#unholy screeching ensues

[angeltism]

platonic pining feels so damn weird

#➳ the fool speaks #like ohhhh look at meeeeee wanting to be friends w somebun sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo badly that it's kinda making me look stupid #i've never rlly felt this way . like any pining i've experienced . was romantic . but this #i think it's worse because i have the mindset (of which i am trying to get rid of) that romantic love > platonic love and therefore it's #like . ohh . look at uu . being all EMBARRASSING . over what . wanting somebun to be uur friend . over wanting to be close with someone #in a way that DOESN'T include mashing uur faces together to make out passionately ??????? lmao what the fuck #AND ISN'T FRIENDSHIP EASIER TO . MAKE HAPPEN IDK . THAN ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS ?????? i don't think i'm supposed to be thinking abt it THIS #much like . isn't it sooo easy to make friends. isn't it . aha . but here i am barely able to hold a convo but ig i'm just Like That eueueu #this is so WEIRD n uu can't rlly force such a strong platonic connection like . that isn't how that works that isn't how any relationship #works but like . it's like . EUHFHUIDHUFJBHSHDH ????????????????? i am SUFFERING oh my GOD what the HELL #it's so . like a crush . but it isn't . so my hyperro brain is CONFUSED and my lonely ass is STARVING for any kind of closeness this is so #WEIRD TO BE DEALING WITHHHHHHHH #god and how long have i been feeling like this #on and off for a few months #that might be longer than most crushes i've had too ? wow . what the ufck is this what is happening i am so confused i feel so WEIRD #unholy screeching ensues

[silkentragedies]

Average at Best 

Angel! Jisung X fem! Demon Reader

1.1k words, Implied Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, inaccurate descriptions of angels and demons(?)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions or the real life Han Jisung. Not meant for minors. 

The first thing you sensed even before your eyes opened was the weight of an arm nestling you closer into a warmer-than-normal body. By instinct, you nestled closer into the body, nuzzling your nose into the crook of the person’s neck. They groaned in response, a soft, deep groan that pulled you out of your sleep almost instantly, your brain placing the voice even in the sleepiest of states. Oh, stars, of all the fucking people-

A surprised screech escaped your lips as you scrambled away from the warm body, your own protesting as the blankets fell away from your frame, exposing your bare shoulders and back to the chilly morning air. Now that you’d put some distance between yourself and the offending body, you watched in growing horror as their eyes fluttered open, bleary but quickly coming to consciousness. 

“Holy fuck.” You muttered, and Han Jisung’s eyes lit up with an almost predatory gleam despite his sleepiness, his long, tousled blonde hair only adding to his rakish appearance. “I’m sure I am.” A smirk curled up the sides of his lips as he pulled himself up to rest his back against the headboard, his skin gleaming in an unfairly lovely manner against the morning sun. You would say angelic, but the expression on his face and the purple-red marks that were scattered over the expanse of his skin implied otherwise. You followed the marks from the side of his neck to his collarbone, chest and stomach, stopping at the edge of the blanket that had fallen to his waist. No, not angelic at all. Besides, the tilted halo that was resting against his hair already gave away his ancestry. “Don’t flatter yourself, you were average at best.” You scoffed in amusement, pulling the blanket away from Jisung to shield yourself from the cold as you curled up in the corner of the bed, facing away from him- your bed, thankfully. Jisung would have to be the one to do the walk of shame past your roommates. Your...your very demon roommates oh, unholy stars- Despite yourself, your mind flashed back to the rather...inappropriate events of the night past. Jisung had always found it amusing to flirt rather dangerously with you and then disappear before the nights ran out- but yesterday, he stayed. You remembered how he had sidled up to you in the middle of Minho’s raucous party, hands surreptitiously smoothing over your curves before stopping at your waist in his usual greeting hug. How you’d goaded him into coming home with you- leading to your fingers curled into his belt loops as you pulled his body flush against yours, lips catching each other against your closed bedroom door. His halo had been upright until then, the faint loop floating over the top of his head. “I’m sure the sounds your roommates heard last night proves you wrong.” Jisung scoffed, but you stoutly refused to turn around and face him despite the shuffling and rustling that ensued behind you. That is until one firm yank of the sheets had you exclaiming at the cold that wreaked through your body- Jisung had pulled the blankets back towards himself, leaving you bare to the elements. “Aren’t you angels supposed to be caring and kind? Haven’t you heard of sharing, dipshit?” you hissed, finally twisting to glare half-heartedly at Jisung before pulling the sheets back over your body- But you only found Jisung much closer to you than you expected, his bronze eyes still shining in the sunlight. “We’re not entitled to share anything with liars. Much less demons,” he murmured, still staring intently at you. “Well, it’s not yours to share, Mr Holier-than-thou. You’re in my bed.” You gritted out, resolutely slipping into the blankets. Now, if you could properly ignore the fact that you were nose-to-nose with the angel you’d slept with the night before, his bare skin now brushing against yours at every joint and curve. The ever-present smirk on his face only widened when his other hand slid up your arm, getting a shiver to run down your spine. His ghosting touch was weirdly reminiscent of the night past, only bringing back the memories, each more vivid than before. One would think angels had the highest modicum of self control a being could possibly have. Han Jisung only served to prove that assumption wrong with the way he pushed you up against the door the previous night after nary but a few minutes of your good natured teasing. “If you’re gonna touch me, sweetheart,” he’d murmured against your skin, nipping and sucking the first of many marks onto your neck, “touch me like you mean it, yeah? Or must I show you how?” And the promise behind those words were enough for you to pull him towards your bed, tangled in a mess of teeth and limbs. Demons weren’t the model of self-control to start with- and this celestial being seemed ready to be the reason you lost yours altogether. It was like he had an innate sense of what could make you see stars, using said senses to edge you within an inch of the pleasure you craved, smooth and oh so frustrating. It hadn’t taken you long to break and beg for more, breath leaving your dry throat in gasps and moans. Your breath hitched and stuttered when Jisung’s thumb brushed over the outline of your lips, where remnants of lipstick still clung. “I feel like I should remind you,” you whisper against his finger, “ that you’re in the wrong bed.” “And here I was, thinking you enjoyed having me in your bed.” he eventually giggled, pulling you closer into his chest. A wry smile creeped up your lips, betraying your amusement- begrudging as it was. Even you weren’t immune to the angel’s subtle charms. “As I said, you were average at best.” you laughed, finally letting your body settle into Jisung’s arms, not too differently from how you were intertwined when you woke up. Your fingertips traced over Jisung’s collarbone before resting on his chest, your nose nuzzling closer into his familiar scent. “You keep saying that to yourself, darling.” he grinned mockingly, dropping a kiss against your hairline. “It’s as the law says, opposites always attract.” You smacked his chest lightly, leaning up to stare reproachfully at him. “That still isn’t a good enough excuse for me to be sleeping with a bloody angel!” You giggled, prompting Jisung to let out a quiet laugh as well. “Atleast you won’t have to walk around with physical evidence of dallying with demons.” He sighed as your giggles settled down, waving vaguely at the lopsided halo that flattened his hair. “It’s gonna take a few hours to straighten up again, so I’m stuck here.” “Can’t you get stuck somewhere that isn’t my bed, angel?” you poked his nose, making him blink and scrunch his nose for a second. You couldn’t help but watch in unconscious fascination as his hair slipped over his eyes and brushed against his cheekbones in messy strands, time flowing oddly slow- “You’re looking  at me like I’m fucking Mona Lisa, I think I’ll stay here just so you can admire my glowing beauty and sparkling personality some more.” Your eyes narrowed, before you braced your hands on his chest and pushed him over the edge of your bed and onto the floor, barely stopping the blankets from being dragged down with him. Letting out a loud crow of laughter, you watched as he dragged himself his feet, looking even more disheveled from the tumble, eyes narrowed in mock annoyance. “Like I said, you’re average at best.” 

This was My Pace Jisung brainrot which happened after @decembermoonskz sent me the coolest prompt xD. Here it is:

“What can I say? Opposites attract.” “That is really not a good excuse for sleeping with a bloody angel!”

I enjoyed the banter on this too much pfff- Do let me know what you think! xoxo, A. 

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu @popisdead @illicit-roses @lavenderbexlatte @cuokka @jl-micasea @delicatewerewolfsoul @kisskissbanggang​ (drop me an ask to be added or removed! )

#han jisung #jisung smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #jisung x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #ana.writes skz

[7demonhoes]

Levi and MC are stuck alone in the HoL without any internet

Levi’s worst nightmare has just come true: There’s no internet! How will he pass the time before it comes back on? 

Word count: 2,250

Warnings: Very vague nsfw mentions? But other than that this is just fluff.

I’m thinking of doing a dirty Part 2 so just let me know!

For the first time in months, the House of Lamentation is quiet. The only other person in the entire mansion is Levi, and he’s holed up in his room. Occasionally, you can hear his shouts at some poor, most likely very deserving 12-year-old, but for the most part you're surrounded by nothing but silence. 

All of the other demons are out on their own business, and you decide to to take advantage of this opportunity by getting some work done for RAD before the usual chaos of the house ensues. With all of the brothers jerking you around for your attention, it's hard to be productive, even with Lucifer glaring at you for not being able to turn your homework in on time. You might not be a model student, but hey! At least you're not Mammon. 

You open your laptop, preparing yourself to do some research for an essay, when an unholy, animalistic screech echoes throughout the house. You wince, glancing down at your internet browser to reveal the reason behind the scream: there's no internet. 

Well. There goes any hope for productivity. 

Your phone immediately blows up with texts, an incomprehensible string of words in all caps from Levi, who is unsurprisingly having a meltdown. You pick up the phone and start typing out a response when the door to your room slams open and a shadowy, purple figure sprints to your side.

Levi's in his demon form, his large tail quivering next to his feet. His cheeks are red, wild eyes staring at you with desperation. "We have to fix this!" He wails, "What if I lost all of my progress??? I just won against the final boss and I literally had to play that level like three hundred times just to be able to beat it and that was WITH saving up all of my healing potions and other magical items and what if I can't get any of it back ohmydiavolo we have to-" 

"Levi," you cut him off, "Did you check the Wi-Fi router?" 

He shakes his head. "I tried to call Lucifer, but he hung up as soon as I started talking." He crosses his arms, lips formed in a pout. "A normie like him couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through." 

"Uh huh. Let's go check out the router." 

You and Levi head towards Lucifer's study. You watch Levi as he desperately fiddles with the router, muttering under his breath the entire time. You think he might be praying to some anime character that happens to be a god. Or maybe he's praying to someone in the Celestial Realm? It's impossible to tell.

