#1 pudding is too young

[miyuskye]

ready to fight anyone slandering pudding and sanji x pudding

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Call Me Back

Pairing: Ex!Joe Burrow x Black!Actress Reader

Description: This wasn't how your life was supposed to go, but you're glad you have friends that will always be there for you.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Horrible Communication, Toxic Relationships, Cheating, No Happy Endings Today :(

Word Count: 2.4k

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆

“God, I’m so hungry.” You say as soon as the appetizers arrive at the table.

Everything looked so good. “I could down all 6 of those plates right now.” After loading a variety of flavors onto your plate, you take the first bite of actual heaven. 

Your friends sit there in total shock, the calls of your name falling on deaf ears. By the time you look up, half of the plate is gone. “Um, when was the last time you ate?” Ariel asks, the girl with red dyed locs only had a single meatball on her plate.

You look around the table and slowly shift in your seat when only one of the five plates had been loaded.

You gulped. “Oh I skipped lunch at work, we were really busy.” 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

6 Hours Earlier

The scene had wrapped early, but lunch was scheduled at 1. As you sat in your trailer, the next 30 minutes felt like hours. You were starving, because of how long a chaotic filming of a movie is. All you had today was a protein shake. Sipping on it throughout was fine but you needed food. 

The second the clock struck one, you yanked open the door hoping to see your P.A on the other side and by the grace of god, she was.

“One Moe's Homewrecker Bowl with extra salsa, queso, and siracha. A large chocolate peanut butter cup milkshake from Steak & Shake and lastly homemade banana pudding straight from the Peach Cobbler Factory.” Deyzia handed you the bowl first and set the rest on the counter.

“D I fucking love you so much.” You moan taking a bite of your food. “I also love filming in Atlanta.”

The young girl giggled, grabbing water from the mini fridge and setting that beside you too. “You’re welcome, boss. Gotta keep the woman that pays me happy.”

You simply nodded, not caring about her words. The food was all that mattered at this moment. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Thinking back to earlier that day, you push the play forward a bit and fake a groan. “Skipping lunch was a bad idea, but I need to make room for my pasta.”

The faux brunette beside you took that as an opportunity to clean your plate. “I felt that, but I’m not letting these mozzarella sticks go to waste.”

You had to fight the pout that wanted to set on your face as your stomach started to growl. “Go on right ahead Sash, I shouldn’t be eating such greasy food anyway.”

“Oh yeah, she’s a big movie star now guys.” Diane chuckles. “Before you know it, The Cheesecake Factory will be too good for her.”

Your laugh comes out halfheartedly. “Please if it ever does, I’ll start paying for everyone’s dinner.”

You can tell the dark skin beauty liked that even if her job in real estate had a more stable future than yours.

Everyone seemed to move on from your appetite afterward, now paying more attention to Sasha's newest romantic encounters- as a newly out fem she was immensely enjoying the fun queer scene. 

But even with most eyes on her, you couldn’t help but feel another set studying your presence You quietly excuse yourself from the table and speed walk to the women’s restroom, the clacking of another pair of heels steps behind you causing sweat to build on your brow.

Looking in the mirror, you powder all the sweaty and oily spots on your face. Then reapply your favorite lip tint before your longtime friend speaks up. 

“This morning all you could talk about was that cobbler place opening back up. I heard you place the same lunch order with the addition of the banana pudding you said was ‘so incredible, to die for, astronomically delicious.’ Then you came home and downed a large fruit salad. But you’re starving- no actually you're too full, but your stomach is definitely saying the latter.” You lock eyes in the mirror, but for the first time in 8 years, you can’t read the expression on her face. 

“Yazmine.”

Her strong bronze arms cross over her chest, some of her blonde braids getting caught in the process. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?” 

“Yaz…” 

“No, we’ve been best friends since drama school and this is how you tell me?!” Her eyes are so scolding you shift your focus to putting your makeup away.

“Eliza!” The harsh tone of her voice makes you jump but paired with the role you’ve wanted since you knew what theater was it brought chills to your skin. The day you met, you both chose to audition with a Hamilton song so the director made you sit for each other’s ‘performances,’ in the end she became the Angelica to your Eliza.

“Yaz, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your hands shake as you close your purse and turn to leave. But her now soft mousy voice stops you. "Just wait."

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” 

Because you hadn’t admitted to yourself.

Turning you lay your head against the granite wall and show her the small pools in your eyes. “I.. I didn’t notice it at first, after most shoots I slept for hours. I didn’t want to eat but that was sort of normal. Then the um- cravings started, I was just glad my appetite was back. But I started getting sick, and that’s when I really noticed the changes. I kept telling myself they’d go away, that it’s not really happening. I still haven’t said it out loud, but it’s been two months. I wrap in a few days, the movie’s been a great distraction, but I-I don’t know what to do. The doctor said everything’s fine, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. I-I don’t-

She takes two large steps and engulfs you in her arms. “Hey, hey I’m here. I’m here Liza. You’re gonna be fine, I’m gonna help you through this. Don’t worry about it, you’re not alone babe. You have me, Dia, Sasha, Ariel, shit even Deyzia, we’ll always be here for you.”

You sob even harder. “I-I hav-haven’t-

“Shhhh, take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” She just rocks you in her arms, the safe and secureness she oozes is more than enough to calm a bear. 

You slowly pick up your head and wipe away the remaining tears. “I haven’t told him. I found out after we broke up, he blocked me on everything and I changed my number. I don’t know if I can go through this with him, after everything we’ve been through. I can’t Yaz, I can’t tell him.”

She kisses your head and whispers against your heated skin. “I’ll tell him and I’ll whoop his ass in the process.”

You snort against her neck, softly pushing her away. “Thank you, I honestly have no idea what I’d do without you, Angel.” She smiles and wraps an arm around you.

“I know, who do you think helped you with all those damn orphanages?” You roll your eyes at her smirk as you walk back into the dining room.

“So who’s telling the girls?”

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

“Ja’Marr! Open up! I see his stupid car outside, you’re not fooling anyone!” Yazmine’s incessant yelling and banging on the Cincinnati door seize when the tatted wide receiver yanks it open.

“Woman, you need to chill the fuck out. Whatchu’ doing all that hollerin’ for?” The football player dawned a sweaty white muscle shirt and basketball shorts, clearly he had just finished a workout. Yazmine would usually take more time admiring his strong build, but that’s not why she’s here.

“Where is he? Bring Burrow’s ass out, we need to have a chat.” She demands arms crossed and lips pursed.

Ja’Marr smirks doing his own look over the woman in front of him. “Mm mm mmm. You sure are breathtaking, baby.” He bites his bottom lip tilting his head to get a peak at her backside. “What did I do to earn the sight of this..

“Hey! No, focus Chase.” She snaps her fingers in his face to riel him back in. “Joseph. Burrow. Get him. Now.”

He takes in the serious look on her face and shakes his head. “I assume this is about your girlfriend, so..” He steps back and opens the door wide enough for her to go through then nods towards the direction of his kitchen.

“Thank you.” Yazmine leans up and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. “If this goes well, you might get more later.” Then walks off looking for the quarterback.

“I better be getting more, fucking HOA gon kill me for the damn noise.”

