the hand.

I got up and put my sword on my back. I strode out of the tiny Academy place of stay and made my way to the training room. I found Winter inside already with Oscar leaning on his cane.

"Cloud, good of you to join us," Oscar said in a voice that made it unclear whether it was him or Ozpin talking. I stared at him long and hard for a moment. I desperately tried to decipher who I was talking to before eventually I gave up. It was probably impossible to tell at some points by the very nature of the way that they were becoming one.

I was merging in an odd way with my Mother but hey...At least I wasn't Oscar. He was really becoming one with the enormous alien mind. I could at a minimum divide myself between where I began and where my Mother ended. Oscar didn't have that. He just had a steady blurring of lines as he conjoined with the old wizard.

"It's no problem. Just not sure what light I can shed on the subject that you don't already know." I crossed my arms and stared at Oscar. I still wasn't sure who I was addressing.

"You've fought Cinder the most. You have more insights into her powers than anyone else. Some seasons tend to rhyme with one another. This summer with that other particular spring."

I supposed that made a certain amount of sense.

"Didn't you fight her too?" I asked.

"Yes, when she destroyed Ozpin's body, but her powers were only just settling in then. I fear that most of what she used was her semblance not her maiden powers."

"You know what her semblance is?" I wondered. That would be important information to have for those of us who were looking to kill her.

Like me.

"Pyrokinesis I suspect. But it's only a suspicion." He tapped his cane twice against the ground. His Hazel eyes glowed. "It blends rather well into the maiden powers, I suppose."

"What other powers does Cinder Fall possess?" Winter asked. She cut in for the first time. And it was the first time I'd seen her since she became the maiden. She didn't look or feel any different to my senses. She looked the same as ever, tall and in white.

Oscar stood in silence and seemed content for me to take the lead so I shrugged and answered, "she's got control over wind and lightning like you might with dust. And then she can fly, too. Hard to be sure which comes from which maiden part though. She could fly and control wind before she became spring. The lightning seemed new but it's impossible to tell."

"I understand. You believe my own powers will turn out similarly to Cinder's," Winter noted.

"Precisely," Oscar nodded. "We feel that seasons that take shape around the same time frame are a great deal like the others. This isn't always the case, however. Magic can take all forms. Cloud's powers are nothing like that of any maiden from recent memory."

"But I may have this power over the elements as well and flight," Winter interpreted. "Just like dust, then."

"Yes, why don't you give it a try now? Whatever feels most natural when you reach for the maiden powers," Oscar said.

Winter breathed in deeply and shut her eyes. When she opened them again there was a silvery flare to the sides of her eyes. The same color as her aura had been.

She stretched out a hand…

But nothing happened. Sort of anticlimactic.

"I am unsure where to start. I can feel my new powers but can't quite understand them."

"Why don't you try modifying your semblance. Casting a spell that normally requires dust to execute but just with the powers in hand and your semblance," I suggested. "It's pretty much what I do with my own magic."

Winter gave me an even look at my genuine helpfulness but she nodded. She extended a hand and an enormous glyph radiated to life behind her easily enough. Then lightning flared from it. It wasn't strong or very well directed. But there was a crackle of sparks across it that was vectorless.

Winter dropped panting. She'd been holding her breath as she did it.

"Oh and don't forget to breathe," I snarked. She managed a weak glare back up at me where I stood with my arms crossed.

"You know, Cloud ," she emphasized. "I hardly like you being around my little sister."

"Yeah well I hardly like being alive. We can't all get what we want," I bit back. "Why don't you try it again? With breathing this time, that's important."

She nodded and got back to her feet. She breathed deeply this attempt and her eyes flared with that magical sign of the maidens.

A glyph hovered to life above us and ice came raining down through it. A jagged shard bounced off my aura and I hopped back a step.

"Sorry. I didn't quite manage what I wanted," she snarked back at me.

"Did you want to impale me? Because any time you want to go, sister. Let's go, whenever you're ready."

"Now, now," Ozpin chided. "Ms. Schnee just lost control for a moment. I'm sure it was unintentional."

"See, unintentional," Winter agreed.

"Yeah of course, never would have you pegged for childish," I muttered.

"We are all often not as others expect." She smiled cheerfully.

"Why don't we give flight a shot?" Ozpin asked.

"I am unsure how to begin with that," Winter said. Which was fair enough. You give somebody a bunch of new powers and you couldn't suddenly expect them to know how to use them. Especially with something as vague as the maiden's powers which took different shapes naturally.

"I could just drop you from the roof and see what happens," I cut in. "Experiment."

"Any serious suggestions would be appreciated," she returned smoothly.

"Maybe I was serious," I murmured. "Come find out."

"Well Mr. Strife, how is it that you fly?" Ozpin asked. "It has been some time for me."

"Not really sure. It's sort of subconscious. I just did it while my semblance was active. Then I sort of just imagine moving around once I get up to speed to control it."

"Unhelpful," Winter decided. I felt like she wasn't being super fair on that one.

"Cinder can do it so you better be able to figure it out. Can't let her outperform you, she'll be gunning for you next," I shot. "Try to imagine yourself rising on a pocket of air. That helps me."

"What makes you think she'll come for me?"

"You were the obvious choice for Ironwood to pick as the new maiden. It's an open secret how close the two of you work. I was able to figure it out and there's no reason she won't be able to. You have gotta assume she knows that you're the new maiden or close to it."

She nodded, then she closed her eyes in focus and breathed hard. The wind might have picked up a little in the airtight room. A breeze bustling through but she didn't start to rise up off the ground or anything.

"We will keep at this. You've been more than helpful, Mr. Strife."

"That's exactly what I shoot for."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

"Blake’s going to be okay. She was especially happy with the news that Adam is dead," Weiss informed me later that night around the dinner table.

“Dead as a doorknob,” I agreed. “It’s just a shame that my sisters slipped away.”

“What would you even have done with them had you gotten them?” Weiss asked. “They seemed awfully determined to be on Salem’s side.”

“It’s not their fault. They’re brainwashed,” I defended them partially.

My sisters were a touchy subject. They were a shadow of what I could be. What I would otherwise have been. If Mother had her wicked way. It was hard to hate that. It was in a sense like hating my potential self. There but for a flip of a coin went I. I could still end up like them. I could still become a monster.

Mother's influence on me was still there. It was always pressing. And that was without having ever seen her face to face. The sort of mind magic she could bring to bear against me must be unreal in person. How was I ever going to kill her? Or at least cut her fucking head off and bring her as close to death as she could be brought. I didn't have a clue.

“But how are you going to change that?” Yang wondered. “It’s one thing if somebody wants to fight it like you do but they just want to give in.”

“I… I don’t know. But I can’t exactly abandon them or kill them. It wasn’t their fault that this happened to them and besides they're still my… still my family,” I murmured. “You know what I mean? I can’t leave them to that.”

“But if they don’t want to be saved then there’s nothing we can do for them, Cloud.” Yang pointed her fork at me. “You’re different but your sisters seem to want it.”

“I can’t just give up on them,” I protested. “I have… I have so many memories of time spent with them. They matter to me.”

I could remember so much. So much time spent with them. It was all fake but it still made me feel something. Weiss said my feelings were valid it was hard to agree when there was so much fake pressure from Salem.

“But those memories aren’t real. They’re an illusion,” Blake cut in. “The only times you’ve met them they attacked you.”

“Maybe…” I muttered. "It seemed mostly playful though. Like they weren't trying to kill me."

"Playful murder?" Yang asked. "Are you serious or…?"

“Cloud you can’t save people who don’t want to be saved.” Weiss patted my hand. “You need to come up with a real plan to deal with them.”

“I suppose we’ll have to fight them,” I said. “I suppose… that I’ll have to… I’ll have to kill them, if they can’t be saved they can only be put down. It’s what I would want if I fell to my Mother.”

“Do you really mean that, Cloud?” Ruby asked. “That you would want to… you know…”

“Die?” I asked. “Probably, yeah. It's better than being a puppet, you know?”

“I do,” Weiss whispered. “It won’t come to that, we’ll keep you from falling to her.”

"Yeah. I suppose."

"Cloud. We will keep you safe from her. You have to believe in that," Ruby murmured.

"I'm starting to, a little."

And I was. Things had been better with Weiss's and Ruby's help. I'd heard fewer whisperings from my Mother. I'd had fewer command auditory hallucinations. I had a wall erected in my mind between my Mother and I so that less of her spilled over into me. She was like ink in water, spreading out and getting into every gap. Under currents carried her influence every which way only it was inside of me.

It was hard to imagine I'd ever be totally free of her. Her tendrils reached deeply into my mind. I couldn't help but imagine it was the same for my sisters. Only they met her face to face and experienced the kind of magic she could hurt us with for real. It must have been terrible. It must have been beautiful. I imagined giving in for a moment. What it would feel like.

My Mother's influence was unbelievable. It was always present in me but there was a sort of stopping point I'd managed to create that halted her from having total rule over me.

It would feel like nothing else to give into her wishes and do what she wanted. I wasn't sure that sex would be able to compare. And Saphron had made it sound so good. She made it seem so sweet. The way her voice had purred when she talked about submitting. I got that. I really did. I just didn't want it for me. It would me losing everything that I had built up here.