With a dramatic cry, Levi rushes past you to get to his room. You reluctantly follow, a bit disappointed that your spark of productivity was snuffed so easily. You hope the internet comes on-- you want to work, of course, but more importantly, dealing with a delirious, internet-starved Levi seems like a hassle you're not willing to deal with. 

"NOOOOOO!" You hear Levi scream from his room. Once you walk through his doorway, you find him curled up on the floor, arms and tail wrapped around his knees. "It can't end like this. I lost everything. How can I live??" 

You sigh, crouching beside his trembling form. "Let's try to take your mind off things, yeah?" What else are you going to do, anyway? Besides, you'd feel bad if you just left him to writhe on his floor. 

He looks up at you, and your breath catches in your throat. His purple hair is messy, his bangs curling around the sides of his face. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wet, lips trembling as he looks at you with desperation. 

Before you can wonder what other situations would cause him to make that face, you turn away. "What makes you feel better?" 

Levi sniffles. "Gaming. Anime. Doing anything I can't do right now because the internet is gone! How will I survive?" 

You roll your eyes. Who knew that coming to this exchange program would just lead to you babysitting a bunch of immortals? "What about sweets?" 

You turn to face Levi. He slowly sits up, wrapping a finger around a stray hair and curling it thoughtfully around his finger. His breathing slows, and he eventually shifts back to his normal form. "What about them?" 

"Want to bake something together?" 

His blush travels down to the tip of his nose. "T-together? You want to spend time with me?" 

You smile, "Of course. Come on, it'll be fun." You extend your hand to him. He takes it reluctantly, his long fingers trembling slightly as they entwine with your own. 

Once he's standing beside you, you lead him towards the kitchen. He tries to take his hand away from yours, but you tighten your hold. Levi squeaks, shielding his face from your view. 

You chuckle to yourself, fighting the urge to tease him even more. How much can that poor boy take before he breaks and runs away from you? It's not like it would be the first time; teasing Levi to make him blush is one of your favorite past times.

Lately, though, watching the blood rush to his pale cheeks stirs something unexpected inside you. Sometimes, you feel your hand reach towards his face on its own accord, fingertips pulsing with the need to feel his skin under your own. He hasn't noticed yet, but the pull towards him gets stronger every time. 

You just want to be friends with him, right? Being closer to your friend isn't a bad thing. Maybe if you ignore the fire burning within your chest, it'll eventually go away. 

You shudder. Your dreams tell you otherwise. 

Once you get to the kitchen, you let go of Levi's hand and start rummaging through the cabinets to get the necessary ingredients for cookies: Devildom Style. Learning how to bake using the available food in, you know, hell, had quite the learning curve. But you're a badass, so you got around it. 

Levi hoists himself on the counter, swinging his long, slender legs in the air. He's wearing anime pajama shorts, and you catch sight of his surprisingly muscular calves. 

Stop it. You busy yourself with unpackaging the butter and plopping it in a bowl with a couple cups of sugar. You hand it to Levi. "Wha-what should I do with this?" He asks, staring down at the bowl with a small frown.

You hand him a whisk. "Stir until mixed." 

Ignoring his soft grumbles, you start prepping the dry ingredients. Once you're both done, it's time to mix them together. You gesture towards Levi with your whisk to walk towards you, and his eyes glance from your whisk to his before his face lights up. 

He swings himself off the counter, bounding towards you with his hand outstretched. He dramatically raises his whisk towards you, a dazzling smile on his lips. "On guard!" 

You raise your own whisk, matching his grin with your own. "Back, you foul demon!" 

He winks at you, a trace of his forked tongue slithering from between his lips. "I'm going to devour your soul, human." 

Okay. Well. That was hot. 

He lunges at you. You block his attack with your whisk. He remains on the offensive while you fight just to evade his attacks. The two of you shuffle around the kitchen, determined to see who will stab each other first with your weapons of destruction. 

You manage to press the metal utensil against his arm once, but he uses your small victory as a distraction to press his whisk right against your chest. Your eyes lock with his. 

You blink, clutching at your chest with a choked gasp of feigned pain. "I'll see you…" you fall to your knees, panting at Levi's feet. You raise an arm defiantly towards his victorious face, "...in hell." 

With one final breath, you fall to the floor. Levi begins clapping; slowly at first, then with more and more vigor. You stand up and bow, accepting his applause with grace. 

"That was just like in an anime I'm watching!" Levi bounces excitedly, "Except it ended a little differently." 

"How'd it end?" You ask, walking over to finish the dough. 

Levi stands beside you as you both begin forming the dough into balls before placing them on a baking sheet. "Well, uh…" he focuses on his working hands. You watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. "It was about an actual fencing match, but during the match one of the characters tripped and fell on top of the other one, and uh-" He hunches his shoulders together, ducking his head further into his chest as if trying to disappear. "You know what, it's not important! Never mind!" 

You poke him in his side, causing him to squeak adorably. "What, did they kiss or something?" 

Levi's hands are moving so fast that he finishes the rest of the dough in seconds. You put the baking sheet in the oven before turning to face him. Levi thrusts his hands in his pockets and looks at his feet. "Maybe," he mutters sheepishly.

You can't resist. "Is that how you wish our fencing match ended?" 

You have never seen someone blush as hard as he is right now. "Wha-what? No!" He slinks around, and you're afraid that he's about to run away. Before you can grab him, though, he drops his hand into the package of flour before winding his arm in a large, sweeping arc. 

Towards you. And your reflexes will never match those of a demon. Before you can register what's happening, you're doused in white powder. 

Levi immediately takes out his phone. "No, you don't!" You shout, lunging towards Levi. 

He jumps away from you, reaching around the counter (curse his long, skinny limbs!) and dipping his hand into the flour once more. 

That's it. He's dead. 

You start chasing him around the kitchen, a jumble of swears and threats spewing from your mouth. Levi only giggles in response, hitting you with flour again and again. His phone lays forgotten in his hand, his eyes only on you. With one final burst of energy, you spring towards him just as he puts his hand into the flour bag. Your hand wraps tightly around his wrist. You don't realize how close you and Levi are until you look into his eyes. 

"You're covered in flour," he laughs. "I need to upload a picture of you!" 

He's so close. "Don't even think about it." 

"But it's even on your face!" He points and laughs. "Besides, what are you going to do about it if I take a picture? Like you could ever stop me." 

You raise an eyebrow. Know what? Screw it. You're in the Devildom, surrounded by literal demons. You can give into temptation. 

You slowly let go of his wrist, flattening out your palm so that your fingers rest against his. Before Levi can question what's happening, you interlock your fingers with his before looking into his eyes. 

He must see your intentions on your face because he immediately tries to draw back. "Wha-" he backs up, but the edge of the counter keeps him from moving any further. 

"Levi," you whisper, stepping closer to him so that your mouths are just inches away. "I like you. I like you more than a friend, and I can't hide these feelings anymore." 

"But-but why?" 

"I'll tell you later." You have something else on your mind. 

You gently caress your lips against his. His mouth is nervous--shaking, even-- and you can hear the pounding of his heart. You take your free hand and press it against his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering beneath his shirt. 

You kiss him again. His touch is feather-light; you have to focus to feel his skin against your own. 

Your foreheads are pressed against each other. You wait, lips barely touching, as his body vibrates beneath yours. You want to know if he truly feels the same. 

The back of your shirt lifts up. You feel a finger on the small of your back. Then two, then three, until his hand rests against your skin. His hand is hot like fire, your bare flesh pulsing under his touch. He caresses you softly with his fingers, his touch careful. 

Levi presses his lips against yours. He whimpers, and you can feel it on your tongue. You sigh happily as he breaks off from your kiss, instead choosing to dig his head into your neck as he buries himself in a hug. 

You squeeze him back, resting your chin against his shoulder. 

Levi breathes your name, his melodic voice filling the kitchen with its sound. "This is real, isn't it? I'm not dreaming?" 

"No," you chuckle, "You're not dreaming, Levi." 

"Good. Because I-" 

The sound of the beeping oven cuts him off. You slowly pull away from his embrace to retrieve the cookies from the oven. Man, you're excited to eat those cookies. You place the tray on the counter to cool before turning back to Levi. "You were saying?" 

He twiddles with his thumbs. His mouth quivers. A possessive feeling fills your heart, and you unconsciously take a step towards him. "I want to do more of… that." 

You close the distance between you and Levi, the cookies completely forgotten. Your lips meet his once again, and the only sensation beyond your passionate mouth fumbling for his is a need for more. 

#I'm actually proud of this one #It's cute #Levi is a fun character to write about #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date

[filthy-rat]

I fucking love your blog to death (especially the little ghost in the corner)! Can i request some soft mary goore? Reader is sad and alone on Halloween after being ditched by their friends and they meet mary by chance in the local cemetery, comfort and cuddling ensues. Thank you so much!

You didn't mean to end up in the graveyard. Your feet had just sort of... carried you. After your so-called "friends" had abandoned you in the middle of that costume party, alone in a sea of oddly-dressed strangers, you'd just started walking. Blinded by your tears of humiliation, you let your feet take you in a direction.

It isn't until you arrive at the wrought-iron entrance that you even realize where exactly you are.

"Sorrowwood Estates," you read aloud, looking up at the letters suspended in metal over the slightly ajar gate. "...I've never heard of this place. Who would call a graveyard an 'estate'?"

You cast a surreptitious glance over your shoulder, as of expecting someone to be lurking in the shadows. But no, you are utterly alone. With all your strength, you push open the gate a little more, wincing at its screech of protest, and slip through the gap. Once inside, you aimlessly meander through the forest of gravestones, reading each name aloud and making up stories about who could be interred there. It's a good diversion—one you desperately needed after the indignity you'd suffered at that party.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid," you mutter miserably, leaning against a nearby grave marker. "Why did I ever think they really wanted to be friends with me?"

"Well, I can't speak for whoever you're talking about, sugar," says a gravelly voice nearby, "but I'll be your friend."

With a gasp of shock, you leap away from the headstone and whirl on the spot to face the source of the voice. Materializing from the fog like an angel of death, his gaunt features illuminated by the flame of a lighter igniting a cigarette, a strange young man steps into view. Tall and thin and bloodied in the face, he looks ghastly—like some sort of unholy omen. Dark, stringy hair falls over intense, kohl-rimmed green eyes, and the many pins on his leather jacket rattle like bones. His boots are caked with what you think is mud—the low light makes it difficult to tell. Despite appearances, he makes no move to threaten you or even come closer. Instead, he cracks a charmingly lopsided grin as he inhales from the clove cigarette between his lips.

"Wh-who are you?" you ask, eyeing him with trepidation.