Turning a wide corner, Yazmine spots the man she’s been searching for at the kitchen counter, wearing almost the exact attire as his friend. “Oh sorry, I didn't know you and J were rendezvousing today.”

She looks at the man confused. “Rendezvous? That’s not what we’ve been- nothing is going on.”

Joe cocked his head with a smirk. “Isn’t it though? I’m pretty sure sneaking around for months on end means there’s definitely something going on behind closed doors.”

Yazmine rolls her eyes and sits on a bar stool, leaving an empty one in between them. “Whatever that’s not why I’m here- didn’t you hear me at the door?”

He points to the Beats headphones fitted snugly in his ear.

“Okay well, this is about you and..” Joe scoffs hopping up from the stool.

“If there’s no you and J, there definitely isn’t a me and her. I don’t want to hear it, she clearly doesn't either considering she’s not here herself.” 

Yaz gets up and follows him to the backyard. “This is serious Joe, if she could be here, you know she would.”

“Actually I don't know anything about her anymore, including her number, because she changed it hours after we broke up.” He muttered picking up a basketball, bouncing it once, and shooting- only to airball.

“She had to change it, remember the stupid leak! You didn’t have to block her on everything though, maybe if you had left at least one line of communication open I wouldn't be here, asshole.” She snickers as his second shot also falls short.

“Well get the damn thing over with then. What’s the problem?” 

Her face softens and she reaches into her back pocket. “Joe, she’s pregnant.” 

His frustrated demeanor immediately drops, replaced with wide eyes and parted lips. He slowly feels his world start spinning, he parts his stance and grips onto the basketball for some kind of relief.

“She’s 11 weeks, almost 3 months. It’s most definitely yours and she just got back in town. She wanted me to tell you because she was scared of your reaction, she’s not sure if she wants you to be there though.” Yazmine confesses handing him an ultrasound picture.

“What do y- what? Why wouldn’t she want me there? I- I don’t understand.” His eyes are locked on the image as it shakes in his hand. 

Yazmine lets out a breath. “Think about it Joe, you were nothing but unreliable in the 3 years you were together. You put football, your foundation, even your friends before her. Then when she got her big break, the happiest day of her life, she had to come home to you in bed with someone else. You didn’t know how to be in a relationship so instead of asking her how she felt, you broke her heart. Does that sound like someone she’d want to raise a child with? She didn’t even want to admit to herself, I didn’t find out until a few weeks ago.” She inhales deeply trying to calm her emotions.

“I’m only telling you because it would be cruel not to. Even if I thought telling you would do the trick if that's what she was going for. She doesn’t want anything from you, so don’t worry about being put on child support. I don’t know how the rest of this is going to go, but I will not let you and your bullshit upset her, stress her out, or bother her about it. That’s my best friend and I will do anything to protect her. You may not want to step up to be a father, but that baby will have two parents no matter what.” A stray tear streams down her face, he’s now looking at her intently. 

“Now you have a choice: keep the picture, hide it somewhere then sign away your rights in a few months, or turn it over and change your life.” Yazmine swiped away the tear and then left him alone on the court.

Joe hadn’t realized he too had been crying until a tear dripped onto the paper. He stumbled over to a lawn chair, not taking his eyes off of the black and white fetus. The damp spot now made the paper translucent allowing him to see blue ink on the other side. His brows furrowed then he remembered, ‘Turn it over and change your life.’

Flipping the image hope peaked in his heart as he repeatedly read the number.

The quarterback quickly began to pat his shorts, realizing he left his phone inside. He rushed into the house, passing Yazmine and completely ignoring his teammate to grab his phone on the kitchen counter. Not caring about the small audience he dials the number as fast as he can, praying that she’ll answer.

“Come on, come on. Please pick up.” It goes straight to voicemail, her fake perky voice fibbing about calling back on the other side instead.

But he still takes the chance and leaves a message. “Baby, it’s me. I know, Yaz told me. I’m so sorry, I know it’s long overdue but please if there’s a chance I wanna be there. If this is the only time that I have to get through to you, I’m taking the shot. I know you deserve way better than me and that baby- our baby deserves to have a family that loves them and cherishes them for everything. Give me a chance to be the man you need me to be, I miss you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t see what I had right in front of me. I’m sorry about the image you have of me in her head. If I could start all this over again, I’d change everything I did- I was selfish and foolish. I need you.. I want you, you’re the only one I want. Please, I want to be a father to our baby. I watch them grow up with you. Even if we don’t work out again, I won’t leave our baby. I won’t leave you until you’re kicking and screaming for me to go. Just give me one more shot, to show you that I can be who you need me to be. I don't want this to be the end of our story, tell me I have more time. Please baby, just call me back.”

'This mailbox is now full. Goodbye.'

☆. ° ₊*. :°• .° . ☆ • . .　

Main Masterlist

Like, comment and reblog for a part 2 (should she call him back?)

[kwimii999]

Previous updates : #1 - #2 - #3

Previous polls : #1 - #2

Note : this project is going to take me some time because of the reasons under here. Most of it is based on how I want townies to generate and making CAS an easier and less time consuming experience for everyone !

I'm a college student 😭

I have to make sure they look fine for the townies more so that if you use random sim fixes or simler's core mod to get rid of pudding faces, they won't look out of place

I have to make sure each and every preset can be used with one another, so I actually have rules and numbers that I need to respect for the sliders I modify ex. : most of the noses height are set to -50, because it looks good on both genders and all ages and fits the new headshapes and their new height

I have to make sure that even though they're generic, they're also different from eachother and don't have same face syndrome

I have to make sure that they're diverse and find the right balance

Certain sliders I have to add manually (that takes time) because they do not get exported with the Face Preset Editor

As I said in previous update, I will only release this when I'm fully done with every single presets of each category : eyes, mouths, heads and noses, since it's easier that way for me and better for you guys as well :)

What's different this time ?

Well I've opted for a different approach, remember when I said I wasn't going to change the look of the original head presets ? well I changed my mind, since I've been asked to include defined headshapes a few times which I said I would do in a different set of non default face presets but I decided that doing this way instead would be better since it could include defined headshapes but also the other headshapes (Oval, Square, Round, Slightly Longer) - (Excluding the World Adventure's asian presets, they will recieve their own modification)

For the heads everything has been changed to : 2 Ovals, 2 Heart/Defined, 2 Rounds, 2 Squares, 2 Slightly Longer. (10 in total) The same shapes won't be identical of course.

For the eyes, they need small modifications

For the mouths, It needs more of a balance and diversity

For the noses, they need a complete overhaul

All the new flavors

There is now 6 flavors for version 2 of the headshapes with all the polls I've made. Thank you for all the answers by the way it really helps direct this project to better understand what you guys may want :)

Without SmoothFaceNormals

Flavor 1 - Base game compatible

Flavor 2 - Male neck fix

Flavor 3 - Male neck fix + Neck width smaller + Longer necks

With SmoothFaceNormals (Slider set to a specific number for all headshapes, won't be too high)

Flavor 4 - smoothfacenormals

Flavor 5 - smoothfacenormals + Male neck fix

Flavor 6 - smoothfacenormals + Male neck fix + Neck width smaller + Longer necks

What do you mean by longer necks though ? This is what I mean :

How do the headshapes look so far ?