It would mean sacrificing all my friendships and relationships and more. It would cost me my soul. I just couldn't give in even though every day Mother inflicted some new horror onto me. It was agony but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'd have to immolate all my wishes and desires and dreams to become something else. Something with a new and different and terrible purpose. I'd be a weapon in her hands and nothing more.

I liked having the 'more' it was what made me feel. It made me feel Cetra. I wasn't sure what I'd be without it. So I couldn't give in. But my sisters, they had already slipped under.  

They'd bowed their heads under the surface and they drank from those dark waters deeply. They became something less than Cetra. Saphron had said so herself. It was that which separated me from them and the Grimm too. The Grimm was a part of me but I didn't have to acknowledge it. I didn't have to let it rule me.

Maybe it was nothing and just maybe that was everything. Maybe it was all I needed to resist. I wasn't sure. I couldn't be sure until I ran into her again. It was a trial by fire and nothing else. There was no middle ground.

It meant that I couldn't afford any mistakes when I was next in her presence. It meant I could just collapse and become nothing again like I had before.

I just couldn't tell until next I saw her.  

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

#rwby #ff7 #ffvii #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc #white knight #whiteknight #white rose #whiterose #lancaster #war of the roses #winter schnee #motion sickness

[tessa-has-a-writeblr]

♡ Writeblr intro ♡

Hello!

I may be a new to writeblr but am by no means a new writer. I’ve been writing since I can remember, and it’s one of my dreams to be published :) 

fun fact : I used to hate writing poetry because I couldn’t rhyme to save my life...still can’t rhyme, but LOVE writing poetry now! I know poetry doesn’t need to rhyme but it took myself a long time to convince myself of that!

 Now I spend most of my days online thinking of new ideas for poems, short fiction, and novels. 

I have three WIPs right now. One is a poetry book called Spilled Milk, the other is a short story collection called A Promise to Make is a Promise to Break, and the third and final one is a novel I am working on called Airplane Mode.

I love surrealistic stories and poems. I’m a fan of psychological thrillers and contemporary fiction. I enjoy the nitty gritty that most people are to uncomfortable to actually talk about, not because it is stuff that I support but rather I want people to get an inside look of from a different perspective. I want people to be perplexed and disgusted all at the same time. Think, Lolita.

I identify as nonbinary using the pronouns they/them, I am 18 and bisexual. I have a boyfriend whom is the light of my life (and fire of my loins.) I’ve been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder since I was fourteen years old and it has been a fucked up journey, one that I’m not even half way done with yet. It’s a hard illness but I truly believe it has made me as great of a writer as I am now. I want people to see the truly dark sides of mental illness, not the overly glamorized ones. I want them to see the abuse of others, the guilt tripping, the unintentional manipulation, all of the things that make people angry - and all of the things that are all apart of mental health, The ones that aren’t glamorized or talked about nearly enough.

If you want to see some cool, twisted, messed up writing give me a follow and reblog! I want some mutuals :) if you want some more writing friends also hit that follow button!

#bpd #bpdsucks #mentalhealth #mentalhelp #ana #writeblr #writing #wip #writeblrwip #writeblrintro #surrealist #art #poetry #dark #darkpoetry #spilled poem #spilled ink #borderline #borderline personality disorder #i am borderline #traumacore #trauma #traumaart #trauma art #lgbt #lgbtq #loveislove #lolita #mentally fucked #anxiety

[imma-lil-teapot]

TMNT 2003/2k3 Headcanon: Crying - (Leonardo)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Okey-dokey then, with the global epidemic that is the Coronavirus well in action and most of the world stuck in lockdown (starting this Friday for us too), felt like getting the ‘ol creative juices flowing with a little headcanon-y thingy in preparation for -possibly- more fandom writings to keep myself busy during the house arrest (well... it kinda is!) and hopefully my mind off all the bad news. :( 

Also, this is totally my first one on the blog! WOOT! Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!  

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But... well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO - You are here

RAPHAEL

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Don’t have the foggiest.

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

And apparently gifs too, so without further ado: (Completely unintentional but in actuality, totally intentional rhyming)...

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~LEONARDO~

-- It’s no easy feat to make the leader in blue turn on the waterworks. Leo won’t cry for any old reason. It’s not because he has no emotions, far from it, but being the leader of a small ninja clan -who happen to be family as well- is no easy task in itself: he has a lot on his young shoulders and deals with many issues on a daily basis few his age ever have to.

-- It’s because of these reasons that Leo doesn’t cry often. One of the lesser likely to out of the four brothers. But when he does, it’s an emotionally distressing sight to behold. 

-- Leo tends to cry whenever those closest to him -namely his brothers, his father/master and truest friends- are severely injured or are in a dire situation. Remember his angry/moody arc? The thought of losing any of them causes him great pain and distress, especially if he were the cause of any of it, and when that happens, he can’t stop the dampness that forms around his eyes and soaks into his mask. 

-- He’s not fond of crying, especially in front of others, even though he fully comprehends its normalcy. He feels he needs to be everyone’s rock, their fortress of physical and emotional stability to turn to for strength when things get rough... So when the tears start to fall, he feels he can’t show them, can’t allow them to watch him crumble under the gripling weight of helplessness and anguish.

-- He frantically wipes at his eyes and desperately attempts not to sniffle, but it’s a hopeless battle, for his tears are already a steady stream. 

-- He’ll try to hide when possible, usually retreating to his room to allow the worst of the emotions to spill over before returning to the others... Though he may be in there a while: when Leo lets his emotions go, it can be just as powerful as his red-banded brother’s rage. 

-- He spares no time in making sure the coast is clear for the tears are already streaming by the time he reaches his futon, and there’s no stopping them now as he lets himself drop to his knees, only halfway onto the mattress. He purposefully leaves the room unlit, cloaking his form in the darkness. 

-- He sniffs a few times as he shuffles up against the wall, sitting upright against it, bringing his legs up and hugging them loosely and droops his head against a single knee pad. 

-- His voice desperately wishes to escape. To express its misery. But he won’t allow it to, often placing one hand over his face in a bid to quell the sadness and remain silent in the battle against his own inner turmoil. He refuses to let anyone see him in that state of utter sorrow and vulnerability.

-- He whimpers ever so slightly and coughs a few times as breathing becomes difficult. He knows this episode won’t be over any time soon. Fortunately, he keeps some tissues next to his bed for such rare occasions and tries not to blow too loudly. He thinks back to the last time he cried so hard... It’s been a while. It felt like a build up. 

-- Time has been forgotten as he’s lost in deep thought. By the time he slips a hand across his eyes, only the material of his mask is still slightly damp. He clears his nostrils a couple of times before considering whether he was ready to return to his family. He’d of course straighten up his bedding beforehand, and would also require a trip to the bathroom to wash his face. A true ninja leaves no evidence. 

-- Leo tries to put the horrifying images out of head before leaving his quarters. He doesn’t wish to be weighed down again and thus maybe cause his emotions to come out a second time. He knew someone would catch on that time. Instead, he holds his head up high, focusing on the there and now to carry him forward.  

BONUS EXTRA~

-- Failure is also one of his greatest foes. Leo despises it, but not in the irrational sense; he fully comprehends that in order to grow, one has to lose in order to learn and thus, succeed in turn, and while it can frustrate him when he’s unsuccessful at mastering a martial arts technique for example, he understanders it’s part of the process and that no one’s perfect. 

-- It’s when his slipups could spell casualties or death to his family and/or friends is when it weighs down on him like a boulder strapped to his shell. 

-- A really big one. 

-- And it hurts. So much so that it causes him to become despondent and often teary-eyed when no one’s looking.

-- Boi Bloo might also cry from especially sad movie scenes. He gets seriously into the story, and when the scene is just right -perfect music, perfect timing etc.- you may just catch Fearless with watery eyes. 

-- He can’t help it. After all, he’s a leader, and very caring and kind-hearted individual, so movies showing children or anyone/anything defenceless getting hurt has him not only visibly upset, but also angry at the cause. He’s a softie like that. 

-- He won’t have a meltdown, of course, but the tears are definitely there. Just don’t tease him too much; he’s easily embarrassed by it. ;) 

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

You had figured something was up by the time you’d finished greeting everyone in the Splinterson household except for the Turtle you’d long to see most and he hadn’t made his presence yet known. 

The idea that he must’ve been practicing or meditating swiftly vanished when Mikey told you he’d been in his room in the dark for the past few hours. “The guy hardly ever naps, and even so, never this long.” He’d told you. “I dunno, (Y/N), we were about to check on ‘im when you arrived, but maybe you should be the one to. Think he’d really appreciate it.” And there was absolutely no argument from your side as you were already making your way up to the room.

You didn’t know what to expect as you neared the doorway. Could he possibly still just be sleeping? Meditating in the dark instead of his usual spot by the training area? Or... was he sick? The latter now had you concerned and you picked up your pace... Only to pause mid step when an unmistakable sound reached your ears: a sniffle.

Had it come from within his room? It was the only logical explanation as everyone else was downstairs. You were truly perturbed now as you stood outside the doorway and called out the ‘eldest’ Turtle’s name.

There was some shuffling to be heard but you were unable to tell for sure what he was doing -probably trying to neaten up his bed- “(Y/N)? Just a second, okay?” he responded in a rather awkward verging on frantic tone, and you were certain you heard another sniffle escape him. 

That, along with the way he’d replied really didn’t help to put your mind at ease. “Leo, are you alright?” Nor was the pitch blackness in which he remained concealed in.