"Didn't you hear me? I'm your new best friend, babe," he replies, his voice muffled by his lips closed around his clove. "You can call me Mary."

"...That's a strange—"

He snorts. "Hey, I didn't fucking' pick it." He plucks the cigarette from his lips and cocks his head to the side as he regards you. Smoke curls out from his mouth. "What're you doing skulking around a cemetery at this hour, sweet thing? Someone might get the wrong impression of you."

You're not sure why exactly, but there's something about his face that puts you at ease. You could tell him your life story. With a sigh, you lean back against the headstone, eyes cast downward at your boots. Tears spring up unbidden, blurring your vision. You sniff.

"...Uh, I just got... fucking humiliated at this party. Some friends of mine thought it would be funny to ditch me—"

"Cunts," snarls Mary, cutting across you.

Tears forgotten, your head jerks up in shock—he's suddenly standing much closer, his leather-clad arm lightly brushing against yours as he mirrors your half-sitting lean on the headstone. His thick, dark brows are furrowed and there's a rage in the inky depths of his eyes that has goosebumps prickling the back of your neck. You stare up at him in both wonder and slight fear, and wet your lips.

His eyes flick down to follow your tongue's movement.

"Y-Yeah... I come out of the bathroom and they're all gone," you say, sheepish in your admittance. “Left me there with all those strangers.”

"So you got shit taste in 'friends.'" He takes a long drag from the cigarette. "Doesn't explain why you're here," he says in a quiet, gentle voice.

"I didn't mean to. I just started walking." You shrug one shoulder and look away from him. "I wanted to be away from everyone."

"And here I am, ruining that solitude." Mary gives a short, sharp laugh. It is utterly devoid of humor. "Lucky you."

You're unsure what to say. On the one hand, being alone is what you wanted, and he certainly is intruding in that respect. On the other hand, it felt... good to talk to someone. Even a complete stranger. Mary didn't feel like a stranger, though, and that is perhaps the strangest thing about him. It's as if you're old friends, reconnecting after years. A sort of comfortable silence falls across the pair of you. For just a moment, you sit there with him as he finishes his cigarette, your eyes trained on the overcast skies. Occasionally, the clouds part and you catch a glimpse of twinkling stars.

Perhaps this was fate.

"You wanna get outta here?" Mary says, after flicking away the spent butt of his cig. Casually, he slings a lanky arm around your shoulders, and you find you don't mind.

You look at him, curious. "And go where?"

He shrugs one shoulder, his gaze holding yours. "Nowhere. Anywhere. It's Halloween night and the world is our fuckin' Reese's Cup, baby." That lopsided grin curves his lip, infectious and charming and brimming with promise.

A little laugh escapes you, and you find yourself mirroring his grin. "Yeah, okay. I love Reese's."

"Ditto," he says, guiding you off the headstone and out of the cemetery. "Yanno, I ain't just an expert at eating candy," he adds, as his eyebrows bounce suggestively.

"Oh?" You smirk and slip a hand into his back pocket. "Lucky me."

#chittychatty #my scribblins #mary goore #mary mary quite contrary

[retvenkos]

“at least you’re here to flip the quesadillas”

WORKING A FAST FOOD JOB WITH OUR PUNK BOY™ MICHAEL HARRISON HAS TO INCLUDE...

michael wanted to work anywhere else

but, he needed a job to help his older sister pay the bills and taco bell was the only place that would pay him $10 an hour and would hire him within the week

you can fight me on this, but i 100% believe that michael was adopted by his older sister (who’s 10 years older than him) because his parents were abusive and neglectful

and you already worked there

when michael walked in wednesday after school, the purple taco bell t-shirt replacing his usual skull tee, you about died of laughter

you knew michael as the school’s resident bad boy who you had english with and who never participated in group projects

and now you knew him as “harrison,” your new co-worker that your boss kept forgetting the first name of

and then you started to have misgivings, because the last time you had to work with michael harrison was on an analysis of the themes in beowulf, and he had been missing most of the days you worked on it and barely presented his slides when the time came

but you were pleasantly surprised

michael, when he wanted to be, was a hard worker

and he was kind to the old ladies at the cash register

and patient with the mothers in the drive through that had screaming babies in the back of their car

and maybe he wasn’t the boy you thought you knew

and you were certain he didn’t remember you

and for two weeks, the two of you didn’t really ackowledge each other, even though you worked the same night shift on the weekends and your schedules matched on tuesdays and thursdays

but you shouldn’t have had such little faith in him

“hey, (y/n), can you get the register?”

okay, maybe he read your name tag?

and then, later, when you were going over vocabulary for your english quiz underneath your breath:

“the quiz was postponed till next week, by the way. i saw you weren’t in class today.”

“...thanks, michael.”

and that is the start of a beautiful friendship

when the nightshifts were painstakingly long, the two of you would make items for your “secret menu”

“what did you put in it this time?”

“time to figure it out.”

“did you put CHEETOS in this BEAN BURRITO?!?!?!”

“they made a doritos taco! same concept!”

“no, this is an unholy demon!”

or you have debates about whether or not movies are good, and no matter what, michael has to play the devil’s advocate

“la la land failed as a musical, drama, and romace!”

“the relationship of emma stone and ryan gosling was a romance of the ages.”

“then why weren’t they endgame?”

“because sometimes in life, endgame doesn’t happen because external influences put strains on your marriage.”

“they were never married.”

“do you think i’ve actually seen this movie?”

one of your favorite things to do with michael, though, is talk about school

because even though he hates the mandates that the state puts on the school, he still loves berry high

and michael is also the best, because he is not afraid to stand up for you

if a customer is being rude? you feel sorry for them

“i’m sorry, (y/n), is this man being rude to you? because i can call our superiors and pull them out of their meeting to come down here if it’s such a big deal”

and the two of you take turns deciding what playlist you should listen to while working, and michael actually has a really good angsty playlist?

and what’s really cute is how he lip-syncs to any song he knows the words to

“you know all of me by john legend?”

“obviously. i mean, the man is a legend.”

“oh my  g o d.”

night shifts are now fun, and michael agrees

he thinks it is absolutely adorable when you put your headphones in to mop and you dance to music only you can hear

and you buy michael a taco bell snapback and he wears it to humor you

you have a cherished photo of the moment

and in return he buys you a taco bell fanny pack and you scream

he also has a cherished photo of you

“if anyone ever proposes to me, they better give me a taco bell ring or i’m saying no.”

“do they actually have those?”

“god, i hope not.”

both of you  r i o t  when you find the weddings section on the taco bell merch website

“they even have ‘i do’ written on a few of these mild sauce packets!”

you pterodactyl screech

and, inevitably, when aiden, caleb, emma, and maria find out that michael works there, they become frequents of your humble establishment

caleb has a whole instagram highlight called ‘sightings of michael’ and they are all really shaky video’s of him working in his taco bell t-shirt

and you welcome them because now you have four more friends?

and how did you all become friends? everyone is so different.

and no one really knows

you start a web of conspiracy’s to satisfy your curiosity

and even in the summer, when everywhere is hiring, michael doesn’t quit because he would never “leave you alone in this hellscape”

sure.

“are you sure it’s not because you actually enjoy my presence?”

“that might have something to do with it.”

that doesn’t mean that the two of you don’t make jokes about working elsewhere, tho

“let’s work at sonic. i would work in the kitchen and you can wear those rollerskates and give people their tater tots.”

“i’d rather die. let’s work at del taco instead.”

“our rivals? what about loyalty?”

“treason was always my forte.”

“...make it taco time and i’ll consider it.”

“you really just want to work with tater tots, don’t you?”

“can you blame me?”

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

#choices #choices stories you play #high school story #high school story choices #michael harrison #choices michael #x reader #reader insert #imagine #headcanons #would include #platonic!reader #platonic #fluff #michaelharrisonheadcanons

[utt-a]

@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats​ said: [pin arms] - Your muse pins mine’s arms to restrain them for whatever reason. Tension ensues. 

Dusty meme: 

mentions of: @thenewcastleincident​

The front door doesn't do its usual warm creaked swing open. A focused blast of air blows it off its hinges to the sound of another unholy screech erupting from beneath the track field. The beauty that steps through the frame with white clouds of hair blowing in all directions and a tentacle hanging off the heel of a boot locking eyes with the Cajun. The smallest wave of relief crossing her features as she tells him, "Illyana has teleported away with the children. The girls and David are safe."

Now for her stubborn warlock. Ororo moves towards her friend, preparing to instruct and thank him for his help.

"We need to get John out of bed as carefully as possible. Kurt will-"  

Another, closer screech, and she can't read John's presence here, both air displacement and her energy-vision turning up nothing. Two weeks from the day a teenager ripped tar and cancer from his lungs, and he'd left to reseal the Leviathan by himself. Like she'd begged him not to, the action she'd left Remy here to prevent.

"No!" The sky roars with the scream clawing against her throat when swift hands catch her wrists before a full turn, the wind shaking all around them to match the tremor in her arms as electricity hisses to life over her shoulders. "I don't care about whatever silly little club pack you two have going. Let go before I make you."  

#lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats #(yesterday's chat put her in a john verse mood #vt: sub verse: red ribbons (616) #very sorry if she sends anna back fried cajun

[doroyamz]

Love in Accra

The road looked like it was sweating.

Rain. Heavy rain. The rush hour traffic on the 37 Military Hospital Road had come to a standstill. The downpour, from nowhere, was a welcome distraction for Tony. Last night’s encounter with his wife, Alicia, still all too fresh in his mind.

Cars were barely moving along on in the ever-rising storm.

He felt a movement on his right thigh but was too preoccupied with his thoughts to give it any attention. Esi by this time was growing restless, tired of Tony’s now constant rebuffing of her advances. Last night, and for many nights in the past month, he was totally limp when she unzipped him, a far cry from the throbbing pistol that had thrilled her to no end when they first began their countless rendezvous.

In those early days, they were lust personified. Crazed and addicted to each other beyond reason. Their constant need to feel each other’s skin had a near cataclysmic pull on them and their respective worlds. Alicia got pregnant in those early days, an event Tony privately regarded as a spillover from being with his now long-standing mistress. Esi’s marriage was virtually in the gutter. She often showed up at home disheveled and night after night, retired to her marriage bed wearing a satisfying post-coital daze on her face. Her husband, would just watch her. Mute and completely emasculated.

But now her once insatiable incubus was limp to her touch. She could not understand it.

xxx

Alicia had found the video on his phone.

Tony’s entire world came to a screeching halt. His throat was so dry, he wasn’t sure if he had one anymore. He stood paralyzed; the phone screen thrust in his face. Cocked his head at an angle as if in disbelief at the two actors in the tiny screen.