Well, since I'm close to completing flavor 1, since it's the base of every other flavor and needed so I can work on the others. I've choosen my sims Owen and Shana to showcase them on both genders and the young adult life stage.

V.2 - Flavor 1 - Base game compatible

I'm so close to finishing the headshapes I just need to make some faces rounders and some more different from eachother and I should be done with the flavor 1 (For reference this is like my 10th WIP.... )

Question - 1 " Why are the presets not in order (ex. Oval 1 then Oval 2) " - Answer : That's because I'm unable to figure it out :(

EA Default headshapes

In addition

So, they won't immediatly come with the thumbnails once they're out because apparently there's 2 thounsand image files ??? 😀........... I ... BYE. I'm not even sure I wanna do them anymore lol.

[cegantheayugipi]

The Last Padisarah Pudding, Part 3

An Alhaitham Enemies to Lovers Smut Oneshot

Link to artist

Summary: You never realized an innocent date with your best friend would set off your rival like this... He never seemed like the jealous type -- until he cornered you in the kitchen, demanding to know the nature of your friendship...

Word Count: 9.4k

Part 1

Part 2 (smut)

MINORS DNI!!! BIG SMUT BELOW THE CUT!!

Tags include: Hate sex, competitive sex, aggressive sex, hair pulling, choking, biting, orgasm denial, power dynamics, spanking, I'm so sorry I'm forgetting more but the list is just too long

You dipped your spoon into the bowl of unusually colored Padisarah Pudding in front of you, taking a bite of your favorite desert and smiling from the familiar flavors.

“Your cooking is delicious as always, Nilou!” You spoke to the redhead seated across the table. The two of you were sitting at one of the small wooden picnic tables inside the Grand Bazaar, not far from the Zubayr Theater where Nilou worked.

The dancer merely laughed, “I’m just glad we have time to enjoy it together. It’s been a while since we’ve last met.”

“That’s true, it really has been a while.” You nodded, realizing you had been incredibly busy since you graduated… At least, until the chemical “incident” that had led to your house being deemed temporarily uninhabitable by Amurta Scholars. Now that your schedule was relatively clear, you had time to hang out with your friend – your best friend, in fact. You and Nilou had known each other since you were little. Once upon a time, you wanted to be a dancer like her too… but your thirst for knowledge eventually outweighed your love for dance, and you ended up choosing the other side of Sumerian society – the one that sadly disapproved of your favorite hobby.

Despite the cultural rift that separated your young adult years from Nilou’s, you still made a consistent effort to spend time with her. During your years at the Akademiya, you enjoyed coming down to the Bazaar and dancing at the theater with your best friend. It was a wonderful way to de-stress.

“Hmm…” you trailed off as you reminisced.

“Are you lost in thought again, Y/N?” Nilou asked, resting her chin on both hands as she smiled at you.

“Ah, yeah, I was just thinking about the times we used to dance together.” You responded, your tone carrying a hint of nostalgia.

“Well, the stage is available for the next couple of hours, and I have a spare outfit you can use. Why not try a dance after we’re done with the pudding?”

“That actually sounds like a wonderful idea…” You grinned. “But speaking of pudding, do you have any extras I can take with me? After all, you invented the red Padisarah Pudding, and it doesn’t quite taste the same when I try to recreate it at home.”

“Of course! Whenever we meet, I always make sure to bring extras of your favorite dessert.” Nilou nodded.

When the two of you were finished with your desserts, you stood up from the table and dusted off your clothes.

“Actually, some dancing is exactly what I need. I should really make an effort to exercise if I keep eating so much pudding, otherwise it’ll just go to my waistline.” You joked, laughing.

“Oh, shut it! You’ve always had a beautiful figure. Don’t worry about things like that.” Nilou shook her head as she stood up with you, reaching out to give you a hug. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You blushed at Nilou’s overt compliment. “You’re too sweet, Nilou.”

The redhead withdrew from the hug, reaching up one hand to caress your cheek.

“It’s only true.” She smiled, “Now, let’s get going.”

The redhead outstretched a hand to you, and you took it as a smile broke across your face. The two of you began to walk towards Zubayr Theater together.

Meanwhile, standing beside a vendor selling textiles, a blonde head of hair tracked the two of you as you walked away holding hands.

“Sir, did you still want the broadcloth?” The vendor asked, wondering why the blonde seemed so distracted.

“Uhm, yes.” Kaveh responded, shaking his head. “I’ll take swatches in all the colors you have.”

He was still very distracted, having been thoroughly confused by what he just witnessed. Nilou and you had just hugged, then she touched your face, then the two of you walked away holding hands… Kaveh’s eyes widened as he had a brutal realization.

‘Is she… in a relationship?’

~~~

Kaveh slammed the front door to Alhaitham’s house shut behind himself, kicking off his shoes in the entryway before stalking over to the living room table and tossing down the fabric swatches he had just bought. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing back his messy blonde bangs.

“Always making a grand entrance whenever you come home.” Alhaitham sighed, flipping to the next page of the book he was reading.

“Wh-” Kaveh spun around as he realized Alhaitham had been sitting on one of the couches this entire time, his nose buried in yet another book. “And you’re always secluding yourself away like a lone wolf, preferring to spend your time reading rather than talking to anyone.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Alhaitham responded, his eyes still locked onto the page as his gaze scanned across the lines of small letters.

“Maybe if you got up and talked to people for once, you’d find out more about Y/N too.” Kaveh sighed.

“What about her?” Alhaitham shrugged. “I spoke to her just this morning. Still stubborn and indignant, as she has been for the past week she has stayed here.”

“Did you ever stop to think it could be because we fucked her while she’s in a relationship?” Kaveh spat bluntly, his voice wavering from the intense anger and panic he felt about this situation.

Alhaitham looked up from his book. This surprised Kaveh – he had never seen Alhaitham so readily stop reading like that. The scribe gave him a perplexing look… confusion, mixed with… panic?

“What?” Alhaitham muttered.

“I saw her on a date. With that dancer at the Zubayr theater. On a date, Alhaitham!” Kaveh exclaimed.

“With who? Nilou?”

“The redhead who’s always famous for her dancing, Alhaitham.” Kaveh’s description confirmed Alhaitham’s suspicion.

“There’s no way. She never gave me any hint that she was-” Alhaitham cut himself off, his eyes moving from side to side as he thought. “Where did you see them?”

“The Grand Bazaar.” Kaveh responded flatly.

Alhaitham closed his book with one hand, the cover snapping shut with force. He abruptly stood up from the couch, tossing the book onto the living room table before walking directly towards the front door.

“Who’s being dramatic now?” Kaveh scoffed, but Alhaitham was too busy running through all of his memories looking for any hint of an answer to the question.

Were you already in a relationship?

~~~

“Wow, Nilou, this outfit is gorgeous! It looks just like yours, except the color is different.” You smiled, twirling in the mirror.

“I thought it’d suit you! That’s why I kept it around even though it doesn’t quite fit right anymore.” Nilou responded, fixing the headdress and her bangs in a vanity on the other side of the dressing room. She looked up for a second, only to see something peculiar on the back of your neck.

“Y/N, are you bruised?” Nilou questioned, getting up from her seat at the vanity and walking towards you.

“A-ah,” You blushed, your hand immediately going up to the dark purple mark that stood out now that your hair was out of the way. “Well, about that…”

Nilou let out a gasp.