“Yeah, just... l-looking for something.” There was some more shuffling as if to prove his point, but you were having none of it.

“Then maybe this,” you began, turning around to flick the light switch, “will help?”

“No! Wait!” But it was a split second too late for as soon the brightness illuminated the entire room, you had caught the telltale signs of an emotional meltdown in progress plastered on his face before he quickly turned away and briskly wiped an arm across his face, attempting to hide the shame... or perhaps embarrassment? 

“Leo...?” your heart and voice softened, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You automatically walked to him, closing the gap he was now trying to form. 

“Nothing,” he lied, and acknowledged it was a fruitless attempt but still couldn’t stop himself. Autopilot panic mode was enabled now. “It’s nothing.” 

Unfortunately for him, autopilot mother hen mode was activated for you as you reached with both hands to his carapace and shoulder, gently turning him to face you. “I can see that it’s something.” Your words were gentle, and you wanted nothing more than to take away his pain. “Look at me, Honey.” His body was turned but his head remained to the side. It was clear he didn’t want his obvious distress on display, even to you. “Please, Leo?” You tried again, and slowly but surely, his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart sink further.

The fabric of his mask was wet and eyes were still red with fresh tears that threatened to fall. He appeared so broken and helpless as he stared at you, and even though he uttered no words, you could practically hear him despairingly ask “Is this what you wanted? To see me at my lowest?” from his expression alone. 

Never had you witnessed the leader of this band of mutant brothers cry. At times you had wondered if he ever did, and yet here he was; the incredible pillar of strength and dignity you had come to know and adore, in tears and so dejected that you couldn’t stop your own eyes from becoming damp the more you gazed at him. “Oh, Sweety...” You whispered as you felt your soul shatter. It was too much to bear. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, one around the midsection and the other over his shoulder, and buried your face into his leathery neck, offering every ounce of comfort you could muster.

It didn’t take him long at all to sink into the embrace and return the action. Beyond the point of concerning himself with showing the pain he felt -or the wetness now soaking into your shoulder when he placed his forehead against it- he sniffed and finally allowed the tears to fall once again as fresh waves of emotion surged throughout his body.

And this time, he couldn’t keep the whimpering to himself.

“Shh~ It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothed, lightly patting and rubbing along the scutes of his shell as he weakly sobbed, finally letting go of all the sadness that gripped him. 

You weren’t even aware of what was wrong, and you most likely wouldn’t find out til later once he calmed down, but right now, he just needed you to hold him. Hold him until the hurt was gone... And so you would. 

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

OMGosh, this turned into a monster! The mother of all HCs!! :O No seriously, this wasn’t meant to be this long! I was suppose to squish all four into one itty bitty little post, but then it just grew... and grew... and GREW! Personally, I blame the Reader Bonus but I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy writing it! ;P You guys here on Tumblr got me slightly addicted to them and have wanted to attempt some myself so... Anyhoo~ I can’t really say if I’m entirely content with the whole thing, I dunno. I feel some parts are better than others (writing style-wise) but yeah, I really need to get back into the swing of things...

Speaking of which, I DO plan on adding my two cents on the other bois as well, but judging by how this one turned out, they’ll most likely all be this length, more or less, so each Turt will get his own post so I can really jot down those details with all the freedom in the world! That being said, I can’t say when they’ll be added but hopefully soon-ish. :) Raph's next on the list!

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt2003 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt2k3 #tmnt 2k3 #headcanon #headcanons #leonardo tmnt #leo tmnt #crying #it just kept on growing #tmntxreader #tmnt x reader #tmnt x oc #leo x reader #leonardoxreader #leonardo x reader #all the feels #completely shameless #angst #hurt/comfort #i like turtles #sad turts #lockdown is imminent #fluffy gooey happy ending

[gatorademachinegun]

part three of my momomina punk nerd au! now officially titled Full Throttle! 

part one    part two   

Momo leaves the room slowly, dragging her feet in the metaphorical sense, it’s improper to drag your feet literally when you're wearing heels. Ugh. Exhaustion weighs heavy enough on Momo that her mothers teachings are filling her head, instead of her own thoughts.

Fumi is gone when Momo looks up, replaced by an older brother of Shouto’s that Momo had never been close to. He nods at her as she passes, and she offers a weak smile in return.

She’s surprised when she looks over and sees Ashido Mina, sitting on the floor next to Shouto’s room, a sleeping man using her legs as a pillow. The same man that had staggered out of Shouto’s room nearly as soon as Momo herself had arrived.

Mina smiles when she sees Momo, waving over the man’s head, “Hey!”

Even though she’s whispering, her voice sounds like a gunshot in the quiet of the hospital.

Momo smiles, “I didn't realize-” she gestures at the man, grateful that she's too tired to blush at the sight of them so comfortable with each other.

“Mm? Blasty? He’s just a friend, don't worry.”

“Ah,” Momo sits in the chair  across the hall from them, careful to avoid the water spill, “when did you two meet? If I may ask?”

“Back in highschool, he was such an asshole back then. Especially in freshman year, but me and a bunch of our other friends took one look at him and went ‘yep, that’s the one we want’” Mina’s laugh is low and rich, full of memories. “I think he never really had friends you know? Especially not ones that argued with him, and drug him to movie nights. He was a lifesaver during exams. My ADHA would get so bad back then, but he was patient during our study sessions. Oh man you should have seen when Kaminari-”

Momo smiles, letting the cheerful tamber of Mina’s voice wash over her, a balance point to her own heart ache.

Shouto will lose his vision in his left eye, at least partly, and the burns will leave him scarred forever. He’s alive though, he’ll pull through.

Tears blur the cute girl in front of her till she’s just a smear of pink and brown against the white of hospital walls. Shouto made her promise to visit his mother, to tell her that he didn’t blame her. Mrs. Todoroki was taken to an institution as soon as the paramedics discerned what had happened. Oh god she’d have to be the one to tell her- tell her she’s scarred her youngest son-

“Hey,” Mina’s voice cuts through the suffocating swirl of thoughts, the weight of her hand a soothing point of pressure against Momo’s knee, “hey it’s alright. He’s strong, he’s gonna pull through.”

Momo scrubs the tears away with one hand, her quiet laugh choked with despair. “You don’t know him.”

“Oi! I’ve got his boyfriend takin’ a nap in my lap right now,” Momo smiles at the unintentional rhyme, “-I’ve got the gist of what’s going on, and he’s going to be okay. Shouto Todoroki is tough, he’s mostly gonna be annoyed that his depth perception is off when he wakes up.” Mina peers up into her face, smiling gently, “he’s okay.”

“Yeah well I’m not.”

Jerking back Momo nearly topples out of her chair. Bakugo sits up between them, rubbing sleep (or are those tear tracks?) from his eyes with one hand, glaring at her. “I’ve got a crick in my neck and everything fucking aches now, couldn’t even get a 10 second nap in with you two being all mushy mushy over my head.” He crosses his arms over his chest, slumping against the wall with a harumph.

“Aww come now Blasty~” Mina leans over into his lap, a near perfect role reversal of before, “last I heard you were all mushy over-“ the last of her sentence is cut off with Bakugou’s hand over her face, “Die,” He says flatly, then recoils flapping his hand around, “Did you just fucking lick me?!”

Sticking her tongue out at him. Mina laughs, “mushy~” she sing songs, heavy boots already scrabbling against the tiles, “Bakugo Katsuki is the mushest- wait wait wait!” Mina shrieks when Bakugo’s hand find her waist, ticking relentlessly. Momo moves further back watching with fascination as Mina forces her knee up between them, shoving Bakugo away. She rolls to her knees diving in the middle of him crowing about turna back being fair play.

Momo watches their tickle fight turn into tussle, the two of them rolling around in a flurry of elbows and knees, pink and blond and black, a blur of movement

“AHEM!”

Tucking her hands neatly in her lap Momo ducks her head, avoiding the stern looking nurse tapping her foot impatiently. Bakugo and Mina break apart, breathless and disheveled. Bakugo’s face falls into a scowl when he sees the nurse, Mina’s breaks into a blinding smile.

She has a beautiful smile, like watching a sunrise. Hot tears slide down Momo’s cheeks, will Shouto be able to smile like that with the scarring? Will he ever want to smile again? What if-

“We’ll be out of your hair in the just a second!” Mina’s suddenly at her side, a steady solid point of contact against Momo’s spiraling thoughts, “we were just-“

“M. Yaoyorozu?”

Momo blinks up at the nurse, politely dabbing at her face with her fingertips, “Yes?” She doesn’t recognize the woman.

“You're with these two.. hooligans?”

“Yes ma’am. They escorted me here and-“

“Well I expected better from the Yaoyorozu household,” the nurse snaps, bowling over Momo, “it’s disgraceful what these two are doing! Wrestling in a hospital for god’s sake! We have patients recovering in this wing and they do not need to be woken by all this rowdy behavior-“

The woman goes on but Momo can’t hear her anymore, her words echoing her mother’s constant lessons and warnings. “Disgraceful. Expected better. Rowdy behavior. ‘A lady is never unseemly and she doesn’t acocatie with those who are’

“Shut up.” Bakugou’s cold voice cuts through the woman’s scolding, through the echoes in Momo’s head. He pulls his shoulders back, standing tall and Momo is struck with the realization that he’s only a little bit shorter then her, even the same maybe, if they’re both not wearing taller shoes.