The man in the screen was bald, tall and dark and looked very much like him. He stood at about 6”3 with an NBA player’s build and had the beard to match. The male actor was indubitably approaching climax and his voluptuous female understudy, on cue, fiercely gripped onto dear life – which in that moment, was her male lead.

The ochre-skinned woman in the screen was of the finest fettle. Folasade was a full-blooded Nigerian but her unapologetic curves screamed South Africa. She looked like a Marvel comic heroine brought to life.

Fola and Tony met at a seminar for West African business executives at the Kempinski Hotel, a few months after his wedding. Fola was leading a breakout panel session which Tony sat in on, intoxicated by her form and presence. The two had exchanged steamy glances all day long, making no attempt to restrain their mutual intentions for each other when the conference ended.

Tony could never get enough of Fola and in Tony, Fola had found a man who could satisfy her every whim. They could go for months on end without so much as a text message to each other. But whenever contact was made, their respective schedules were cleared until further notice. They were fully aware that their combined desire was a vast black hole with the potential to consume them, so they took conscious steps to maintain some modicum of balance in their meeting arrangements.

The night the fated video was shot, Fola was headed for a month-long business trip in Morocco. They had arranged to meet at her private office on Volta Street in the Airport Residential Area.

Fola’s suggestion to record themselves as a temporary parting memento was inexplicable to Tony. Her claim that it would be something that would hold her while she was away, seemed puzzling to him. Her feigned desperation, even more perplexing.

Tony was completely against the idea of recording their liaison. Remonstrating over and over again about how technology and affairs of love should never cross. Fola ogled him for a while, offered tiny chuckles as he groped her every now and then during his rant.

Tony became so engrossed in his personal deliberations that he missed her slip into the bathroom. When he finally took a moment to break from his monologue, he was out of breath and had worked up a sweat. The man felt he just needed to wash away all traces of that unholy proposal.

Once on the other side of the bathroom door, Tony became Pavlov’s Dog.

That was over a year ago and Fola still hadn’t returned from her trip.

His mind slowly drifted back to the screen. The soft moans and cries. The sound of skin on skin rhythmically playing from the Samsung phone speakers.

He didn’t feel shame. He didn’t feel regret. He heard Alicia’s cries, felt her pain slide across his skin. He just stood there. Numb.

xxx

“We have asked around about Tony…Alicia…for your sake, for your parents’ sake, for all our sakes…please…do not marry this man.”

One of the many admonitions Alicia fielded from her aunts and cousins after announcing Tony’s marriage proposal at her younger sister’s festive birthday party.

In the ensuing weeks after her announcement, the family matriarchs conducted an extensive background check to gather as much intel as they could on her suitor. From what Alicia’s mum told her the matriarchs searched far and wide, even unearthing some very unsavory stories about Tony’s maternal grandfather in Mampong, a township in the Ashanti region.

The women came back with a most damning report on Alicia’s debonair Asante. Alicia, however, was defiant and unmoved by their findings.

She stood up to address the mini-assembly.

“Each woman here knows how highly I value them. You have all shaped me, guided me and helped me become the woman I am today,” she said in a restrained voice.

“But with all respect, none of you know Tony like I do. You don’t know what I see in him, his potential. The depths of emotion I have felt in the time I’ve gotten to know him. None of you can know that. He’s not perfect, Lord I know he’s far from it, but I know he’s the one for me. Nothing you say or do can make me feel differently.”

She loved Tony deeply. She had never believed she was capable of loving a man, let alone marrying one, after all the damage she had seen men wreak in and around her life. And Tony had flaws, many serious ones, but he had a certain light to him and he had showed her honesty and a vulnerability she had never known men to possess.

Deep down, she believed she could change him, iron out his weaknesses and over time drive out his especially troubling womanizing habit. She knew he liked women and on countless occasions, with her own eyes, she noticed the magnetizing effect he had on them. Alicia also believed some of his troubles with women lay in the fact that he was a true empath. That he, unfortunately, had never learned to draw boundaries to his empathy which inadvertently led to his many ‘situationships.’ 

“I won’t lie Alicia. I know I have a woman problem. It’s like an addiction. The intimacy, the need to connect, the sex.” They were having lunch at the Hinlone Chinese Restaurant in Labone. The night before, as they lay in bed, Tony had told he loved her for the first time. Alicia simply smiled at his declaration, electing to play it cool although inwardly, she was beside herself with joy.

Flashes from the video.

The woman’s legs splayed. Tony’s thrusts. The glistening sheen of sweat.

“But I swear to you, most of my things with these women often start out because I pity them or I want to help them in some way…along the line, things just get muddled up and…I lose my way...”

The woman crying out in throes of pleasure.

Her mind was a broken dam. Thoughts, memories and conversations flooded her head and receded at their own leisure.

She wondered why these memories and conversations were coming up at this time. The video was still a freshly opened gash, one she had already accepted was going to be a large and permanent scar. But for the other flashbacks, she questioned their relevance to her current predicament.

He was always a monster. Why was I pretending all this time that he wasn’t? Who was I kidding?

The video was the bomb but Tony’s desensitized demeanor and harrowing forced confessions were the firestorm. She knew there was so much more he would have confessed to if she had had any more emotional stamina during her five-hour interrogation of the stranger she called her husband. She had been beyond foolish.

Time had lost its meaning. She had spent three days huddled in the corner of their bedroom tormented by her broken heart and mind.

Alicia just wanted to disappear.

xxx

One week and seventy-seven unanswered calls had passed since the explosive encounter. Tony wasn’t sure if Alicia was alive.

He was parked outside the Total House Clinic in Adabraka on a Saturday morning. Completely engrossed in his thoughts and yearning for divine intervention to offer him some guidance. Since his exposé, his mind had been in a fog that thickened with each passing day. The only silver lining were the test results from his urologist. Tony’s recent erectile issues were deemed a stress response and his dysfunction persisted due to a lack of proper rest. He needed to relax.

His wife was even more inaccessible now than she’d been during the miscarriage. For Tony, the miscarriage was a living hell made more intolerable by how suicidal Alicia had been. He was disappointed to have lost the baby especially after how hard they’d tried over the years but a small and, perhaps, darker part of him felt relieved. He didn’t think it was right to have conceived a child with his wife barely an hour after stealing sordid moments with another woman. A woman he met through his wife. In his mind, it was perhaps the universe’s way of warning him that he had gone too far this time. He would never have been able to look at that child without seeing Esi in his mind’s eye.

This time though, he had overstepped the good faith that the universe seemed to constantly extend to him. He knew his credit line with the powers-that-be was now in the red and would stay there indefinitely. His latest debt, while not his most damning by a long shot, was irredeemable. He had nowhere to hide. There were no more lies he could spin around Alicia.

But he needed her. He couldn’t lose his North Star. She was the only thing that prevented his chaotic nature from engulfing him or so he thought. Surely, after all these years she knew what she was signing on for. Why was she so surprised? That video was nothing compared to the numerous other unspeakables he’d committed over the course of their marriage. Of all the things to do him in, it had to be a twenty-minute porno. What a sick joke.

In a bloodrush, he let out a hollow scream. His mind was drowning in haphazard thoughts.

“What have I done? God what have I done?” he blurted out repeatedly at his steering wheel, as he fought to hold back tears.

“Why? Why now? Why did it happen like this?” he plaintively questioned.

No answer.

Deflated and resigned, he took out his work phone and called the only person who would always welcome him with open arms and accept him for the depraved and gluttonous animal he was.

xxx

Incense burned as Jill Scott’s ‘He Loves Me’ played softly from the soundbar. The room had been steamed to perfection.

The Executive Suite at the La Beach Hotel was their favourite love nest. Any sexual fantasy - from orgies to swing parties - either party happened to be in the mood for or could imagine, this was the room that staged its enactment.

Tonight it was just the two of them.

The toned, dark-skinned Ga woman on the bed was in her early seventies but inexplicably did not look a day past twenty. Tightly twisted Senegalese crochet braids, flowed magnificently from her scalp to her dainty waist. Her oval-shaped face remained flawless as did her soft, wrinkle-free skin. How she managed to defy time with her looks and poise was a much pondered upon mystery to all who knew her.

Dede was naked underneath a black, sparkling see-through gown. Her shea-butter glistened body glowed through the gown. A wet, willing and wanting goddess. Ready to be ravaged by her young midnight warrior. She rose to sit on her knees, directing her eyes to her nude captor’s crotch. She rendered a wry smile.

The warrior was flat-out flaccid.

“Mm,” she remarked, as she beckoned him to draw closer.

“Looks like our little man needs a little something before he comes out to play eh?” she teased in playful Ga.

He smirked as he approached her, only stopping when his groin and her face were level.

The mind-fog was still present but he closed his eyes as he begun to feel the slow and perfectly measured licking sensations in his nether region. Dede was always masterful with the things she could do with her mouth. Two lifetimes worth of experience to draw from.

Two minutes passed but Tony’s situation did not improve.

She paused to look up at Tony, “Is something the matter? You usually perk up for me with no effort. Have I done something wrong?”

“No…it’s not you love…,” he paused, longer than he’d intended.

“Just been under a lot of stress lately,” he sighed as he pulled away. He turned his back on the regal woman to look around the room for his clothes.

Dede wasn’t buying it. His tone. That pause. Something was definitely up. She had never known her beast to act or sound so tame in all the years she’d known him, not even during his grooming period.

“But you’re even more marvelous when you’re stressed…or have you forgotten Abidjan?” she asked, biting her lip.

He shrugged at her retort.

Tony was troubled by his recurring limpness.

xxx

Esi’s heart froze when she saw the Caller ID on her phone screen.

Alicia.

Why would Alicia be calling her? For what reason? Was it about Tony? Had she found out about them?

The phone was still ringing but Esi just stared at her mobile. A million worst-case scenarios flying around in her mind each time her ringtone looped over.

She decided she would not answer the call.

It’d been over eight months since they last spoke and the distance that had grown between them suited Esi, considering the increased frequency of her liaisons with Tony in those months. After years of clandestine maneuvers, she felt she was finally closing in on Alicia’s husband.

Both women had known each other from childhood. Esi even witnessed Alicia’s declaration of Tony’s marriage proposal.

The announcement was a mild shock for her at first but she remembered feeling something resembling happiness for her longtime friend. Alicia had found a man who could actually hold her attention. He had to be special. She’d seen Alicia turn down the most desirable of bachelors - a few of whom Esi herself subsequently sampled extensively - on countless occasions.