“Did my dearest innocent Y/N finally get intimate with someone?”

“U-uhm, yeah…”

“And you didn’t tell me about it earlier?” Nilou questioned, far more excited than offended you had withheld this information from her. She hugged you from behind, snaking her arms around your waist. “Who was it with? Is it someone I know?”

You suddenly felt extremely shy.

“It was two people…” Your voice fell to a soft murmur.

Nilou let out another gasp, her eyes going wide.

“And one of them was Alhaitham.”

“The CLASSMATE YOU HATED?!” Nilou practically screamed. “I remember when all you would do when we hung out was rant about how much you hated him! Oh, to think how the tides have turned! I’m so happy for you!” Nilou swayed on her feet. 

“I still hate him.” You grumbled. “Smug bastard.”

“Huh? You still hate him, even though you…” Nilou trailed off, tilting her head to the side with confusion.

“Forget about it, let’s just dance!” You changed the subject, twirling on your feet and watching the fabric flare around your body.

“Alright, alright, let’s go!” Nilou nodded, understanding it was something you’d rather not talk about.

~~~

Alhaitham pushed his way through the crowds at the Grand Bazaar. He hated the busy underground market, and never came here unless he absolutely had to.

And after hearing what Kaveh had said, he really had to.

The crowd of people grew thicker and thicker as he made his way towards the center of the Bazaar, where Zubayr Theater stood. Alhaitham wondered why there would be so many people standing in place, but that was until he looked at the main stage and promptly froze in shock.

There you twirled elegantly, almost professionally, stepping in time alongside Nilou. Alhaitham couldn’t even get started on what you were wearing. He had never seen you in clothing like this, something that hugged your figure and suited you so perfectly. The fabric swayed with the tantalizing way you moved. 

Alhaitham found himself enthralled by your dance. He normally never enjoyed things like this, preferring something far more interesting like a new book. Perhaps it was because it was incredibly rare to see you so at peace, so truly happy out on the stage.

For a moment, Alhaitham doubted everything he had ever known about you. If he hadn’t spent six years at the Akademiya and his early professional career butting heads with you, he would have assumed you had only ever been a dancer.

And the way you moved in sync with Nilou…

A hand trailed over your bare stomach, Nilou’s arms moving gracefully and delicately over your body as the two of you danced. After another spin, you did the same to Nilou, and Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he saw a smile grow across the redhead’s face.

Alhaitham realized Kaveh was exactly right to say what he said. The way you moved in perfect sync with the Nilou, your bodies coming within inches of each other during certain moves, it made the dance seem almost intimate.

You and Nilou finished the dance with a twirl, coming to a rest side-by-side, one arm wrapped around each other’s waist while the other waved at the huge crowd that had gathered around the stage.

The sea of people roared, cheering and clapping for the two dancers. Alhaitham saw you let out a laugh that he couldn’t hear since the crowd was far too loud. You turned to Nilou with a flushed face and spoke something, and she nodded in response. The two of you began to walk to different parts of the stage; it seemed like you were beginning another dance.

Suddenly, Alhaitham couldn’t bear to watch anymore – he turned around and stormed away, his head now filled with far too many thoughts that he didn’t want to think.

~~~

You hummed to yourself as you walked into Alhaitham’s kitchen, carefully putting away the Padisarah Pudding that Nilou had sent home with you. It was hard not to eat it all immediately – Nilou’s specialty was your favorite food, and you truly believed you’d never get sick of eating it.

First, however, you really wanted a bath. It had been a long day for you, and you were looking forward to a luxurious soak in the guest bedroom’s ensuite bath. After all, you only had two days left before Amurta scholars would perform their inspection of your old apartment to deem it habitable once again, so you felt the need to make the most of Alhaitham’s luxurious house.

You turned around to leave the kitchen when a hand came out of nowhere, landing on the cabinet beside your head with a loud bang.

You nearly jumped at the noise – looking up, you realized it came from a glowering Alhaitham.

“What are you wearing?” Alhaitham stared down at you.

“It’s a dancing outfit, why are you even asking?” You grumbled. “Have you never seen one before?”

‘Not one on you.’

Alhaitham held back his words, despite wanting so badly to say that you shouldn’t be allowed to wear something so… provocative in public. So, instead, Alhaitham decided to cut to the chase.

“What are you and Nilou to each other?” Alhaitham questioned, narrowing his eyes.

You blinked.

Well, Alhaitham was certainly getting straight to the point.

“Excuse me…?” You muttered, baffled. What on earth was he talking about?

“It’s a simple question.” Alhaitham leaned closer to you, his eyes scrutinizing the look on your face. “I saw the two of you dancing at the Grand Bazaar. What is Nilou to you?”

You scoffed as you realized what he was concerned about.

“What are you, jealous?” You smirked. ”I thought you hated the Grand Bazaar. Why were you even there?”

“Just answer my question.” Alhaitham narrowed his eyes at you, his expression growing more and more frustrated.

“Hah.” Alhaitham’s insistence confirmed it. “I’m not surprised you’re jealous of Nilou, you’re just a feeble scholar after all.”

Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he leaned in closer to your face, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s a simple question.” He spoke. All he wanted was an answer from you, so he would have to ignore your childish teasing until he got one.

“She’s my best friend, you ASSHAT!” Your voice rose into a shout.

“Then why have I never seen you two together before?” Alhaitham questioned.

“You would have if you ever bothered to visit the Bazaar.” You scoffed. “But you’re too busy acting like Academics are superior to anything else in Sumeru, with your stupid superiority complex that makes you feel like you have to run laps around your own professors to have any sense of achievement.”

“As if you aren’t the same.”

“That’s because I’m NOT!” You spat, your lips forming a bitter frown. “I used to be a dancer before I joined the Akademiya… but you’d never understand that side of Sumerian Culture.”

“Dancing is a pointless waste of time. You were far better off in the Akademiya.” Alhaitham spoke sharply.

Your eyes went wide.

“Fuck you, Alhaitham.”

The scribe didn’t realize how hurtful his words truly were to you… he was simply glad you chose to become a scholar because otherwise, he would have never met you in the first place.

“So you and Nilou really are nothing more than friends?” Alhaitham pressed further, only deepening your wound.

“Is that all you fucking care about? Asshole.” You averted your gaze from the scribe that towered over you, slipping out from where he had nearly sandwiched you against the wall.

You were done with the conversation. You were going back to the guest bedroom to take a bath like you had been planning to do after a long day in the city. 

“Wait,” Alhaitham followed after you, completely disregarding the way you made it very obvious that you no longer wanted to speak to him.

“You really never know when to stop.” You scoffed, spinning around and stalking towards him until you were face-to-face again. “Why do you feel the need to hear that Nilou and I were only ever friends? Are you really that jealous?”

“I want to make sure I didn’t force you to cheat.” Alhaitham spoke flatly, his tone unusually bland as he was finally forced to voice the worry that had been plaguing him for the whole day.

“Oooooh you SELFISH BASTARD!” You roared. “Do you really think you made me do all of that with you and Kaveh? I can make choices too! I’m not some child or some idiot you can just manipulate to feed your selfish desires, no matter how much you wish that was the case!”