“The three of us are well within our rights to do whatever the fuck we want in this hospital. No one’s hurt and Ponytail was just a bystander. You can piss off and leave her out of it.”

Fingers dapple across Momo’s shoulders. Mina leans against her, hip cocked, the keys to her motorcycle jangling in her hand. Her fingertips press hard into the back of Momo’s shoulder, a warning or a message? Momo’s head is too muddled to make sense of it.

“We’re leaving,” Mina says coolly, rattling her keys again. She presses Momo into standing, tucking her a little bit behind she and Bakugo. “Have a nice night ma’am.”

Bakugo steps back too, taking her lead with only a quick tap against his arm to move him. He tosses an arm around her shoulders, raising one eyebrow in challenge when Momo doesn’t move to copy.

Instead she bows to the nurse, “my apologies ma’am” she says, hating how rough her voice is, “they were cheering me up as I have received poor news about the condition of a loved one.” She stands straight, “we won’t make a ruckus again.”

Feeling brave, and a little woozy, Momo slides her arm through Mina’s, feeling the back of Bakugou’s fingers brush her neck as they leave. They take up nearly the entire hall, walking in a row as they are, but the smell of leather and success carries Momo forward, her heels clicking against the tiles.

She came here on the back of a pretty girls dangerous motorbike because her best friend needed to see her to be okay again. She had held his hand as he tried to look at her past the bandages and tears. She had made a promise to him to forgive his mother. She’d watched his boyfriend take a nap in someone else's lap.

Nothing about this evening felt real. Not the warm weight of an arm linked through hers or the brush of fingers against her neck. She doesn’t feel like Momo Yaoyorozu. She feels...free

#bnha #momomina bnha #momomina #punk nerd au #full throttle au #ambers adventures #painted words #i have a lot of emotions about these four okay? let me live

[kumkaniudaku]

Un-Thinkable

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Sexual Content (18 +) 

Written By: @kumkaniudaku and @justanotherloveaffair

Author’s Note

Recommended Listening: Unthinkable (I’m Ready) x Alicia Keys (ft. Drake)

Even the most beautiful things must, unfortunately, come to an end.

At the dawn of the next morning, as CoCo and Chad lay side by side in the calm silence of their villa’s bedroom, the creeping realization that they would have to leave paradise to return to the often difficult hustle and bustle of normal life attempted to put a damper on the time spent together.

Rolling over to address his wife, Chadwick found Tasha already awake and staring at the ceiling in deep thought.

“Mornin’, baby,” he spoke in a hoarse whisper as he shuffled closer to her body. CoCo answered with a distracted greeting of her own, prompting Chadwick to make up the slack in the conversation. “What you thinking about?”

Sighing deeply, she turned on her side to face him, “Let’s just stay here. We can fly the kids out and live here for the next year. I planned it out this morning.”

“Are you being serious,” he laughed.

“Very. I’m sure there are schools for Micah. We’d, of course, have to convert to the national religion, but that’s okay. We can work on that.”

“Okay, I’m sensing something else is up. C’mon and talk to me about it.” Chadwick listened to CoCo whine as he shifted himself into an upright position against the headboard and opened his arms. It was a tradition in their relationship for matters of the mind and heart to be discussed with Tasha straddling her husband’s lap to bring them face to face in a position that offered limited opportunities for movement. The practice was mostly to stop CoCo from walking away from difficult conversations as their shared therapist suggested.

In traditional fashion, she sat up to swing her leg over his lap and settle her bottom half onto his lap. A tinge of excitement rolled through both of them as flashbacks of all other encounters in the same position flashed behind their eyes. This wasn’t one of those times, so they quickly returned to reality.

“Okay, spill it. What’s on your mind, Cookie?”

“I don’t really want to. It’s nothing, I promise.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe that. So, before I resort to more drastic measures, I’ll ask you to spill it one more time.”

CoCo’s head tilted in confusion, earning a playful eyebrow raise from Chadwick who maintained eye contact. She had no idea what his “drastic measures” were, but knowing the lengths he’d gone to before to get her share her thoughts, CoCo let out a sigh of surrender that signaled that he had one the silent battle.

“I...I just,” she stammered, playing with her fingernails and avoiding Chadwick’s gaze. “I don’t want this to end. We’re in a good place, listening to and understanding each other, and I know what the stress of life back home can do when we aren’t paying attention to us.”

“Come here, baby.” Chadwick’s fingers lightly grazed the warm skin of his wife’s thighs before dancing up her arms to pull her chest to his. She settled into the embrace and closed her eyes, preferring to listen to the steady thump of his heart in his chest.

“We’ve had our moments where we...didn’t treat each other the best. But staying in the Maldives, no matter how beautiful it is won’t stop one of those moments from coming around again.”

“Eh, save your logic and tell me what I wanna hear,” she groaned in the crook of his neck as her head rested on his shoulder.

He laughed at her childish response before kissing her forehead. “What I’m saying is, we can’t predict what will happen when we get back home and we can’t avoid it by staying here. What we can do, is take this feeling, bottle it up, and save it for those times when home feels like Hell instead of paradise.”

“Even the sex?”

“Oh, that’s what I was talking about. Were you referring to something else?” CoCo playfully pushed his chest in the midst of their shared laughter. Chadwick caught her smaller hand in his and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. 

“We don’t need to stay in this place to listen to each other and create moments that are just for us. All we need is the feeling.”

“And once a month, we could get someone to look after the kids so we make good on the promise we made yesterday.”

“Especially that. I have some thigh high socks on the way to our mailbox as we speak.”

“Oooooh, should I get a cheer outfit too? Something short and tight?”

“Mmm,” he moaned into the top of her head with his eyes closed. “Don’t tempt me, girl. I’ll make a call as soon as we land.”

The mere thought of living out his locker room fantasy set off a slow shift in the conversation, returning to the lusty haze that had characterized much of their trip. But, instead of letting their bodies become lost in the sensation of one another, husband and wife set off to make the best of their final day of leisure.

Niha arranged a guided tour of Male, the capital of the nation, opening their eyes to the customs and culture of the island. Two hours of stories from local business owners and working class members provided a tremendous amount of perspective that had been missing from the trip as they enjoyed life as tourists. A return to their tiny corner of the Earth introduced imassage therapists from the resort to greet them for a relaxing couple’s massage that added the figurative cherry on top of the vacation banana split.

As the early afternoon continued, Chadwick was grateful for the two-hour window of alone time during his wife’s nap that gave him the opportunity to revisit an old idea. A few short conversations and a package drop off quickly put Chadwick’s plan into motion, leaving time for more meaningful preparation on his end.

Chadwick, though normally conspicuous due to his height and star power, moved around the villa in stealth silence, retrieving items to place in carefully planned spots. Handwritten notes containing instructions one by one littered areas that were sure to fall along Tasha’s path when she woke up to find him gone. 

If one were to ask his wife about her feelings toward surprises, they’d be met with a lengthy diatribe about her disdain for the “extra” practice. But, Chadwick knew his wife appreciated a well thought out surprise, and as he examined the tea lights lining a walkway from the bed to the bathroom and back to the sun deck, he felt confident that he’d receive a positive reaction.

Shortly after Chadwick disappeared from the villa to tie up loose ends in another location, Tasha’s eyes fluttered open in a fight to return from the clutches of her nap. 

“Please, babe, don’t let me take another nap. I haven’t slept this much since I was pregnant.” CoCo continued to speak, giving a rundown of her dream as she ambled to the bathroom to relieve herself. Noticing a lack of response from her husband, she popped her head back into the main area.

“Aaron, are you listening to me? Chad? Oh hell, they done took my man!” Picking up the pace, CoCo made a dash for the bed to search for her phone. Her frantic search brought forth a small note scribbled with familiar handwriting.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered to herself with a smile before reading aloud.

Here’s another one of those surprises you hate. Go take a shower. You need one.

Tasha scoffed at Chadwick’s implication that she stunk but quickly sniffed inside her shirt to find herself smelling less than pleasant. She made quick work of gathering underwear and other shower essentials before reaching the en suite to handle her business. Toni Braxton flowed from the small speakers of CoCo’s iPhone as she took her time cleansing with a glass of wine resting on the edge of the tub. Thoughts of what was to come made her giddy with excitement. Would he arrange another extravagant demonstration or would their last night be more intimate? 

Reminding herself that the only thing holding her back from finding out was the time wasted in the bathtub, she quickly showered to move into hair and makeup. Another note greeted her at the “his and hers” sink across the room.

I’m sure it’s been an hour since you read the last one. There’s something for you in the closet. Don’t take too much time getting dolled up. I can’t wait to see you.

Always a lover of gift big and small, CoCo high stepped to the closet she hadn’t noticed up to this point and swung open the doors. On the only hanger available hung a flowing chiffon gown in a yellow hue that Chadwick knew would compliment his wife’s bronze skin. The structured strapless neckline accompanied off-shoulder sleeves and a ruched waist to accentuate her curves. A high slit added variation to the floor length garment, making CoCo contemplate ditching the panties she had planned for the night. Although the dress was the undisputed star of the show, Chadwick supplied the pair of Gucci sandals Tasha had been raving about for weeks.