In her quiet moments, she sometimes wondered why her then soon-to-be-engaged friend seemed to routinely attract men of a higher caliber without even trying, while she often had to go above and beyond to pull a semi-decent man. She felt she was equally as - if not more - attractive than Alicia and just as accomplished professionally but somehow, she always seemed to come out second-best to her childhood friend when it mattered. These thoughts irked Esi more than she cared to admit to herself.

Alicia mirthfully introduced her old friend and soon-to-be-husband to each other a few days after her announcement.

Their eyes locked for a brief but intense moment during the exchange of pleasantries.

xxx

Nyarko Abronoma could not look at the man she called her son.

She was disgusted.

Why were the men in her family such cancers?

To the uninitiated, her family’s men were walking gods. Dazzling men who could bend the wills and desires of the staunchest hearts. They were gifted manipulators and they used their power to wreak havoc. Their preferred targets, were often women of high standing and character. They swarmed on these women like bees to honey. Once ensnared, their targets were mentally and emotionally stretched and bent beyond their limits, enduring relentless acts of gross disrespect and shame on account of these bedeviled men. And in no time, the prey merely became a shell of their former selves.

Nyarko, at the age of nine, saw her mother gradually lose her mind. A year later, a young Nyarko watched on as her mother was lowered into an unmarked grave. Both events, her father’s handiwork.

Her mother used to say that the men of Nyarko’s lineage were descendants of the fallen angels from the Book of Genesis. The Nephilim.

Even in her womb, she already knew Tony was one of them. Throughout her pregnancy, Nyarko prayed, fasted, sought the counsel of several spiritual leaders to save her unborn child. She desperately wanted her son to chart a different path than the men before him.

Tony didn’t know how to break the silence between them.

His mother had always been his trump card whenever things between him and Alicia were coming to a head. This time around though he was seeking his mother’s intervention as a Hail Mary. He knew she admired and loved Alicia. She would probably have traded her for him as her child if she had her way.

He told her what had happened, leaving out a few details.

Nyarko knew her son hadn’t told her everything.

She raised her head to observe her son. A beautiful boy with a Machiavellian heart. He was a poisoned chalice like his predecessors.

Tony looked away, uncomfortable with her soul-piercing stare.

“I can’t help you and I won’t,” she said in Twi.

He was stunned.

“I won’t let you drive that poor woman to the grave. If I help you, you are only going to repeat what your grandfather put my mother through and what my brothers did to their wives. Alicia is too much of a good woman for that. Too much. She deserves better. This time you have been exposed for all to see and we both know there are countless more lies and secrets behind those scheming eyes of yours!”

Tony’s throat tightened. He hadn’t anticipated this tirade from the old woman.

“You think I don’t know about you? The things you scurry around town doing like a possessed rat? I weep for Alicia everyday. I always pray to God to give her strength in dealing with you. You have no shame. Even during your wife’s miscarriage you had no decency, no respect for her, not an ounce of self-control. Hiding in and out of Accra with your concubines.”

Nyarko spat at her son’s feet.

“If anything should happen to Alicia, it will be on your head and I pray you pay for it.”

xxx

Three weeks and still no word from Tony.

Alicia’s call coupled with Tony’s prolonged radio silence led Esi to assume the worst.

She was driving back into Accra, via the Accra-Tema Motorway, after wrapping up a meeting in Tema's harbour area. Hawkers streamed along either side of her car, as she neared one of the highway's three toll booths.

Esi's mind was spinning. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Had she been stupid? Why couldn’t she be allowed to have her own slice of heaven? Was it a crime to want to be loved? She didn’t mean Alicia any harm but the connection between her and Tony was unavoidable.

Why was Tony all of a sudden ignoring her? Why weren’t they making love anymore? She knew  he had a harem of ‘playmates’ he could call on but he always came back to her. Was he over her? Had somebody else taken her place?

Too many questions with no answers. She wracked her brain to think of a solution, a way out through all the madness.

Dede. The Madame. The old woman would probably know something. She and Tony were close, a little too close for Esi’s liking. But Esi figured that a woman at that age didn’t have that long to live, no matter how well she kept herself or how many boys she gobbled up, so Esi was fine with their relationship. Besides she was on good terms with Dede, the three had had some raunchy episodes through the years.

Esi called Dede and inquired about Tony.

“I last saw him about a week ago but I haven’t heard from him since then,” Dede stated.

More worry for Esi. He had gone to see Dede but had not even bothered to call her for three weeks? What was going on with him? Was he over her? She knew Dede had some skills but the old witch had enough boy toys to keep her satisfied.

Dede hummed an Erykah Badu tune. Esi forgot she was still on the line.

“Thank you Dede. I’ll give him a buzz again.”

“Dear girl, hold on for a second please.”

Esi was caught off guard by The Madame’s request. Outside of their fervid love-ins, Dede was typically brisk and forthright with her.

“Have you noticed anything…strange about Tony lately?” Dede asked, an almost mischievous lilt in her slivery voice.

“Strange? What do you mean?” a puzzled Esi asked.

“His performance, has it changed in any noticeable way?” The Madame was sipping on something in the background.

“Oh Dede…,” Esi responded bashfully.

“My girl let’s not beat around the bush. Is anything different or not?”

The sudden firmness in The Madame’s voice unsettled Esi.

“W-Well…recently he doesn’t respond to my touch. You know…,” she didn’t know why she was so shy in speaking to Dede about her sexual affairs with Tony. She had seen the woman on all fours.

Static on the phone.

“He can’t get it up,” Esi muttered feebly.

“Mm..I see. Thank you Esi, that’s all I needed to know. Best of luck reaching him.”

The line cut.

Why would Dede ask that? Was she experiencing the same issues she’d been having with Tony?

The suspicion that had been floating in Esi’s mind for the past few weeks was too absurd to now consider an actual possibility. It was impossible for that to happen to Tony, he was too red-blooded, way too potent for that.

It couldn’t be.

No...no..not Tony...

Tony couldn’t be…?

No!

It isn’t possible. Tony couldn’t be impotent. The mere thought alone was utterly absurd.

But how else could she explain his sudden limpness? Plus Dede would never have asked that question if she hadn’t noti---

Esi fatally rear-ended her Nissan Qashqai into a heavy cargo truck.

xxx

Their luxury three-bedroom apartment home on Second Circular Road, Cantonments, was a stone throw away from the U.S. Embassy. It was a $600,000 property that Tony had astoundingly managed to wind down to a sale price just short of a $100,000. Alicia used to call him ‘Puppet Master T,’ for his uncanny ability to always get what he wanted.

Tony lingered outside the apartment door for nearly half an hour. He was jittery.

A flurry of deep and quick deep breaths filled his lungs as he steeled himself and turned the doorknob.

The apartment felt hostile as if it despised his presence.

His sweep around his marriage home confirmed Alicia had packed up, that much was clear. Their bedroom was half empty, with no trace of his wife left in the room. Alicia was gone and she was gone for good.

A small stack of papers was neatly arranged on the bed. Divorce papers and a small sheet with a number to call when he was done signing. That was Alicia, methodical and precise, even in the worst of circumstances.

Tony sat on the bed, staring at the divorce papers.

He wanted to call Alicia but thought better of it. She’d probably blocked him on all platforms. When his wife didn’t want to be found, she did it well.

The die was cast. There were no more moves he could play.

Something vibrated under his left thigh, briefly snapping him out of his self-pity. He shifted his weight to find the smoking gun that had ended everything.

Tony unlocked the phone to find a freeze-frame shot of a busty Fola in a most compromising position. Alicia must have watched the video countless times, trying to make sense of it all. Her soon-to-be ex-husband zoomed out of the video application to the notification center.

Ato, his closest friend and fellow degenerate, had just sent him series of confusing text messages.

The first message read: “Bro...I have been trying to reach you.” Tony checked his call log to indeed find several missed calls from his main man.

Second message: “I don’t know if you’ve heard already.”

Third: “Bro…I’m so so sorry about Esi...I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I’m so sorry bro. Please call me if you need me. I’m here for you…”

xxx

Marijuana smoke filled the air of the love nest.

Tony’s head lay buried in Dede’s bosom. He was silent, as Dede gently stroked his head and offered hushed words of consolation.

She drew a few more puffs from her joint and moved it down to Tony’s lips but her wounded warrior declined.

They stayed silent for a lengthy period of time as Dede spaced out from the weed.

Memories of a lifetime’s worth of sexual dissipation with her favorite boy streamed across her mind. Despite her wanton admiration for his sexual prowess, she had grown to develop an affection for her former protégé over the years.

The Madame, as Dede was referred to by Accra’s high society, had known Tony since he was fourteen. Even as a sprightly teenage boy - and much to her pleasant surprise - he oozed raw potential with his savage-like lovemaking abilities. By seventeen, the boy could do things she had never known men to be capable of. He had a frightening and near bottomless appetite that bordered on the frenetic, that even her infamous grooming techniques couldn’t temper.

She shed an unseen tear for her paramour’s wasted manhood. To be completely robbed of his virility in his prime was a cruel blow from the gods.

Dede nonchalantly crushed the end of the burnt-out joint into an ashtray on the bedside table.

“It’s a pity but it seems I have no use for you anymore, my dear,” she said sofly.

Tony was still, his eyes shut. It was what he expected from his Madame.

“There’s a young French couple coming by shortly. Quite the adventurous duo. It’s a shame you wouldn’t be joining us,” she sighed airily.

“A shame,” he whispered.

She started running rings around his lips.

“You’re of course welcome to stay and watch if you please my love,” she said somewhat coyly.

Tony slowly reached for her moving hand and kissed it.

He rose from his resting place, stretched to his full height, and promptly made his way to the door without looking back.

“Tony..,” he heard Dede call out before he shut the door.

Two spirited European-looking girls gaily passed him in the lobby hallway.

As he stepped onto the elevator, the vivacious couple turned around to take in the view of the brooding stud exiting the floor.

xxx

Tony hopped over the fence that separated the La Beach Hotel premises from the beach.

It was a little past midnight and the cool and salty breeze of the sea, soothed Tony’s mood. The mind-fog was clearing up. Whether the fog’s retreat was a result of the second-hand smoke from the weed or the effect of the beach, he wasn’t sure but he was grateful.

It was a moonless, starless sky. The ocean’s waves roared gently, calling to him. He had been here before, in another life perhaps.

He took in the scene before him one last time and smiled. All was fair.

Tony took the first steps towards his death.

xxx

#love accra ghana short story

[the-wanted-man]

𝕃𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕

FFXIV Write 2020 | ambience Muster verb       1 : to call forth : rouse       2. to assemble or gather, especially for inspection or in preparation for battle.