As you shouted, you placed a palm flat on Alhaitham’s chest, pushing him backwards until his back collided with the wall beside a doorway.

Alhaitham was speechless at your sudden shove, having never seen you act in such a way. This time, he had his back against the wall, and you were leaning far too close to him. He could see the rage in your eyes, the indignation his questioning had caused you…

Your hands suddenly reached up, raking through his hair before pulling his head down to crash your lips into his. Alhaitham’s arms moved on impulse, slipping around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.

The kiss was aggressive, hungry, your teeth tearing at his lips. Alhaitham’s hands began to travel down your waist, his hands roaming over your body and savoring its supple curves. 

Your hands dropped from his head and pushed against his shoulders as you broke from the kiss, leaning away from him. There was still a fire in your eyes despite your swollen cheeks and flushed face.

Alhaitham was stunned as one of your hands flew up to strike him across his face.

“Fuck you.” You spat, and despite the harsh hit he had just received, Alhaitham immediately began to smirk.

“Only if you insist.”

You let out a guttural moan that could be described as something close to a growl… Your hand reached up to grab the collar of Alhaitham’s shirt, pulling him forwards so your lips could collide again.

This time, your hand snaked down the front of his torso, going for the growing bulge in his pants. You smirked as you palmed it, eliciting a groan from the Scholar.

“Only a little kissing, and you’re already this hard?” You sneered.

With something halfway between a scoff and a laugh, Alhaitham’s hands slid under the curve of your ass to grip your upper thighs.

“Jump.” He ordered, his voice cold.

You were about to argue back at him, but Alhaitham didn’t seem to care whether you jumped or not – with strength alone he lifted you off your feet, bringing your legs up to hook around his torso and give himself better access to you.

The scribe spun around to put your back against the wall this time, rolling his hips and pressing his stiff length against the clothing that hid your drooling pussy. A breathy gasp escaped your lips, and Alhaitham broke the kiss to lean back and stare into your half-lidded eyes.

“Who’s the one getting turned on now?” He smirked.

“Bastard-” You grumbled, but Alhaitham quickly cut you off by smothering your mouth with his. It felt like you were fighting against his lips, the way they seemed to devour you. His hips continued to roll, spreading pleasure like a wildfire through your body as his erection pressed near-painfully into you. You wrapped your legs around his torso tighter, your thighs squeezing his waist as he held you against the wall.

“Mmmh!” You moaned into the kiss, your eyes squeezing shut as Alhaitham ground into you again. Alhaitham used your temporary weakness to rudely invade your mouth with his tongue.

You tried your best to withhold the moan that threatened to escape as Alhaitham’s tongue swirled around yours. It felt so good – but that fact alone made you angry.

You groaned, deciding to bite down on Alhaitham’s tongue. However, he seemed to sense this coming as he withdrew from the kiss, a string of saliva hanging between the two of you.

“Hah.” You scoffed. “Are you getting off to the fact that Kaveh is home and could walk in at any moment?”

“You’re assuming that I care.” Alhaitham responded with a smirk, dipping his head down to latch his lips onto the tender skin of your neck.

“Disgusting bas- haaah-” You groaned as he bit down and sucked at your sensitive skin, the pain only adding to the growing pool of wetness in your pants. Alhaitham moved to a different spot, continuing to litter your skin with marks. As he attacked your neck with his mouth, the pain became sharper and sharper. You realized he was breaking your skin with his teeth as you let out an airy moan.

Your hands went up to the back of his head, grabbing onto his hair in order to stop him from ruining your skin any more. It took a lot of strength, but you managed to pull him away from you. Alhaitham seemed to let out a low growl as you interrupted him. 

“Stop it! Do you even care that you’re gonna leave marks?” You shouted, pulling on his hair even harder – to the point where you were beginning to pull out his hair.

“Stop pulling on me.” Alhaitham grumbled.

“No, fuck you!” You squirmed, grinding your crotch down on Alhaitham, making him grunt from the sudden stimulation.

“Let go.” Alhaitham ordered, his eyes squinting from the pain you were causing him by pulling at his hair. One of his hands shifted from under your thighs to wrap around your neck, giving the slender column of your airway a warning squeeze as he rolled his hips into you again.

With a groan, you finally let go of Alhaitham’s hair… leaving strands of gray in your hands.

You didn’t care as you tipped your head forward to mash your lips into his. You grunted, turning your head to attack at a different angle. You bit at Alhaitham’s lips, growing more and more aggressive after everything Alhaitham had done to you.

The scribe stepped away from the wall, both hands planted firmly on your ass as he began to carry you. He walked through the doorway beside the two of you, neither of you breaking the passionate kiss as you moved. As Alhaitham walked into the room, he threw his cloak onto the floor – he wouldn’t be needing it, anyway.

Alhaitham came to a stop. He suddenly pulled his head back, throwing you down. You let out a yelp as you fell backward. For a split-second you truly believed you were being thrown onto the floor. However, as extremely soft blankets stopped your fall, you realized Alhaitham had thrown you down on a bed – his bed.

“Fuck you, Alhaitham!” You reached up to smooth your hair back. Only then did you realize your hands were covered with silver strands of Alhaitham’s hair, and the scribe stared at this with ire.

“Were you trying to make me go bald?” Alhaitham questioned angrily, reaching one hand up to feel the back of his head.

“Yeah, your hair is ugly.” You joked.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes.

“Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.” Alhaitham immediately responded.

“Hah. Did you just compliment me?”

Alhaitham replied by hooking his slender fingers around the waistband of your skirt. He gave a harsh tug, reducing the beautiful fabric of Nilou’s skirt to shreds.

“HEY!” Your voice rose into a shout. “These clothes are borrowed!”

“You ripped out my hair, so it’s only fair that I get to return the favor.” Alhaitham sneered. He reached one hand down to your underwear, pausing as he felt your soaked underwear. Pressing two fingers into the wet fabric, he forced a moan from your lips.

“Ngh, asshole!”

“Hah.” Alhaitham smirked. “You’re so wet it’s almost pitiful. Do these kinds of discussions turn you on this much?”

“I wouldn’t call them discussions. And you’re one to talk when your dick is trying to escape your pants.”

You reached down and gripped Alhaitham’s shaft tightly, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.

“Hah.” Alhaitham grunted as he tried to ignore the pleasure shooting up his stomach. He hooked his fingers around the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head, discarding the piece of clothing on the floor behind him. He climbed onto the bed on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress beside both of your shoulders and caging you between his arms.

Alhaitham dipped his head down for a passionate and aggressive kiss. Your teeth knocked together, tearing at each others’ lips, vying for dominance. The scribe reached down and roughly grabbed the wrist of your hand that was on his crotch, bringing your arm up beside your head and pinning it in place. He ground into you again, this time with very little clothing between the two of you.

You moaned, but you weren’t going to break the kiss – and neither was he.

It was a competition now.

You squirmed in response, pushing your hips up to roughly counter his action. It elicited a grunt from him, but he still didn’t break the kiss. You bit down on his lips hard – hard enough to taste the metallic blood that you had drawn.

Alhaitham grunted at the pain, and you felt his dick twitch against your inner thigh. You smirked into the kiss as he silently cursed you. 

As retribution, Alhaitham’s free hand roamed down your torso. His fingers trailed over your bare stomach, hooking around the waistband of your panties, ripping them clean from your body with a single pull.