A short and animated dance of approval broke out as CoCo stood in her towel shaking her ass in the nearby floor length mirror. That display of excitement continued in random spurts during her makeup and hair routine depending on the song playing in the background.

“I, too, hope to have sex on the ceiling,” she informed Sevyn Streeter in the middle of the song’s chorus. “The ceiling, the floor, the wall… I want it all!”

Tasha smiled at her unintentional rhyme and filed it into her mental library of reasons she should start a new career as a rapper before settling for the gloss in her hand over matte lipstick.

When she was zipped into her dress and preparing to pull her new shoes from their box, CoCo noticed a third note waiting for her.

I got these because you liked them, but I doubt you’ll need them for where we’re going. Go for something flat or no shoes at all. We’ll put these to work another day ; ).

CoCo was equally impressed and intrigued as she placed the shoes back in their box and opted for the pair of sandals she had stashed away for a more formal gathering. A short walk to the back deck presented Tasha with a note full of directions on how to locate her man.

“What in the hell are paces, Aaron,” she laughed while reading the instructions in her head. After a few feet, her path became literally etched in the sand. Hand drawn arrows pointed her in the right direction until the soft sounds of recorded string instruments grew louder.

At the end of the manmade runway stood Chadwick and his award-winning smile. Behind him, a lush dinner set up featured all the bells and whistles. Candles and red wine sat atop an ornately decorated table with a bouquet of the Maldives’ country flower, pink roses.

Tasha kept her eyes on her husband as she kicked off her sandals and sauntered closer to the man of her dreams. She was the first to speak.

“I told you I don’t like surprises.”

Chadwick caught the hint of a smile on CoCo’s face and returned it while reaching for her outstretched hand. “Punish me later, baby. I deserve it.”

“What you deserve is a kiss for looking so good and planning all of this.” Her hands slid out of Chadwick’s and up his forearm until they were anchored on his biceps.

Their lips came together for a sweet, lingering kiss before they pulled back to smile at each other.

“Happy Birthday, baby. Will you join me for dinner?”

“I’d be a fool not to.”

Chadwick led the way to the table, pulling the chair out for CoCo when they arrived before taking the seat across from his wife.

Together they enjoyed a light appetizer and sang along to the R&B playlist prepared for the night. When the main course arrived, the couple found themselves on a walk down memory lane as they recounted stories of their time as “platonic” friends.

“I’ll tell you this, Co. You were 5’9” and maybe 135 pounds soaking wet with weights on your ankles, but you were always trying to fight somebody.”

“Oh, please. I push a girl one time in the club and now I’m some heavyweight boxer,” CoCo questioned as she waved her hand to dismiss Chadwick’s claims.

“Baby...no. I’ve seen you go toe-to-toe with a guy you thought had a problem with me. That was a week after you threatened to beat up your team’s grad trainer.”

“She was a racist! She called me ‘girl’ every practice.”

“Taylor was white and from Wisconsin. She was trying to make friends and thought calling you ‘girl’, like your teammates did, was normal.”

Tasha took a long sip of her wine and shrugged, “Okay, you’re right. I should send her a basket or something to apologize. I’ve changed for the better since then.”

“You have and I’m proud of you. Cheers to mellowing out unless someone messes with the kids.”

“And my man.”

With a laugh, their glasses touched at the rim before they downed the remaining merlot colored liquid. Tasha handled their third refill while Chadwick watched her with a distant smile.

“You know we never talked about...the kiss.”

“Which kiss? We kiss a lot.”

CoCo was being intentionally dim which Chadwick noticed before kissing his teeth.

“Don’t play. The kiss in New York. We just let it happen when we should’ve discussed it.”

“Well, let’s discuss it now.”

Chadwick was taken aback by his notoriously resistant wife’s urging to discuss a sensitive matter.

“How did you feel afterward? When I saw you the next morning, you looked unphased.”

“I was far from that,” Tasha laughed over her wine glass. “I was terrified because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Get your hopes up?”

“You had just broken up with your girlfriend of two years. I felt like the rebound. Then, when you didn’t say anything, I knew it was true.”

Reaching across the table, Chadwick grabbed both of Tasha’s hands to bring them to his mouth for a kiss.

“You have not been and will never be my second option.” Tasha felt her face heat up at her husband’s sincerity, her whole being tingling from the broad smile on his face. “I gotta tell you a secret though, baby.”

“I’m all ears.”

“After that kiss, I thought some absolutely filthy shit about you. Man, it was nasty. I don’t even wanna share because it was that nasty.”

Their shared laughter could be heard over the soft music and crash of the waves. CoCo used her napkin to dab tears from her eyes while catching her breath.

“Is this where locker room fantasy came from?”

“No, that came when I met you. Your practice outfits were a sight to be seen.”

Chadwick dove head first into a description of outfits that Tasha had long forgotten, obviously embellishing his favorite details to draw a laugh from his wife. Their flirting continued and intensified through a shared dessert and an invitation to walk to another location located further down the shore.

Hand in hand, the couple strolled along the wet sand, feeling the water splash against their feet and recede at a steady pace. The setting sun painted a beautiful mural of purple and pink in the darkening sky and the once humid temperatures began to cool into a bearable breeze.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here doing this with you.”

Chadwick peeled his eyes from the waves to acknowledge his wife with a smile. “Are you happy?”

“I am...something I can’t even describe with words right now. All I can say is thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby. I don’t think this could’ve been more perfect. Even with my original plan when we were dating.”

“Sounds like you have another secret to tell me,” CoCo teased as she allowed Chad to pull her closer to his body.

“It’s not much of a secret anymore,” he laughed. “I was going to propose to you here. I had it all planned out from top to bottom, but when I came to your place for dinner, I couldn’t wait. So, I asked you then and saved the trip for another time.”

“You were about to pull out all the stops for little ol’ me?”

Tasha’s exaggerated southern accent made Chadwick laugh a deep belly laugh, “And you wonder where Mikey gets it from.”

“Whatever! Now, tell me the whole plan! Start to finish.”

“Okay, close your eyes for me.” Tasha did as she was told while Chadwick moved behind her to turn her body toward the sea. “I planned for a similar setup. We’d eat and walk for a bit. Then, when the clock hit a certain time, I would stop and get on one knee.”

“Ooooh romantic! Keep going.”

Chadwick smiled and shook his head though his wife couldn’t see.

“Then,” he started as he took a knee. “I’d tell you how much you mean to me. I’d tell you how I fumbled countless chances to make us a reality, but asked God for one more opportunity to get it right. I want to do life with you forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears had long begun a slow descent down her cheeks, but Tasha was far from sad. The smile on her face could tell anybody with eyes that her tears were another outward manifestation of her joy. The question still made her stomach flutter after several years of holy matrimony.

Turning on her heels, she found Chadwick looking up at her with the same hopeful twinkle in his eye from years ago.

“Hell yeah, I’ll marry you!”

Excitement propelled her body into his arms as they shared short kisses interrupted by giggles.

“And then you’d jump into my arms and we’d make love on the beach. I didn’t think about the moments in between that, but you were definitely naked in my dreams.”

“Someone has a public sex fantasy! It’s way tamer than mine.”

“Corporate Tasha wants to get it in outside?”

“When I was in college, I may or may not have had this fantasy of being, erm, “taken” by a fine young man on a hotel balcony during Spring Break in an extremely graphic nature. You may know him actually. About 6’3”, slim, his first name rhymes with Had-zick.”

Tasha’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively, a gesture that Chadwick returned with a smile.

“I think I might know him, but he’s with the woman of his dream right now, so he’s a little busy.”

“Mmmm.” Tasha hummed as her husband took a moment to shower her temple in short kisses. “It’s probably best we don’t live out that fantasy. Can you imagine the headlines if we would’ve gotten caught on the boat?”

“Black Panther Beach Backshots or some shit. You know how Twitter likes to get.”

“I’d be ashamed, embarrassed for our family, but…” Tasha nodded to herself with a little smile, imagining the social media reaction, “Proud.”

Chadwick threaded his fingers through CoCo’s as they resumed their slow walk, their toes sinking in the soft sand. “Well, maybe we can live out the fantasy without, you know, the life-ending and career-threatening side of it.”

Tasha glanced at her husband, the little smile permanently affixed to her features growing even bigger. It was hard to imagine her heart feeling more full.

They could have been walking for a few minutes or an hour. With the magic grandeur of the sunset surrounding them and the mesmerizing rhythm of the waves, CoCo lost track of time. Words drifted away and lost importance as they both became focused on being in the moment, experiencing each other to the fullest.

Her hand locked in his, they continued along what seemed like an aimless course, until she spotted something on the beach.

“One final surprise?” CoCo broke the silence, earning a meaningful smile in response.

A square blanket was neatly stretched out over the sand between the ocean and the tree line, surrounded by lit candles that had to have been recently arranged. A pang hit CoCo’s heart and she came to a stop several feet away. She squeezed Chadwick’s hand, a surge of emotion making her blink away the prick of tears.

He released her fingers, walking a few paces to stand fully centered in her vision with an outstretched hand, his earnest gaze paired with the natural beauty of his smile making for a sight she wouldn’t soon forget.

“Sit with me?”

An ocean wave crashed over the sand at the very moment something similar occurred within her. She took his hand. Without disrupting the candles with their flickering flames in the gentle breeze, Chadwick guided her onto the blanket with delicate steps, both careful to shake off the excess sand.