Tracking yokai was a task easier said than done. It wasn’t like an animal or a human, not really. It wasn’t a thing of tangible flesh, and blood or body. They didn’t exactly leave foot prints, and the desperado wasn’t capable of sensing aether. He didn’t attract them, as Miya did. It hadn’t occurred to him just how much of an exercise in patience chasing ghost stories down would be. It had largely been a waste of his time, and he had bitterly concluded that he might return home with nothing to show his friend and mentor.

Yet, upon staring down the forgotten assembly of rotten wooden planks, cracked windows and overgrown vines and weeds that made up the decrepit structure of an old manse, the cowboy decided then that his search had likely come to an end. The rumors really had been unnecessary - he would have checked this place out of pure desperation alone. Something about the place made the hair on his arms stand on end and his heart pump wildly until that familiar chill ran through him.

He looked to his compatriot, an eastern priest from the main city. Onmyōji, they were called, his dry lips almost forming the word in memory of the brief lesson in linguistics that gifted him the knowledge. The two assessed each other where they’d gathered in a manner more formal than necessary. The Outlaw, in his long coat and leather hat, and the priest, with his book and dark robes. One armed to the teeth, the other not armed at all.

Miya said that these priests could bless things, or get rid of them. This man didn’t seem happy to do either, really and had been largely silent. The priest pointed to the house in a way that seemed to condemn it. 

“Tenjōname,”  the priest stated conclusively. The Outlaw, being a foreigner, wasn’t really sure what that meant, nor did he bother trying to pronounce it.

Damp, yielding mud shifted into hardwood that groaned as the cowboy proceeded apace into the abandoned home. The creaking protest of the door cracking open against turns of cobwebs felt wrong, and the foreign jingle of his spurs blasphemy to the silence.

The air was heavy and pregnant with a humidity that crushed the lungs. It felt especially stifling here, not just in the weighted breaths, but in the way the shadows closed in from all around.Darkness was rampant in this house, and he felt it would have been so even if the paper lanterns and candles set about had been lit.

Habit kept his hand steady on the pistol grip, or alternatively the hilt of his blade as he walked deeper into the derelict building, largely made up of narrow hallways and tall, expansive ceilings.It had probably been beautiful once, he thought, looking up towards a chandelier shrouded in deep, black that extended into the corners of the building. It could have been the wind, but within those pockets of shadow, he swore he could hear what was best described like confetti paper, faintly scuttling along the unseen walls.

THUD!CRASH!

Something shattered into a million pieces behind, breaking with it what had largely been silence and in one swift motion the cowboy whirled on his boot heel with his six-onze revolver drawn, cocked and pointed. The damn priest goes pale, paler than a ghost but manages some level of dignity even staring down the flare-sized mouth of the barrel. He’d stumbled against some dusty furnishings and the foreigner holstered his weapon with a scowl. Extended an arm out to help the man up. This would probably be the most excitement of the night.

It was in doing this that he not only felt, but watched the hair on the back of his hand stand rigid, just before something slimy, muscular, and long wrapped around his throat. He’s yanked with enough force to drop him on his back and send his hat flying.The oxygen left his breast, constricted from his esophagus as he was dragged forcefully across a mildewed carpet that bunched and tore from the grasping of his fingernails.. Reeled like a fish, but he didn’t expect to be released upon capture.

He lashed out with one hand, desperately seeking purchase upon anything that could halt his movements, while the other tugged furiously at the  writhing thing that strangulated him. A desk frame dragged and scraped when clutching the wobbly leg, but it managed to slow him down for long enough. His body lurched like a worm and he hooked the steel-toed point of his boot against the inside of a neighboring door frame where a tug-of-war ensued for his very life.

It wasn’t long before his vision began to fade black at the edges, and he mused that he’d never been quite so good in strength tournaments. It always came down to speed with him, and he hadn’t been quick enough here. Maybe this was it. His eyes began to roll back, the silver in them fading to a dull iron grey, and in those moments he saw a glimpse of the horrid creature.

The eyes were most prominent, sunken and wild in a face more beast than man -- though admittedly what beast that could be went unidentified by the would-be-yokai-hunter. Bluish-greying skin was marked with sickly yellow, growths and pustules clustered in the various folds of its loose epidermis, which hung like clumps of wet toilet paper from its haggard body.

The growths seemed to swell and deflate like lungs, creating the papery sounds he’d heard before as they scraped against one another in a leathery symphony. It floated too, suspended in the air by nothing, with its long, bumpy tongue extended out until it reached a point that he could no longer see, but most certainly felt draining the life from him.

He’d started to fade by then, wondering just how bad this death was going to be when in that blackened sight, his thoughts were interrupted by a wet screech bellied by what could only be described as pain. He felt the constraining tongue go lax as it was severed in half and his vision rapidly returned to see the  Onmyoji shaking him back to consciousness. He helped the dazed rebel to his feet, and shoved his hat into his chest. It seemed an odd but thoughtful thing for him to do, given the circumstances. .

“Tenjōname,”  the priest repeats, and this time, the cowboy understands.

The pair sprinted in the opposite direction, cutting a corner down the hall into another room that they slam the door shut too. Something heavy slams against it, flexing the old wood inwards and then the scuttling sound seems to scrape up the wall outside. Only a thin tendril of moonlight manages to pierce through the murky fog of the clouded windows, and that’s the point of refuge that the priest gravitates too, dragging the outlaw with him.

They stood against one another, back to back and the cowboy exhaled. His hammering heart slowed to its familiar, aching pulse and then he’ was calm as a light Darksday drizzle. Warmer than a trapped fire. The devout had his head bowed, mumbling rapidly and the Outlaw, looking down and noticed the shadows struggling to overtake the quadrant squares of moonlight they stood upon. Attempting to spill over the sharp edges like an oil. He realized the priest was praying - protecting them from the inky black.

The thing  was not happy, and it let out another unholy wail of despair. The crinkling sound of paper grew louder and then a chair came peeling from the shadows for the odd pair. That quick draw was paramount, and singing metal sliced through air to catch the antique and send it crashing off course, splintering into several pieces.

He could hardly see through the clouds of dust, which now kicked up hung about like a thick veil that obscured the vision. He had to listen intently to the unsettling sounds as they circled around the room. In a way, listening was like seeing and he could almost envision that way it crawled like a slug. Something twitched in his peripheral and he swung around to protect the robed man while he protected them from something more terrible than antiques.

It had been getting steadily harder to breath though as the  air grew more dense with dust. It coated the throat like a foul tasting cotton with every inhale, and the priest began to cough and falter until he was on his knees. Still, he kept strong, the pages of his book now rapidly being flipped through in the remaining light that seemed to shrink around them as the darkness threatened to overtake it.

The scuttling grew louder accompanied now by the slopping of something wet, circling them even faster until it seemed to come to a sudden halt just to the left of them. There was this awful tearing followed by something grotesque hitting the floor, like wads of raw meat being dumped upon a concrete surface. The priest’s voice seemed to rise in both strength and desperation as this happened, reaching a crescendo and then his palm united with the ground, spreading around them a leyline of white light. It was over from there in five seconds.

One:

The walls of shadow are shoved back forcibly by the light, the two opposing forces seeming in physical contest of one another. The air is still dense with floating clouds of dust.

Two

The papery sounds became like leaves in the wind as the tension rose to a maximum. The Gunslinger felt every creeping  millisecond knowing to choose his moment was critical now.  Another sound like slurping and then a spitting sounded from his right, and he reacted like lightning.

Three

The Outlaw lifted his sword arm and to catch what could only have been a freshly grown tongue, not sure what to have expected but prepared for it anyways. It wrapped around his forearm and attempted to pull, but he braced and pulled back.

Four

He begin to reel the hellish thing in, dragging it in by what had once been its advantage before. Despite its struggle, its drawn closer and closer towards the light like a wild bronco with all the strength that the cowboy could muster. The priest kept praying. The cowboy continued to wrangle -- and then the Tenjōname was in sight, mouth agape and screaming wildly.

Five

His trigger hand is ready, free to grab his pistol crafted more for this thing than the priest he’d aimed it at before, and puts the barrel right between its sunken eyes. The bulbous protrusions puff and release rapidly with air and a fetid smell grows enough to choke. It knows it’s time has come. He’s calm when he pulls the trigger, a loud, halting CRACK!  punctures the air...

...and then it’s over.

The dust settled, and the air became clear enough to breath again. Shadows receded rapidly, chased away by the priest’s light like a fresh dawn does the previous evening. They were left in a dimly lit room that while as old and decrepit as before, lacked the overbearing presence of hostility and weight that had been there before. In the creature’s place was left a scroll, shot from the barrel of the cowboy’s gun and The Onmyoji moved to collect the paper slip, rolling it up carefully before he extended it back to the cowboy.

The foreigner nods thankfully, tucking it into the lining of his coat and then pair depart. A little worse for wear, but happy to be leaving the rotting house behind.

references: @miya-takahashi​

#Narratives #Licked #FFXIVWrite2020 #Day 3: Muster

[ask-ethari-anything]

And now since you are free from your physical prison (aka your body) your moon arcanum is even stronger, enhance your weapons! Maybe you could re-create Garlath’s Blade of Sundering!

*eyes go wide and blaze with pure white light, white flames flicker around my form*

*holds my arm out to the side*

*that really long sword on my workshop wall yeets into my hand*

*epic pose ensues*

*unholy screeching, suck it Goku*

*sword flares white and sparks with white flame*

*pivoting leap, sketches the Moon rune in midair with the sword’s tip, badass slash toward my worktable*

*a freshly picked peach on my lunch plate falls perfectly in two, but the sword passes through the plate and table harmlessly*

*grins and props the sword over my shoulder, regaining my regular ghosty appearance* Not bad, huh? The blade sunders the living and passes through the dead. 

I’m probably going to think this is a horrible idea when I’m no longer a ghost. But for now... “shrugs lightly* You want some peach slices?

#ask ethari #ghost asks #4/5

[nicole-vicky-hades]

*Inhales* Boi!!! *Unholy screeching ensues*

[tinysidestrashcaptain]

Arch Three: Starring Roman, The Third Wheel

The thrilling third installment of the ongoing RP with @cefmua56! We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoy creating it for you! 

Confused? Here’s Arch 1 and Arch 2

Previously:

The light from the glowswords could define the creature clearly. It was deep black with orange outlines along the edges of it’s shape. It's legs came out of its body and was able to hold itself up. If Roman didn't know any better, he would say it looked like a walking, deranged...windmill? The blades on its nose twirled angrily, flinging the the inky black substance in every which way until the mirrors on its blades couldn't be more defined. They spun creating the illusion that there was a large circular mirror on the front of the windmill, reflecting the forms of the two aspects clearly back at them.