“Mmmh!” Your exclamation was muffled by Alhaitham’s lips. The sudden sensation of cool air directly on your wet heat made you press your thighs together, but they were stopped by Alhaitham’s hips which were still hovering right in front of your aching pussy. You wanted nothing more than to fall fully into this incredible sensation, 

The scribe quickly freed his aching cock without you noticing – at least, not until he pressed his leaking tip against your entrance.

You froze for a moment, the sudden friction of bare skin against bare skin sending pleasure shooting through your body.

“Hahh.” Alhaitham finally broke the kiss, but you were too turned on to feel any sense of victory.

The scribe looked down at you, reveling in your pleasure-ridden expression and the way you squirmed beneath him.

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” He smirked, making you seethe with anger.

“Why you- haah!” Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham pressed himself into you, stretching you with his ridiculous girth. “Stop it- Fuck!”

You tried to kick your legs out to push him away. Alhaitham pulled his hips back slightly, seeming like he was complying with you, but only pushed forwards again moments later. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip rub against your sensitive walls, and Alhaitham reveled in the way you fell apart beneath him.

“Ahn- haaah~ Fuck yo-” You went completely silent as he bottomed out inside of you, your face contorting with pleasure.

“When will you learn,” Alhaitham spoke as he slowly withdrew from you, “That you can’t win,” Alhaitham thrust his hips forwards, “against me.” He came to a stop, fully sheathed inside of you again.

“Aahhhnn~” Your back arched as you felt him invade your painfully sensitive pussy once more. Your legs twitched, and for a moment you couldn’t control your body anymore.

The pleasure made you forget all the anger you had harbored towards him; it was pitiful how easily you came undone. Alhaitham began to roll his hips, the slow prodding against your tender walls making you lose your sense of self.

His movements grew faster and larger; a squelching noise began to fill the room as he pushed in and out of you.

“Aaah stop it you bas- nngh!” Your words quickly became garbled from the pleasure Alhaitham was giving you. He rolled his hips into you harder, pressing himself against the plush of your ass, the tip of his swollen cock reaching even further inside of you.

“Why couldn’t you have been this easy in the Akademiya?” Alhaitham’s condescending tone grated against your ears, making your eyes go wide with shock. You snapped out of your pleasure-filled haze, suddenly enraged once again.

“How DARE YOU!” Your hands shot up to his chest, pushing against the scribe. Your irascibility only made Alhaihtam more smug, and it infuriated you. Gritting your teeth, you tried your hardest to push Alhaitham off of you – he was just too heavy, and your legs were just too weak with him still fucking into you.

So, instead, you reached your hands down and pinched one nipple – hard.

“Haah- fuck!” Alhaitham groaned, his hips stuttering, overwhelmed by the sudden jolt of pleasure you gave him.

“Oh?” You murmured, pinching harder. A fierce blush grew across Alhaitham’s face.

“S-stop that.” He grunted, his movements coming to a standstill.

“Oh, so now we’re allowed to say stop?” You retorted.

Twisting your body, you used all of your core and leg strength to flip Alhaitham over. He groaned as you forced him to pull out of you, kicking his hips over and forcing him to roll onto his side on the mattress.

You practically pounced onto him, straddling his waist as you bent down and latched your lips around one of his nipples. You pinched the other with one hand, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger. Alhaitham squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, making you laugh while you swirled your tongue around one nipple.

“Look at you, power tripping over the smallest of advantages- haah!”

You bit down on his nipple, eliciting a pained gasp from the scribe. Alhaitham hated the fact that he enjoyed this – reaching up, he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your face away from his sensitive chest.

“Advantage?” You scoffed, your neck straining against Alhaitham’s grip. “I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this.”

“I have to admit, after all our -hnng- years at the Akademiya, you’re just as -fuck!- insufferable as ever.” Alhaitham groaned, tilting his head back and letting go of your hair as you ground down on his painfully hard dick.

“You’re one to talk.” You spoke. “You were the worst classmate I’ve ever had.” Your voice dripped with spite as you rolled your hips again, drawing another groan from Alhaitham.

“How could I be the worst classmate when I was always the best in the class?” Alhaitham retorted, pushing his hips up into you, grinding his length against your swollen folds.

“I could give you a comprehensive list.” You quickly responded, twisting his nipple – hard. You leaned down, biting and sucking at the soft skin of his chest. You wanted to leave marks bad enough to be seen through his ridiculous sheer skin-tight shirt.

“H-gah-ahh-” Alhaitham’s movements stuttered, far too sensitive to be treated this way. “Fuck, Y/N, what are you -hah- doing to me…”

“Payback.” You lifted your head up from his chest to respond as you shifted your hips. Lining your entrance up with the head of his aching cock, you pushed yourself down and forced him inside you.

“Archons- oh fuck-” Alhaitham groaned as he felt himself penetrate you. You knew he was anything but a pious man, so to hear him call out to the Gods reassured you that you were doing something right. Alhaitham began to erratically move his hips as he tried to get any motion he could, only to cry out at a completely new sensation.

Your hand reached behind yourself to snake down between Alhaitham’s legs. Your slender fingers wrapped around his swollen balls, squeezing them hard enough to teeter on the boundary between pleasure and pain.

“Don’t even think about trying to take over.” You snapped, grinding your hips down as you dug your nails into his ever-so-sensitive skin.

“Fuck- Y/N, s-stop!” Alhaitham’s hands flew down to your hips. He held onto your plush skin with an iron grip, trying his best to hold you still, though you could feel his hands slightly trembling as he held you.

“Make me.” You sneered, squeezing his balls tighter.

With something halfway between a growl and a groan, Alhaitham bucked his hips hard. He threw you off of him and made you land on your back on the soft mattress. Before you had time to react he pinned you down, using one arm to hold both of your hands above your head and the other to hold one of your legs.

He pushed your knee against your chest as you squirmed, hating the way he so easily restrained you. However, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by the helpless feeling you had as he forced his cock into you once again.

You let out a pitiful moan as Alhaitham pounded into you, this time too angry, fed up, turned on to give you the mercy of holding back. The slapping sounds grew louder and louder as your aching pussy drooled from the penetration, sweat building on your skin from the vigorous sex.

“Why can’t you just shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Alhaitham grunted, thrusting into you, “and let me make you feel good?”

“Fucking bastard-” You groaned, his smug words infuriating you.

“Or is it that you prefer pain?” Alhaitham began to pick up his pace – his hips rammed into the plush of your ass harder and harder, until it became painful. Alhaitham’s abdomen strained as he forced himself into you over and over again, his cock splitting your walls apart as the thrusting of his hips made your entire body jolt in the bed.

“Ah! Ow- Fuck- fuck- it hurts, you asshole, it HURTS!” You cried, knowing your ass would certainly be bruised after this.

“I don’t think you deserve to complain after the stunt you just pulled.” Alhaitham spat, his breathing labored from how vigorously he was fucking you.

“F-Fuck you!” You screamed, winding your one free leg back and kicking him in the face with what little strength you had left.

Alhaitham recoiled, stunned by the blow to his face. The scribe let go of your body, withdrawing from your abused pussy. He looked down at you with an expression you had never seen before…

Was it… Anger?