A few seconds later, a pair of warm, familiar arms shifted around her stomach, bringing her back against his solid chest. CoCo couldn’t help the relaxed, blissful groan that slipped out as they cuddled close together. Silence returned as they both watched the ever-changing sky throw a staggering celebration for their last night, painting the dome above with violet purples and rosy pinks.

The changing colors of the sky were a bittersweet reminder of the impermanence of the moment. CoCo shivered not with cold, but with knowing it would be over soon. She felt it slipping away faster than she could think.

“Aaron,” she said softly, interrupting the soft, steady breathing at her ear. “This is going to be our last time together like this for a while, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, smoothing his hands over her arms.

“Then I want to make sure we did everything we ever dreamed of.”

CoCo shifted until she was facing Chadwick, disturbing the comfortable embrace in favor of looking her lover right in the eye so she could impart all of the passion and intensity that was building inside her with just her eyes.

Chadwick’s mouth hung slightly open, hanging on her every word and movement.

CoCo continued in a husky voice, “I don’t want to leave here thinking what-if.”

He wet his lips slightly, lost in her deep brown eyes.

“What did you have in mind?”

With a dancer’s grace, Tasha got to her feet, the yellow, flowing chiffon material stirring gently about her bare legs where Chadwick’s eyes were fixed until his attention was caught by her hands, delicately, slowly, teasingly drawing the dress up and over her body.

She stood, naked and proud, finally capturing his eyes that lifted up to hers after drinking her in.

“Let’s live out our fantasies. Under the stars.”

Heat burned in their shared gaze as Chadwick crawled up to his full height. To the soundtrack of crashing waves, he cast away his clothes one by one. The illumination from the flickering candlelight surrounded them and brilliant, silvery moonlight cast highlights and shadows on Chadwick’s skin.

He closed the distance with a single step. Their lips clasped in a small, but meaningful kiss and he rested his fingers on her cheeks, tilting her face up to him.

His words were barely louder than the ocean surrounding them, but the conviction and desire in his honey-timbered baritone shook her to her core.

“I want to make love to you.”

CoCo’s lips parted with the escape of a small breath. He touched her pillowy bottom lip with his thumb, rubbing it as he watched with the barest hint of a smile.

“Will you let me?”

He barely waited for her nod before she was surrounded by his arms, wrapping warmly around her as he guided her down. The sparks flying between them had her anticipating what would be something unforgettable. As their lips connected with slow passion, CoCo consciously had to reign herself in. She wanted to take her time.

Her hands roamed down Chadwick’s back and pressed him down, bringing their bodies tightly together. His chin dropped down to her shoulder at the feel of her hot, soft skin surrounding him, especially where he was most sensitive.

“You feel me?” His whisper in her ear made her shiver and arch up against where he was slowly grinding circles into her thigh.

“Yess, I feel you baby.” She gripped his face, kissing his lips over and over.

He allowed her needy kisses before breaking away, his breathy words sending her into a foggy haze. “I want you to remember this. How I’m loving you right now.” As he was whispering against her mouth, CoCo felt the tip of him grazing her entrance. “I want you to remember this when we’re old and can’t fuck anymore.” Her smile against his mouth quickly turned into a whimper at the feel of his size spreading her slowly.

“I love you. I will always love you.”

Her world turned into pure sensation, turning her speechless at the way he was filling her with his words, his love, his body, until she felt completely, breathlessly occupied by Chadwick. As natural as a choreographed dance, their hands clasped on either side of her head and gripped tightly as he began to move, each roll of his hips drawing sharp moans of pleasure.

CoCo drifted between savoring his touch and marveling at the sky full of glittering stars, twinkling like diamonds woven into the lush velvety black of the night sky. All around her, the sound of waves combined with his voice that never seemed to stop telling her beautiful words as he made love to her body.

With a burst of energy, she unclasped their hands and nudged him, moving fluidly together until she was straddling his lap. His warm palms rested on her ass, not disrupting her but moving with her. It was his turn to be speechless at the passionate look in CoCo’s eyes as she rode him. She gripped his face, her breath coming heavily on his lips along with grunts of pleasure and effort.

“That’s it Co, get what’s yours, baby,” he encouraged, the sound of his voice driving her wild.

“I never want to stop,” she whimpered.

“So let’s never stop.” He kissed her lips, his hands gripping her waist tight to take over the pace when her energy waned, and her thrusts became lazy. “You’ve got me forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed on his lips, before their lips and tongues entangled in a fierce kiss, battling for domination over each other while he continued to bounce her up and down, the candlelight casting shadows over his flexing arms.

CoCo broke from the kiss, her mouth opening in a silent scream as Chadwick gripped her in place and pounded into her. He anchored himself with his legs and grunted, the sudden action making CoCo’s body tremor and shake. With both hands around his neck, her head fell back in surrender.

Her cries mingled with the open, balmy night air. She didn’t care how loud she screamed, with only Chadwick and the beach they were fucking on to hear her, she felt truly free.

The sharp thrusts began to slow and she curved back into his embrace, returning her lips to his for a few brief kisses that were broken up by Chadwick’s panting breaths.

“Oh god, I love you baby,” she sighed, unable to stop saying the words, wanting to moan and scream them until she was hoarse and every square inch of the island heard her.

He repeated her words back and as his thrusts became sluggish, CoCo took over the pace with a slow grind in his lap. Chadwick clenched his teeth, the cords in his neck standing out at the feel of her tight, wet pussy working him over.

He looked up at her, the pools of his eyes shining with reflected candlelight. “I want to get deeper baby. Get on your knees for me.”

A shiver went through her, knowing the fullness that position brought her and her stomach twinged with anticipation. She nodded and separated from him just long enough to crawl down from his lap, her hands and knees sinking slightly into the sand beneath the blanket as she got on her hands and knees.

A firm hand pressed on the small of her back, pushing her into a downward arch until her tummy met the blanket. The sight of her breasts squishing down made Chadwick groan behind her, hastening the tease he was planning with the need to have her now.

She gasped, taking his dick in all of its thick glory at a depth and angle that made her clench the blanket, white-knuckled. His palm pressed into her arch kept her still, and with nowhere to go, unable to crawl away from his deep thrusts, she turned into limp putty in his hands, her moans muffled by the blanket. As Chadwick’s excitement grew, his hips smacked against her ample cheeks, creating the erotic sound of clapping skin to add to the sounds of their cries.

He reigned himself in, bringing the tempo back to a slow, sensual pace as his hands massaged her. As good as she felt, he wanted her back in his arms.

Chadwick smoothly shifted his body down over hers, encouraging CoCo to straighten onto her stomach and immediately easing the ache from her arched back.

She smiled at the intimate position they settled into, with Chadwick’s elbows on either side of hers, their arms and hands entangling with each other. She felt the hot skin of his stomach and chest all along her back to her shoulder where he brushed her hair aside to kiss her cheek, just as he began to rock into her again.

She gripped his hands and bent to cover them with kisses, licks, and little bites as he alternated grinding her and gently pounding her down into the soft surface. Every time he did, she lost concentration and could only gasp.

He sacrificed one hand to move beneath her body, where he could fondle her clit and the moment he did, it was game over.

CoCo arched her back, her nails digging into Chadwick’s hand.

“That spot… right there…. Don’t stop,” she gasped, an unstoppable force beginning to build inside her.

“This spot?” His deep voice vibrated in her ear, his thrusts hitting her deeper than before.

“Yes… yes!” She cried. Overwhelmed, she grasped his hand harder, biting down on one of his knuckles. His dick filled her fast and repeatedly, the mounting action making their skin clap once more.

“Relax baby, don’t fight it… come loud and hard for me Tasha.”

Her screams began as his words ended, the sound of her bliss making Chadwick clench his teeth and involuntarily pound her harder. A powerful force moved through her, making her overloaded nerves crackle and pulse with heat. He rode her through it, using the squeeze of her tight muscles, the pain of her digging nails to fuel his own building release.

She was still whimpering with aftershocks when he rose up onto his palms, digging deep into her as his sounds and movements began their familiar pattern. She knew what each moan meant, and as the space between them shortened, she felt the urge to see him force her to cry out, “Wait, baby… wait. I want to see you.”

Chadwick immediately stopped, hovering over her and as CoCo shifted onto her back beneath him, the wide smile on his otherwise intensely concentrating face made it all worth it.

There was an entirely different kind of bliss that came with holding him as he searched for orgasm in the depths of her body. A comfort and intimacy that couldn’t be found just anywhere. CoCo’s heart pounded as love for him shook her to her very foundations. They were in another part of the world, on a secluded beach, and yet, she was home.

He couldn’t have been more beautiful as he finally released inside her. CoCo forced her eyes open, trading the view of the milky way and the beach for the vision of him locked in his own paradise. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his eyelids fluttering and twitching as the eyes hidden behind them rolled. Sweat dripped down from his forehead and she traced it along his prominent cheekbones, patient as she watched him ride out the waves.

The last vestiges of orgasm were still fading, his hips still lazily moving when he finally opened his eyes to her expression of warmth.

“There he is,” she murmured.

“Nope, sorry. Chadwick’s not here. Chadwick’s gone to another plane of existence.”

She curled her fingers into his back and they shared a laugh, both exhausted but happy and glowing, head over heels in love.

For a few minutes, they just held each other as the sweat cooled and their muscles relaxed.