Roman stopped dead and stared at himself. Oh how helpless he looked, the weight of who he was baring down on him all at once. In a last effort before the mirror controlled his movements, he let out a plea in a shaky breath.

"Virgil sink out with me NOW!"

Virgil grabbed Roman, yanking him close. He twirled his sword, then whipped it at the mirror in front of them with all his strength, and a loud shattering sound rent the air, nearly deafening. An unholy screech filled the ensuing silence, and Virgil didn't wait. He sunk them both down. It was dark, almost like falling but he concentrated hard. He could feel the link, the tether with the mindscape, and although it nearly drained him, he forced them to land in the commons. Once there, he nearly collapsed, feeling his energy sapped away. 

"Don't ever fucking do that again." His voice held that awful distortion that only happened when his anxiety was out of control. All he wanted was to sleep, but he couldn't.

Roman sputtered as he tried to regain his lost ego and will to live, the presence of the mirror gone from his mind and conscience. He coughed again into his hand only to find blood and bits of shattered mirror. Quickly, he dematerialized the evidence so that Virgil would think he was fine. 

Cough. "I'm...sorry Virgil...I've...I should have known...it was them..." Cough. The effects of gravity worked against his strength as his efforts to stand failed him. He gave up and weakly turned his head towards the side, only to find Logan staring at the two of them worriedly. 

Cough."...oh...hey lo...” Cough. “...Ugh." The prince rolled onto his back, gasping desperately for air.

"Hey, guys. Dumbass got hurt. 'S coughing up blood." Virgil's voice was still utterly distorted, sounding demonic in its own right, but he didn't have the energy to fix it right now. His heart was pounding and he knew he'd overdone it. Once he calmed down he'd probably sleep for a week. He glared at Roman from under his bangs. He was ANXIETY did he really think he could hide anything from him? He noticed everything down to the smallest detail, all of the time. Logan sprang off the couch, immediately forgetting his work in favor of the other sides.

"Roman, Virgil, what happened?! Patton, go get the med kit from the bathroom. Virgil, can you do your breathing exercises for me? In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Good, excellent." Logan grabbed Roman, who was tottering, and gently led him to the couch. "I'm going to need an explanation while I examine you for injuries."

Patton rushed out of the kitchen and gasped in shock at the horrifying scene in front of him. "On it!" With haste he ran down the hallway into the bathroom in order to retrieve the said medical kit. He was back out in an instant and knelt next to Logan and Virgil, while handing the medical kit over to the logical side.

"Roman! Virgil! What happened!?" Patton sounded desperate. Roman coughed onto his arm revealing the mirror shards and blood to the onlookers. He tried to explain, but every time he opened his mouth more blood and more shards flew out. He kept coughing, flinging himself onto the floor in an attempt to stop it. His eyes began to water because the pain of very sharp objects flying out of his throat. In a hopeless attempt to make it stop. He cried out in pain.

"MAKE...” Cough. “IT....” Cough. “Stop!” Cough. Logan gently rubbed his hand over Roman's back, seeing the shards of something in the blood. He picked one up, inspecting it.

"Roman, you're coughing up shards of glass. It appears to be like a mirror. You have the ability to dematerialize. Can you focus enough to do that to yourself without harming yourself further? If you can dematerialize the shards in your body, it would stop the problem. The bleeding and cuts will heal quickly." He quickly looked over at Virgil, who had flopped himself on the couch.

"Virgil, are you alright?" One hand flashed a weak thumbs up, and Logan's lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. Patton covered his mouth and gasped at the amount of blood pouring out of Roman’s own.

"C'mon Roman. Dematerialize. You can do it." Patton encouraged him, placing a gentle hand on the Prince’s shoulder

In a struggling effort, the prince held in a cough and squinted his eyes shut long enough to make the blood, shards, and some of his last meal dematerialize before the other's eyes. He gasped feeling the source of the pain leave, his breath intakes gradually grew deeper. Although he winced and coughed a few couple times, he was finally well enough to speak.

"I'm sorry Virge...thank you...for...saving me. And...thank you Logan...and...Patton." He rested his head on the floor in sweet relief. Logan sighed, shaking his head.

"You really must be far more careful. What happened? How did you end up with shards of a mirror in your body?" Virgil groaned, weakly lifting his head.

"Some kind of demon thing." His voice sounded better, less distorted, but he immediately dropped his head back down. "Took all my energy to get us out."

Roman was able to sit up and lean his back against the couch. "That...was a demon that represented...vanity was it? I've heard of them in my kingdom, but I only ever encountered one once, even then I didn't see its true form. From what I've heard they are shapeshifters and can transform themselves into any being to better achieve their goals. But why this one turned into a...live windmill is beyond me. I can only say that mirror made me become what I saw in myself...and what I saw was..."

His breath left him for a split second before he regained his ability to talk again. "...was something horrible. But it also made me become what I saw physically. It was turning me into a mirror from the inside out! Virgil when you shattered the mirror...you saved me...thank you." Virgil shuddered at the explanation, remembering the way it had looked, the horrifying screech.

"Fight or flight, remember? Just don't do anything that dumb again." Logan stood, offering Roman a hand to help him to his feet.

"You both need some rest. Patton, if you could help Virgil to his room, I'll take care of Roman." Once he'd hauled the prince to his feet, he glanced over at Virgil. The anxious trait made a loud noise of protest, but wearily peeled himself off the couch, weaving his way to stand by Patton.

"I'm gonna sleep for a week, and none of you are gonna stop me." Virgil grumbled it, looking so utterly exhausted that Logan almost believed he might make good on the threat.

"Now Virgil. I can't let you sleep for a week. Who's going to eat your food for you..." Patton rambled on about Virgil's well being, obviously caring about his dark strange son. Patton gladly escorted Virgil off to his room making sure to keep him stable if he had problems standing up. He smiled back at Logan before disappearing down the hall to where Virgil's room was. Roman breathed steadily and leaned on the logical aspect for support.

"Unh...once again here I am being supported by the epitome of the Webster's dictionary." Roman was poking fun to the other times that Logan had to save him from certain illnesses or lacerations from prior adventures.

"As the dictionary is a fount of useful information, I will take that as a compliment. You really need to stop getting yourself into these predicaments, Roman. You know how much Patton worries every time you go on your 'quests', and things like this only make it worse. Additionally....I confess I do not like the idea of any of you being in danger, or coming to harm." Logan was uncomfortable  expressing emotions, but it was imperative for everyone's sake (especially Patton's) that he impress upon Roman the necessity of taking more responsibility.

As much as Roman wanted to fight him on his stance, he knew the logical aspect meant well. He sighed and allowed himself to be more compliant. The day had been rough enough already and it definitely didn't need another argument.

"Logan caring about my well-being? Patton must be rubbing off on you. It's...not a bad thing actually. You two are adorable. You are right though, I need to be more careful. Going off on quests like that all the time, it's pulling me away from my duties here in the mindscape. Thomas and you guys are my first priorities. I'm surprised I haven't given Patton a heart attack by now. I know I've given Virgil plenty." He chuckled gently and looked to the couch. "May I sleep out here? After all that, the last place I want to go to is my room." Logan nodded.

"Of course. Do you need anything from your room? Pillows, a blanket?" Roman smiled.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can conjure them myself." He clapped his hand and the fluffiest of pillows and blankets manifested on one of the couches in the commons. "See?" His iconic, pearly-white smile finally revealing itself once more. At that moment, Patton returned from the hallway, came alongside of his boyfriend, and hooked arms with him

"Virgil has been tucked in bed." He giggled. Logan smiled down at Patton, and even Roman could see the blatant affection in his face.

"Roman is not ready to return to his room, so he'll be sleeping his adventure off here in the commons. I'll come sit in the kitchen with you while I finish the last of Thomas's schedule. It shouldn't take me long. It appears that working with you actually helps me to function at a much more efficient level." One of his hands came up, gently caressing Patton's face before dropping away.

Roman nodded, confirming Logan's statement, a faint hint of jealousy flashed through his eyes and he stole a glance down the hallway to where the darker aspect's room was. He gave a sad sigh after realizing all the panic he had caused him to go through today. However, he played it off like he hated the affection between two aspects in front of him.

"Oh get a room you two." He guffawed and waved a hand at them. He then walked to the couch, laid down, and took a short rest to sleep off the days events. Patton smiled at the prince, before turning to look his handsome boyfriend in the eyes.

"Okay Logan! I always enjoy spending time with you! Eheheh! By the way, lunch is almost done! You can eat while you work if you want. I'll put the leftovers in the fridge, cuz I don't think those two are gonna get up anytime soon." Patton chuckled lightly as Logan's hand met his face and leaned to kiss him quickly. Their hands intertwined and Patton gently lead Logan towards the kitchen, the smell of lunch getting stronger with each step.

Logan rolled his eyes at Roman, but his cheeks pinked slightly at the kiss from Patton, his heart leaping in his chest. If being in Patton's presence was addictive, then all of the affection Patton was providing was ten times worse. He had never really had affection before, not on this level, and he drank it up like a parched man in a desert who had found an oasis. He was starting to think he could never have enough. He wished Roman a good rest, and allowed himself to be led to the kitchen.

"We'll have to be a little quieter to allow him to rest properly." Logan's voice was pitched lower than usual, a soft rumble. Patton's face heated up in front of him hearing the seductive sound of his voice. He also dropped his voice low and growly as if he were an adult tiger stalking his prey. Two could play at that game.

"Why yes I believe you are right, Logan. We will have to be quiet." Patton grinned maliciously and advanced a quiet step towards him. Logan froze, a shiver running down his spine at the sound of Patton's voice. That response was unexpected, but judging by the increase in his pulse rate, definitely not unwelcome.

"I....was speaking lower because it is scientifically proven that humans evolved to wake up at higher pitched sounds, such as a baby's cry, and ignore lower tones. Your reaction, however is simply fascinating." He watched Patton stalk him, interest in his eyes and a small smirk on his lips. "Whatever are you planning?" He was Logic, certainly, but he was also the physical embodiment of curiosity and right now his was killing him.

"Well, I'm just agreeing with you that we'll have to keep quiet whatever we do. Patton mirrored the same smirk and calmly walked up to him, putting only a few inches between their forms. He reached up to caress Logan's face, keeping their eyes locked on each other. The moral aspect leaned forward, looking for a kiss from the logical aspect, but as soon as Logan leaned in, Patton made his move. He reached his up to gently scuttle across Logan's ribs in a loving, gentle way still attempting to get a kiss from him.