“Remember that you fucking asked for this.”

Alhaitham moved fast, nearly pouncing on you as he pinned both your legs against your chest. He entered you again, this time with your body even more restricted, not allowing your legs any movement at all as he immediately began his previous pace.

At this angle, somehow, your pleasure felt even more amplified than before. Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham relentlessly pounded into you. The squelching sounds of his cock invading your drenched pussy, the way he stretched you so perfectly, the bullying of his tip deep within your walls drove you mad with pleasure.

“Nggh!- haah- oh fuck~” The snap of his hips against your already-bruising ass drove you mad with a disgusting mixture of pleasure and pain.

“It's so much better when you’re reduced to unintelligible noises.” Alhaitham grunted.

“Fucking… ass… Haah~”  You whined, but you weren’t able to do much more as your mouth hung open. Alhaitham savored the way your expression seemed vacuous, proof that he and he alone had successfully fucked you dumb.

Alhaitham slowed his thrusts almost completely, determined to torture and tease you until you were reduced to nothing. His length slid in and out of you slowly, and he could feel your swollen walls twitch and constrict from the sudden loss of friction.

However, Alhaitham wasn’t prepared for what you did next. He expected you to beg, to go insane, to promise to do anything just to come around his cock. The last thing he could ever foresee happening was for your face to return to normal, a devilish smirk growing across your lips.

“Fuck you.”

You spat out those words as you twisted your torso, one hand snaking around his back. Your legs shifted to wrap around Alhaitham’s torso as your fingers slipped into the cleft of his ass, making sure he was stuck there as you invaded his tight asshole.

“What are you- HEY!” Alhaitham exclaimed, prepared to force you away from him again, but completely caught off guard by the new sensation he felt.

“Wha- ngh! Ahn-” He groaned. You reveled in the way his face suddenly contorted with pleasure, making sure to ingrain this expression in your memory forever. Your smirk turned into a wicked grin as you pressed your forefinger further into his virgin ass.

The pleasure was foreign, but it was so intense that Alhaitham lost control of his limbs temporarily. He fell on top of you and you took this chance to wrap your legs around his torso, holding him in place as you began to pump the finger in and out of him.

“Haah- Y/N, wh-what is this-”

You cut Alhaitham off with another aggressive kiss, biting at his swollen and bloody lips as you drove him crazy with one single finger.

You could hear Alhaitham’s breathing become erratic as you continued, the scribe still unable to move due to the sheer volume of overstimulation. To make sure you truly drove him mad with pleasure, you added a second finger, probing further into his ass as you pumped in and out of him.

“Aahn~” Alhaitham broke from the kiss, his composure completely dissolving as he let out a whine. You’ve never seen him reduced to such a blubbering mess, and you made sure his whimpering and moaning would be etched into your memory permanently.

Alhaitham couldn’t hold up his head any longer – he rested his forehead in the crook of your neck, his shoulders shaking as he failed to prop himself up on his arms. You felt the full weight of Alhaitham’s body as he came undone from two fingers alone.

“No- fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!” You heard his voice crack while blubbering the mantra of curses as dick twitched and throbbed red-hot inside of you. You could feel his tight hole constrict around your fingers, making you pump into him harder as he whined. Your eyes went wide as you felt something warm spread across your walls. You withdrew both of your fingers from him, suddenly irate.

Alhaitham just came inside of you.

“Are you so incompetent that you just came inside of me?” You questioned, grabbing Alhaitham’s hair and pulling his head up so you could meet his eyes.

You stared for a moment at Alhaitham’s face – his eyes were unfocused, glazed over, a flush tinting his cheeks a deep red. There was a trail of saliva dripping from one corner of his mouth, his lips hanging open, along with smears of spit all over his chin as he tried his best to recover from what you had just done to him.

“Nghh…” Alhaitham groaned, his arms straining as he slowly picked himself off of you. “That’s what you get for invading my ass.”

“Hah!” You exclaimed, “I’m pretty sure you loved it.”

“Fuck you.” Alhaitham responded, his cognition reduced to vulgar insults after such intense stimulation.

“I’m pretty sure you just tried to do that.” You sneered. “You didn’t succeed, because the only person who came was you.”

Alhaitham merely growled, pushing himself off of you and withdrawing his half-hard dick from your pussy. It was coated in a sheen of white, a vulgar mixture of both your arousal and his cum. He grabbed your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin as he pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you onto your stomach. He lifted your hips into the air, his biceps flexing as he supported your body weight.

Alhaitham used one thumb to pull apart your swollen lips, admiring the sheen of your arousal and the clumps of cum that dripped from your entrance. At the thought of brutalizing your pussy and unloading inside of it, his dick was already hard again.

“What are you doing- Ahhhnnn~” Your eyes went wide as Alhaitham thrusted into you, starting at an aggressive pace that had you digging your elbows into the mattress for support. You had no control since your legs were dangling in the air off the edge of the bed, the ridiculous position only made possible by Alhaitham’s strength.

“Do you really think you can win,” Alhaitham  spoke, his voice mixing with the lewd slapping and squelching as he fucked you brutally, “when I’m stronger, I’m smarter, I’m better than you?

“Haaah~ you’re wrong-“ you gasped out, your head buried in the mattress as Alhaitham’s thrusts shook your body violently. “Aah- bastard!”

Alhaitham showed no signs of relenting as he burned with indignation. He couldn’t believe you had made him cum the way you did – it drove him to fuck you deeper, harder, to drive you insane with his cock. He ignored your whimpering and moaning, determined to teach you a lesson.

As he pummeled into you over and over, you could feel your abdomen tightening with pleasure. From this angle, he felt bigger and longer than before, and it was beginning to drive you insane. Each snap of his hips against your ass pushed you closer and closer to your climax, and you began to lose control of what you were saying as you approached the precipice of orgasm.

“Hnnn ‘Haitham… ‘so good…” You mumbled, your voice muffled from the way your head was pressed into the mattress.

“Hmm, what was that?” You heard Alhaitham speak smugly between the loud slapping of his thrusts.

“Screw you” You gave a breathless groan in response as you tried your best to hang onto reality despite being so close to orgasm. You were infuriated by how smug he was becoming even if not five minutes before he was in the exact same position. You were determined to not let him win in this competition.

However, a loud smack resounded through the room, followed by a whimper. Alhaitham had used one hand to land a harsh blow on your ass. He left behind a red handprint on your soft skin.

Alhaitham only smirked as he continued to fuck you; seeing the way your ass was in the air and your face was buried in the sheets seemed so perfect to him. He wanted to see you at his mercy, begging for his cock, calling his name over and over.

Thus, he pulled out of you suddenly, throwing your body back down onto the mattress. You rolled onto your back as you let out a whine from the sudden lack of stimulation and the harrowing sensation of emptiness within you.

“What? Wh-Why’d you stop, you asshole!” You shouted, glaring up at the narcissistic scholar.

“If you want to cum, you have to beg.” Alhaitham sneered. He got onto all fours above you, hands planted on either side of your head as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. You stared at him, half-expecting him to continue his brutal fucking despite what he had just said.

Instead, Alhaitham began to grind against your aching pussy. His thick length ran up and down your soaked slit, teasing your overly-sensitive clit.