CoCo’s cheeks were hurting from a grin she couldn’t wipe away.

“I’m still smiling, aren’t I.”

Chadwick kissed his wife’s upturned lips and made her giggle as he caught her teeth and kissed them too. “Yep.”

“Damn, do we really have to go back?”

“Afraid so, Cookie.”

Once again, that feeling of the moment being fleeting and about to end made her heart pang. She pushed the thoughts away, determined to enjoy the moment as long as she could.

After blowing out the candles, Chadwick got to his feet and they helped each other back into their clothes, with no concept of what time it was or really where they were, knowing only the direction they came in.

Hand-in-hand, they mutually decided to take a path back along the edge of the ocean, where gentle, warm waves trickled over their feet and the compacted sand sank under each footprint, quickly filling with shallow pools of water in their wake. The ocean and beach caught and reflected the moonlight, making the night seem dreamy.

At the end of their slow ambling walk, they returned to a location they both recognized but cleared of the elaborate dinner table and only a faint impression remaining of their earlier footsteps.

CoCo unexpectedly stopped in her tracks, a lump growing in her throat at how easily their romantic dinner spot had been packed up and swept away.

“Why does this make me feel so sad,” CoCo mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes as she looked side to side, not finding even a crumb from their dinner left behind.

Chadwick turned, studying the face of his wife as he took both of her hands, squeezing them until she lifted her eyes up to his.

“Because something beautiful happened here and now it’s gone without a trace,” he remarked, pausing before he continued. “But it’s not…. not really,” the corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “I still remember how good that wine tasted. Do you?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, a curve of her own smile beginning.

He clutched her tight to him, wrapping his arms around her back. “And that chocolate cake, mmmm that was good.”

She laughed, the memory of it coming back so vividly she could taste it, and all at once she got his point.

Grateful for how he always knew the right thing to say, she snuck her hands around his back, hiding her face in his chest and feeling herself rejuvenate in the comfort of his arms.

“If I forget a second of this Co, I won't want to live anymore.”

She pulled away and tilted her head up to his, finding his eyes glossy with tears. They shared a moment of silence and understanding, followed by her clasping his hand, filled with conviction to enjoy the remaining hours, minutes, and seconds.

As they began to wander back to the villa, she awaited the right pause in the serious moment to say,  

“Don’t forget, those thigh high socks are on their way home.” Her lips quirked up, eyes sliding sideways to meet Chadwick’s who immediately broke out into a grin.

“Well, now I can’t wait to leave.”

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[an-angels-blessing]

Dream Catcher

Song🐣🎵- The Wolf And The Sheep Artist🤸‍♂️🎤- Alec Benjamin Warnings😳⛔- Slight angst, anger, fluff Prompt🥺🔥- N/A

The twenty students sat in their seats, simply staring at the adults standing at the front of the class beside their teacher. Behind the desk stood a man of average height with dark circles under his eyes and a scarf wrapped around his neck, despite the fact that it was still summer. On the right of him stood a tall man with red hair and fire blazing from his suit. Next to him stood a smaller male with vermillion wings, a woman with large bunny ears leaned on the man's shoulder in a playful manner. Lastly, the youngest of the adults sat on top of the desk, she was a dark complexion with a large afro and a bodysuit with a mix of garnet and black. To complete the look, she wore large rectangular glasses that covered the entirety of her eyes. (I just made her Garnet, didn’t quite feel like creating a whole new costume.) A small smile could be seen on the youngest face, while a smirk was clear on the shortest and his friend.

The first to break the silence was the teacher of the class. “So today we will be welcoming the top 4 heroes who took time out of their days to come talk to you about how they became heroes. Today we will have Hawks, Endeavor, Miriko, and Dream Catcher.” His voice was monotone and void of any emotion, but he still managed to keep the attention of his entire class as he motioned towards the heroes that stood beside him. “We will be starting from the youngest, Dream Catcher who is only 19.” His next sentence pulled everyone’s attention to the hero that sat on the desk. “Thank you Shota. Hi 1-A. '' Her voice was high and almost didn’t match her look. The entire class spoke in unison, responding to her greeting. “Hello Dream Catcher '' It was so well done that Dream Catcher questioned if this had been practiced before or were they always this creepy. Nonetheless she stood from the desk and began walking around the students desks, touching a few that were familiar. “God, I remember sitting in those exact same seats 3 years ago. It’s crazy how time flies. But, I guess I’m not really here to talk about you guys am I. So, who here knows my real name?” The hero did an entire lap, not oblivious to the stares coming from almost all of the male students, before sitting on the floor in front of the desk she was just seated on.

The first to raise their hand was Mineta, though a few other hands were close behind. “Alora Truman.” His voice was nasally and held a lot more than adoration. “You are correct, I know most heroes don’t disclose their real name for safety reasons, but knowing a hero’s name only means something if they have something to protect or hide, and well… I don’t. So, what else do you guys know about me?” Through the entire conversation the smile on Alora's face never faltered in any way. Deku was the only one to raise his hand, Alora wasn’t a spotlight hero, despite being in the top 5, so this wasn’t surprising. She was as well known as Aizaiwa. “Yes Deku?” The green haired boy's face quickly turned crimson, “Y-you know my name?” This made Alora giggle slightly. “Of course I do, you remind me a lot of myself. But, what’s your response?”

This set the boy back on track, leading to an unneeded monologue. “Your name is Alora Truman, you are 19 and born out of the US. You randomly started appearing in the news headlines shortly after the beginning of the school year. Your quirk is Dream control, it allows you to get into the mind of anyone you want, allowing you to see their thoughts as well as control them. You can also tell the future. Your hero name is Dream Catcher, originating from your name which means faith in my dream.” The boy continued to stammer about useless facts even Alora had forgotten about. “ Thank you Deku, I guess there is a lot of information on me after coming to Japan, how about I tell you a story about this… girl I met in America. She is the reason I am a hero today. Her name is Jenny, and she was cursed with a deaging quirk.” The room fell silent, ready to listen to whatever Alora had to tell them, she was going to run over her designated time but no one was going to interfere, it seemed… important.

“Everybody has to get older, even Jenny. She's just nineteen, young and naive.” When she started speaking, she sounded as though this story was about more than just a ‘girl’ she met. “ She wants to find a way to be endless. Fight the science, in defiance, and be timeless” This line brought the other heroes truly into what she was saying, it wasn’t rare for quirks to not work how people intended, I mean look at Deku and Eri. Yet, this seemed almost villainy. “Silly little girl who tried to live forever. Gave away her soul to buy a bit of pleasure, oh the bitter pleasure.” She was almost talking in riddles, her words were clear yet there was a message hidden within each word. “Wicked little boy who tried to steal her treasure, for the bitter pleasure. Now they're cursed forever.” Her head was now tilted to the ground as she continued to speak, yet… true to her character, there was still a smile on her face. All Might would have loved to meet her, yet she is rarely seen in public.

Her words were no longer riddles, it was like talking to a child. Trying to explain things in a simpler manner while not saying too much to scare them. “And if you could see the look in her eyes. You know the term a wolf in sheep's clothing? Well, the wolf wore the sheep. As a perfect disguise” Nursery rhymes, everytime Alora was beginning to make sense she would throw something else into the mix. “She can't believe that she fell for his lies. He promised forever, but she never knew the price.” The entire class was confused, and I bet that if Alora was to look back, the pro heros were just as confused. Yet, no one had the confidence to question, almost no one. There was one hand raised out of the 20 students that sat before her. “Yes Sero?” The hero in training cellophane wasn’t one to participate in class, but I guess this also wasn’t a normal class. “He promised forever? What does that mean?” She hesitated for a moment, and during that period the residential idiot of class 1-A spoke up. “But how would she not know the price” Kaminari wasn’t trying to be rude but a lot just wasn’t making sense. “Don’t be rude, Kaminari. Continue Ms. Truman.” The class president spoke loudly and swiftly to not disturb the class for too long. His politeness made her reminisce to a simpler time, “No need for the prefix Iida, I know Tensei, Just call me Alora.” She lifted her head slightly so the class could see just how sincere her smile was. “But here, I’ll re-explain. He promised forever, but I never knew the price.” Her words caught everyone off guard, instead of going into more detail like everyone thought she would, all she did was change the noun… the story was no longer about a girl named Jenny.

With one word change the entire story became about Alora. And this confused everyone.  “Wait… what?” Almost everyone spoke simultaneously, this changed everything they knew.  “You?” How could it be so, she said Jenny… a girl from America… who was nineteen… the pieces were all there, but who would think to connect the dots.  “As I got a little bit older. Look at Jenny, now I’m ninety. Still look nineteen” It was physically impossible, it should be… but with today’s age and the development of quirks… you never know. Yet again, she isn’t from this day and age, so just what is her quirk… or quirks. “And all I know to do is surviving, staying alive and now I’m crying. 'Cause I’m not dying” Alora took out a hidden knife and slashed her throat, all the students closed their eyes, afraid to see the now dead hero sitting on their classroom floor. “You can open your eyes.” To their surprise the hero still sat on the floor, no blood, no wound, but the knife still present in her hand.