Logan's breath hitched, and he struggled to suppress the instinctive laughter. His hands flew to grab Patton's wrists, and when he found a particularly ticklish spot on his right side, he ducked his head and sealed his lips to Patton's, muffling his laughter with an urgent kiss. He was chuckling in his throat, and he could feel the effort it was going to take for him to stay quiet. He nipped Patton's lower lip, gently soothing it with his tongue and pulled away, giving him a playful glare.

"I never knew you had a cruel streak, Patton."

It was Patton's turn for his breath to hitch, the feeling of Logan's tongue immediately left him breathless. Yes, this was definitely the man he loved. Patton chuckled in that low voice that had sent shivers up Logan's spine not a moment before.

"Who do ya think plays the dirty game in Thomas's relationships? Sure Roman is romance and everything, but the heart is where instinct lies." He met Logan's lips again kissing a little more playfully, then jerked his hands out of Logan's grasp, and began squeezing Logan's sides again. Logan squirmed, huffing softly, and trying to suppress his laughter. His lungs were burning and it was taking all of his self control not to release the stream of giggles that were trapped in his chest.

"Pa-ha-ha-tton, I-I-I c-can't--" Logan cut himself off, clapping a hand over his mouth to smother a stray laugh that escaped. One of his hands dug into Patton's belly in retaliation. If he wanted to play, it was only fair that Logan respond in kind. Patton squeaked a little higher than what should have come out of his mouth. He forced Logan's hand away from tickling a sensitive spot and jumped back, giving them space between each other.

"Heheheheheh...ok ok I give! I didn't actually think you'd retaliate." Patton basically whisper shouted and made a bee-line for the stove, using food as an excuse to escape from Logan's vicinity. "Lunch is ready by the way." He said to him softly. Logan arched a brow at him, grinning at the reaction.

"So you ARE ticklish! That's information I will remember for the future." But he yielded, knowing this particular game was not a wise one. Roman needed rest. "You are full of surprises, Patton." He smiled softly to show he wasn't bearing a grudge for the surprise tickle attack, taking a seat at the table.

Patton slightly regretted giving him that information, because he knew it would be used against him, but he didn't dislike the playful exchange so he knew it would be a pleasurable experience in the future. He smiled sheepishly towards Logan as he put the food on the plate for him and Logan to eat.

"Yeah...just slightly." He chuckled, setting the plate in front of him with a glass of water and silverware. "Chicken pasta with alfredo sauce!" He sat down in front of Logan and began to eat as well. "Do you remember how all four of us used to rough house as kids?" Logan smiled at that, memories coursing through him.

"This smells delicious, Patton. Yes, most definitely I remember. You loved tickling everyone even then. I distinctly remember one time when you pinned me and tickled me until I couldn't speak. And then there were the "wrestling" matches with Roman, thank god we don't have to partake in that anymore, and all of Virgil's impromptu games of hide and seek. It is terribly hard to find someone when you are not aware you are meant to be looking." Logan frowned a little, looking down. "It is strange to think how close we were and how far apart we managed to drift....but I am glad we are mending that rift now." Patton smiled at Logan's memories, chuckling as he recalled a few himself.

"I'm so glad we are too. I'm sad at how long it took, because there are some scars on all of us that won't completely heal, but we are getting through it together one step at a time. I really proud of you Logan. Even though we've had our spats, I've always held you at high place in my heart. I just can't believe the person who filled that high place, is now filling my longing too! I just love you so much Logan." Patton smiled and happily continued eating.

"You two are way too adorable for your own good, you know that right?" They heard Roman call out from the couch in the commons.

"Yes, we are aware, thank you." Logan called back, taking one of Patton's hands and gently brushing his lips over the knuckles before eating. He heard Roman huff from the couch and shared a soft laugh with Patton. "I am not good with emotions, Patton, but for you I am willing to learn. I am very much in love with you." It was said softly, so that the eavesdropping royal couldn't hear. Those words were meant for Patton, and Patton only. The moral aspect blushed and giggled.

"I love you too, silly goose." He gently booped his nose before allowing Logan to return to his previous activity. Patton quietly continued eating as he watched Logan work on his schedule. Once they were both finished with their food, he grabbed their plates and took them to sink, beginning to do dishes. He hummed, quietly happy that Logan was beside him, but a sudden reminder popped into his mind.

"Oh the Strawberry Shortcake!" Logan could have sworn he saw an exclamation point hover over his head for a split second as the jumpy aspect began getting the ingredients for Logan's favorite dessert.

Logan coughed to suppress the laugh that wanted to break free. God, Patton was just too cute! No adult should ever be as adorable as this one, and yet, here he is. Being so adorable it almost gave Logan chest pains. He shook his head and went back to his work, determined to finish by the time they were done with dessert so he could be free to partake in whatever activity Patton would like.

Patton quickly (and messily) whipped up a batch of fresh angel food cake batter and placed it into the oven to bake for 15 minutes. In the meantime, he got the strawberries out of the fridge, chopped them about three slices a berry, then set the chopped pieces back inside the fridge to keep cool. Somewhere along this process, he sneakily grabbed the reddi-whip out of the fridge and made sure Logan was looking away before spraying some into his mouth.

Patton giggled quietly, trying to hide his secret stealing from the logical aspect as he put it back in the fridge, but the cream on his face was a dead give away. Logan heard the sound of the whipped cream can, and glanced up to see a little smear of it on Patton's face along with a slightly guilty expression. He closed his eyes and shook his head fondly, standing and walking over to Patton.

"I suppose I should be grateful that you are hopelessly bad at keeping things from me." He gently brushed the little bit of cream off of Patton's face with his thumb, winking as he licked it off, then turned and walked back to his chair. The blush that rose over Patton's face was really quite becoming. It would seem flirtation and innuendo did wonders to fluster his counterpart. Duly noted. Logan picked up his pen and returned to his work.

"Aw diddly darn it! I'm just way too loud and clumsy to sneak anything past ya. It's not a bad trait to have though." He chuckled and got out plates to put the angel food cake on.

"Can I have some too?"

"Go to sleep Roman. It'll be here for when you wake princey!" Patton suppressed a smirk at the Royal's whine from the other room.

"It just smells so good! I can't have a tantalizing scent tickling my nose while I'm trying to sleep!" Patton rolled his eyes.

"Alright I'll bring it out to ya don't fret, but ya better go to sleep after that. I'll bid you a good KNIGHT." They heard Roman chuckle from the room and some shuffling as he turned over. Logan rolled his eyes, snorting at the pun.

"You spoil him entirely too much, Patton." It was said absently, teasingly and without malice. Roman's indignant squawk from the other room made him laugh, his eyes lighting up. "Oh dear, do you think he heard me?" The playful tone of voice was unusual for Logan, but he was hoping a little teasing wouldn't be out of place. A series of indignant princey noises followed.

Patton chuckled as he got the fresh angel food cake out of the oven turning it off and placed it on the stove tops to let it cool. About five minutes later he served them up, got the strawberries out of the fridge, and put them all over the cake and on the plate. He then retrieved the the reddi-whip once again, this time a childish grin overtook his features as he walked over to Logan.

"Open wide, Logan!"

Logan blinked in surprise. This was certainly new, and if it were anyone but Patton he would have flatly refused. But, since it was Patton, he obligingly opened his mouth. Patton giggled as he sprayed the reddi-whip in Logan's mouth until it was full, and then continued putting whipped cream on the three dishes of strawberry shortcake. Roman must have heard, because his voice rang out again.

"I want extra whip cream on mine please!"

"Oh hush Roman. You'll get your fill." Patton called back.

"Not if Logan gets his first." The blush on Patton's face could not turn anymore scarlet. The silence finally reaching the ears of the prince as the royal busted a gut from the commons at the lack of comment from the moral aspect.

As Roman cackled in the other room, Logan chuckled at Patton's beet red face, swallowing the whipped cream, a wicked smile crossing his face.

"Well, he's not wrong." Logan winked and casually ate a forkful of truly excellent dessert, pleased to hear Roman's laughter come to an abrupt halt at his comment. Patton blushed even harder, but making Roman uncomfortable? Worth it. Patton was blushing way too hard to say anything to the logical aspect so he awkwardly stood up, grabbed Roman's strawberry shortcake, and walked to the commons to give it to him.

"Thank you Patton. Now go back to your boyfriend so he can enjoy your face as if it was one of these strawberries." Patton's footsteps stopped between the commons and the kitchen.

"Gosh darnit Roman..." It was barely heard as he walked back into the kitchen to sit in front of Logan not saying another word. Face still as red as the strawberries they were eating. Logan smiled at him, sensing his discomfort.

"I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, dearest. That is never my intention... although I do find your blush to be absolutely enchanting." Logan tangled their fingers together, holding Patton's hand. "I don't ever wish to be a source of discomfort to you. And I understand that there is a great deal that has changed at a very rapid pace. There is no rush, Patton. For anything. I love you."

Patton nodded still a little too stuttery to speak correctly, but he smiled knowing Logan had meant well. He squeezed Logan's hand fondly and gently ran his thumb over his wrist, while enjoying his food. After awhile, he gained his cheery non-stuttery voice back.

"I love you Logan. Thank you so much!" He leaned up and kissed his nose intentionally getting whipped cream on the tip of Logan's nose. Logan wrinkled his nose, giving it an adorable wiggle, before reaching up to wipe the whipped cream off with a smile. Patton was simply adorable, and although such an action might have annoyed him in the past somehow he now found it endearing.

Patton giggled cheerfully at Logan’s reaction to his flirty behavior. He finished half of his strawberry shortcake before leaning back and stretching. A thought occurred to him as he remembered Virgil’s exhausted state. He knew the darker aspect wouldn’t be very appreciative of him checking in, especially after he’d only been asleep for around a half an hour. But, Patton just couldn’t help just how worried he was. The moral aspect sighed and pushed against the table, arising from his chair.

“I need to go check on Virgil. I’ll be right back Logy bear.” Patton giggled to himself at the nickname as he started back down the hallway where Virgil’s room was, passing by a lazy Roman on the way.

“Hey! Would you be a dear Patton and take my plate?”

“Just a minute Roman. I got someone more important to take care of first.”

“Ah!! Excuse me!? I am a prince!! I should come first on everyone’s priority list!”

Logan flushed pink to the tips of his ears at the adorable nickname, watching Patton go with a small, dreamy smile. Ugh, smitten! He was utterly, hopelessly smitten.

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#rp fic #logicality #prinxiety #sanders sides #logan sanders #logic sanders #patton sanders #morality sanders #roman sanders #princey sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders

[goodster]

*unholy screeching ensues as kat barges past goodster, shes chasing several weird looking smoke creatures

He only stares at what's happening. Obviously worried and slightly scared.