Another failed attempt at suicide, she knew it wouldn’t work, but she was hopeful anyway. Alora’s voice lowered, she was less talking to the class and more talking to herself… wondering just where everything went wrong.“Silly little girl who tried to live forever.” Somehow the story still managed to amaze not only a few of the members of 1-A, but a few teachers as well. “But how? It’s impossible.” The winged hero, Hawks, asked his best friend silently, to no reply he stopped asking… at least out loud. “Gave away my soul to buy a bit of pleasure. Wicked little boy who tried to steal my treasure, for bitter pleasure. Now we're cursed forever, cursed together” Tears started streaming down the hero's face, the streaks could be seen coming from under her glasses. “And if you could see the look in my eyes. The wolf wore the sheep as a perfect disguise. And I can't believe that I fell for his lies.” Alora hadn’t had a true friend in over 70 years… too afraid, they would die in the end… so why grieve. This made her life easier, but it also made it very lonely.

Her next action was unintentional, she continued to repeat the line again and again. Each time lower than the last, drowning out her own voice like a microphone. “He promised forever, but I never knew the price. He promised forever, but I never knew the price. He promised forever, but I never knew the price.” She was replaying the incident over… and over… and over… and over again to see that if she wasn’t so naive then she wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.

“I lost my life because of men like Endeavor. Men that want all the power for themselves, why? Because they can. He is going to come up here and give this big speech about how he was born for greatness. The day his quirk manifested he knew what he ‘had’ to do. And Todoroki… I am so sorry. I saw your past and your future, well… I saw all of yours. And I will say that you will all become amazing heroes.” With this Alora took off her glasses, revealing that she had three eyes. “This… is what I am. And you should never be afraid to show people that you are strong because of what makes you different. Your scars, your bark, your blind trust.” Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she addressed the future heroes.

The hero didn’t stand up, but her tone was enough to know that she was serious. “Izuku Midoriya. Front and center.” The shy boy was hesitant to stand up, it’s not like the girl could punish him but there was something terrifying about this woman. It could be the story, because now there was no telling if the information on her was true or false. The boy was now standing in front of the not so young hero, terror in his eyes. “Let me see your notebook, the one Bakugou destroyed.” Her voice was calm and soothing, she wasn’t demanding… yet with that tone you couldn’t come up with a reason to reject her anyway. So it didn’t take long for him to go back to his seat and grab the burnt notebook from the inside of his desk. “Um.. H-here Ms.” He reached out the notebook directly in front of her face because of the awkward angle. As she flipped through the pages, she could see the short descriptions of his middle school classmates. Yet, as she flipped through they got less and less descriptive. Until she turned to the page about heroes, the first one was Kami Woods and it went all the way to Aizawa. The information included not only their weaknesses, but ways to make them stronger as well. What shocked her was the last pages of the book, it was all information on her. The pages included different questions and this put an honest smile on her face. All she could do was look at the boy, and laugh. “It’s funny, if you took a different road on that day. You would have run right into Shigaraki, your future could have been very different.” She spoke slowly as she stood up, now towering over the small boy. She placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, showing the boy not only her past but also the information he had incorrect about other heroes. All the boy could do was be amazed, there were 24 other people in the room yet she chose to tell him. “I’ll let someone else go, but if any of you ever need anything. My agency is always open to students.” With that the hero not only left the room but the school as well.

Deku waited to hear something on Alora, but she wasn’t a spotlight hero so it was rare. But with the increasing amount of villains on the street, even the heroes in the shadows were receiving their 15 minutes of fame from the media. Yet, it was almost as though she disappeared. And she had, after seeing class 1-A’s past, she had been reunited with the man that ruined her life, Kai Chesaki.

Masterlist

#1-A #My hero academia #Song stories #1 A Students

[awanderingdeal]

Never too late - 6 - 7

A continuation of Leo and Regulus’ attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.

CW: Food talk

Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

[This is currently unedited, and I'm not that happy with it, but also my writing mojo has decided it is vacay time so it is what is it]

6. Go to camp! You’ll make friends for life.

“Le! Did you order something?” Finn called, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a large box.

“Yeah, it’s the t-shirts,” Leo nodded, scraping the onions he’d just chopped into the pot. “Put it on the island for me please, babe.”

Finn looked down at the box, making a show of testing its weight before he looked back at Leo with wide eyes, “This seems like...a lot.”

After adjusting the temperature on the stovetop slightly, Leo washed his hands and made to inspect the delivery. “Err, yeah. Potts got wind of the plan and got all excited. Half the team are coming now,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Of course that happened,” Finn threw his head back with a laugh. “You might as well make it a thing.”

“A thing?” Leo repeated, throwing Finn a bemused look.

“Uhh huh,” Finn nodded.

“I’m gonna need more, babe,” Leo said, lifting one of the shirts out of the box and running the material through his fingers, humming a note of approval.

“More shirts? There’s like 50 here,” Finn frowned.

“No, love,” Leo laughed, shaking his head “More on what a ‘thing’ is.”

“Ohh, got you,” Finn chuckled, leaning against the counter. “I just meant, if half the team is coming anyway, you might as well invite the other half. Get the kids involved. You know, a thing.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Leo cocked his head.

“Well, I did go to Harvard,” Finn shrugged, rooting around in the fruit bowl to find a suitable pear. One that wasn't too big because Finn got bored of flavours quickly and could never finish them. One that wasn't too soft, because he hated the sticky mess on his hands. In the early days of their relationship, Leo had been excited for the adventures that were going to come with his boyfriends, but he hadn't been prepared for how much the little nuggets of information he would discover about them would mean to him. The satisfied smile that appeared on his Finn’s face as he procured the perfect one was infectious.

“Such big brain energy and yet he still can’t load a dishwasher,” Leo retorted, motioning to the stack of crockery that had been abandoned on the counter.

***

“I have no idea why I put up with you,” Regulus scowled, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I promise I can’t see.”

“Because I’m your best friend, obviously,” Leo replied, making a stupid face to ensure that Regulus was, in fact, telling the truth, and began to lead him towards the back door.

“Obviously,” Regulus drawled. “Do I get a choice in this best friend business?”

“Well, you can try and resist it if you want, but I am incredibly loveable and inevitably you will have to succumb to my charm so you might as well just deal with it,” Leo said.

Regulus gave a resigned sigh, “I suppose as best friends go you aren’t too bad.”

Leo laughed, punching Regulus lightly in the shoulder before telling him to watch out for the step up into the back yard.

“I hope you know that if I break my neck, you will be paying for -” Regulus started.

“Wegggie!!” Harry shouted through a mouthful of graham crackers that James had been trying to buy his silence with.

“Is that?” Regulus pulled his hands from his face, his eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Leo had to admit he may have gone a little overboard with the execution of the summer camp. What had started off as a few classic summer camp activities had turned into a carefully planned extravaganza. There was a climbing wall and he’d hired an events team that taught archery. Between the games of dodgeball and capture the flag, there would be time for tye-dying, friendship bracelet making, water balloons, tug of war and much more. Of course he hadn’t skimped on the food either: burgers, pizza, vegetable sticks, taco salad and hot dogs; there was a long buffet table laden with an endless supply.

Regulus pulled Leo back inside, tugging him further into the kitchen so that the crowd of Lion’s players and their families couldn’t see them. “Leo, this is too much.”

Leo looked at Regulus trying to read his friend, but the other boy was infuriatingly closed off. “Look, if you really don’t want this, I’ll go and tell everybody to enjoy themselves and we can get out of here.”

Regulus huffed out a breath, “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s...it’s weird everybody being here. They are obviously just here because you asked them and I feel like an add on.”

“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Leo held up a hand. “You practically live at Kris’ house the amount of time you spend there with Avie. Celeste loves you like a seventh? eighth? child...honestly, I’ve lost track of how many children they’ve adopted at this point. You and Olli…”

“Alright, alright,” Regulus interrupted, “I get your point.” He cocked his head slightly, “Huh, I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve settled here.”

“You need a second to process that or are you ready to go have some fun, because I think Harry might eat all the s’more supplies if we wait much longer.”

***

Leo leaned into Logan’s shoulder, smiling as he watched his boyfriend show Katie how to toast her s’more in the bonfire that crackled in front of them. He was admiring the softness of the French leaving Logan’s mouth, when Regulus plopped himself onto the large log they were sitting on, a sleeping Aveline clinging to him.

“Hey, Reggie,” Leo greeted, turning his soft smile to his friend. “You alright?”

“I’m good. I just wanted to say thank you,” Regulus nodded, shifting Aveline into a more comfortable position. Leo noticed that Regulus had added another 3 new friendship bracelets to his haul since he had last got a moment to catch up with him. “For all this. This day has been amazing. All of it. I’m not sure if summer camp would have been my thing really, but I never really got to do fun family garden parties either and this has been incredible. ”

Any reply that Leo was about to make was disturbed, by Aleandra dumping a water balloon over Marc’s head right in front of them, their loud screams causing Aveline to wake with a cry.

7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.

"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.

Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You must have some thoughts."

"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.

"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.

"It's not your fault, is it," Regulus shrugged, tucking his knees to his chest.

"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”

***

“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.

“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.

“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”

“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.

“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.

Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.

“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”

***

“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”

“That’ll do.”

“It’s not straight!”

“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.

“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.

Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.

“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”

“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.

“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”

“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”

Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he laid the mustard coloured herringbone throw he’d been salivating over in the small boutique they’d visited a few days prior.

“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.

“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”

#regulus black #leo knut #Sweater weather #Lumos in love #Rating: T #CW: Food talk