“Hahhh… stop that!” You squirmed, but Alhaitham only ground against you harder. He dipped his head down, biting into the soft tissue of one breast, leaving a dark purple hickey as he withdrew.

“Beg.”

“Like hell I will!” You responded, trying to kick your legs only to realize Alhaihtam was hovering so low above you that you had no leverage when they were hooked over his shoulders like this. Alhaitham moved to another location, leaving a painfully dark hickey again.

“Ugh, stop it!” You reached your hands up, pulling at Alhaihtam’s hair to try to make him stop leaving hickeys.

Alhaitham’s lips parted from your chest with a popping sound, a string of saliva hanging from his lips as he reached one arm up and grabbed both of your hands. Pinning them above your head, he rocked his hips against you harder, making your back arch as you ached for him to fill you.

“Aagh!” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “Stop teasing me and just fuck me already!” 

“Hmm? What was that?” Alhaitham taunted, rolling his hips again, sending small jolts of pleasure shooting up your abdomen – but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you orgasm.

“I said, just fuck me already!” You groaned, your pussy clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate to be filled.

“Hmmm… I don’t like your tone.” Alhaihtam responded coolly, “I want you to beg.”

Another slow grind against your swollen lips left you panting.

“Haahh,” You blinked, trying your best to maintain composure, “fuck me… please.”

“Begging is really not a hard thing to do.” Alhaitham teased, “Are you really that bad at understanding such a simple direction?”

“Please fuck me.” You whimpered, your voice suddenly small.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Alhaitham pushed you further as he ground against you again. The motion drew a small whimper from your lips.

“P-please, I need your cock…” You whined as Alhaitham rolled his hips into you once more, “I need your cock inside of me…”

“Very well.” Alhaitham spoke bluntly, drawing his hips back and thrusting into you with force.

You let out a shrill scream as Alhaitham’s hips came to land against the plush of your ass. The stretch felt so good, the way he filled you so perfectly made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

However, Alhaitham came to a stop like that. He didn’t move any more, keeping his hips settled against your ass. Your eyes blinked open as you came back to your senses, and you realized Alhaitham was staring down at you with an infuriatingly smug expression on his face.

“If you want me to do anything more than this, you’ll have to be better at begging.”

“Ngh… No… Please, just fuck me already…” You whimpered, trying to move your hips to gain any sort of friction between his cock and your aching walls.

“I said beg.”

“Please, please I’ll do anything, just fuck me!” You exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes as you grew more and more desperate.

“If you really mean you’ll do anything,” Alhaitham’s voice dripped with gratification, “Then who’s cock do you want to fuck you?”

“Alhaitham’s cock, please, Alhaitham please fuck me! Please make me cum pleasepleaseplease-”

Alhaitham drew his hips back before sharply thrusting into you a single time, his hips colliding with your ass as a loud slap echoed through his bedroom. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you let out the most lewd and pitiful whine, your body shaking from how desperately you craved stimulation.

“Look at you, so desperate for the cock of a feeble scholar.” Alhaitham sneered, “If you want it so badly, you have to finally admit that I’m better than you.”

“Ngh, no-” You were cut off by another singular thrust, “haah- ngh…”

Alhaitham grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your throat. You moaned, somehow turned on by his painful grip on your hair.

“You’ll have to admit it if you want to cum. Trust me, I can wait all day... But I’m sure you wouldn’t like that.”

As Alhaitham spoke, he rolled his hips slightly, the tip of his dick pressing harder into your sensitive walls.

“Hahhh…” You sighed, your resolve finally breaking down. “You’re better, Alhaitham, you’re smarter and stronger and the only one who can make me-”

Alhaitham had finally heard what he was so eager to hear after all of these years. He finally let loose, allowing his desires to take over now that he won. He thrusted into you wildly, leaving all restraint in the back of his mind as he pummel into your sweet, submissive pussy.

You screamed as you finally received the stimulation you craved. Alhaitham went wild as he pounded into you, talking down to you now that your responses had devolved into lewd whimpers and screams.

“This is why the Sages chose me to retrieve the divine knowledge capsule and not you. Hahh, I’m surprised they even let you compete with me for the Auspicious knowledge capsule. You would have died at the hands of a Fatui Harbinger if it weren’t for my quick thinking… ngh…”

Alhaitham was getting far too turned on by talking down to you and hearing only garbled moans in response.

“Haaah, ‘Haitham!” You exclaimed, your eyes rolling back in your head as you grew closer and closer to orgasm. Your shouts rose into screams as Alhaitham continued to bully his quickly swelling cock into your aching and abused walls. “So good, so good, s’goo…” Your mind went blank from the pleasure as your mouth hung open, the sounds you made growing louder and louder.

“Ngh, shut up.” Alhaitham reached his free hand up to your neck, supporting his body weight on his elbows instead. He pulled harder on your hair as he squeezed your neck. He cut off your screams but at the same time stopped any access to air. Your mouth hung open silently, drool trailing from your swollen and bloody lips, your eyes going wide.

You finally, after hours of violently hateful sex, came at the mercy of your most hated rival.

And at that moment, you passed out.

Alhaitham could feel your walls convulse around his cock so tightly that his movements had to slow down – you were squeezing him so hard that it almost hurt. After a couple of seconds you suddenly went limp around him, your walls still twitching sporadically, and Alhaitham gave a few more sharp thrusts before pulling out of you and spraying his load over your chest and face.

The silver-haired scribe was panting hard as he slowly came down from his high. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it slick with sweat from so much physical exertion. He’d never had such intense sex in his life – even though his sex life was anything but bland.

He glanced down at your unconscious form sprawled out on the bed before him, your head twisted at an awkward angle and your legs splayed on either side of you as if they were putting your leaking pussy on display. He watched as a thick stream of cum slowly trailed out of your entrance, his gaze moving up to see the mottled red and purple marks he had made all over your skin.

After a couple of moments, Alhaitham snapped out of his daze as he was suddenly wracked with guilt. He leaned over you, reaching two fingers up to your neck, waiting breathlessly as he tried to find a heartbeat.

He shook his head as he finally found one, sighing to himself.

“I’m just being irrational. Of course I didn’t kill her.” He sighed, looking back and staring at your unconscious body. He drank in the marks on your skin, the slick that spilled out of you, proud that he was the only one to ever do this to you – who ever could do this to you.

For a moment, Alhaitham wanted to stay. He wanted to take care of you, to clean you up and hold you until he fell asleep. However, he quickly rid those thoughts from his head – he had a mission to complete.

Alhaitham slipped his pants and shirt back on, ignoring his disgustingly messy body as he began to walk out of the room. On the way out he picked up his cape, slinging it over his shoulder as he shut his bedroom door behind himself.

~~~

Kaveh was trying to figure out the best materials to use for the carpet of this foyer. He was an architect at heart, not an interior decorator – but this job paid well. The more jobs he took, the more he’d get paid, and then he’d finally be able to move out of Alhaitham’s hellish apartment.

The sounds of you and Alhaitham arguing grated against his ears, but he did his best to block them out – he felt bad for you. You were the same as Kaveh… you were also stuck living here, and you got just as infuriated as him by that damned scribe.

‘Stop it! Do you even care about leaving marks?’

Kaveh frowned, his head tilting to the side as he heard your shout come from the other room. He shook his head, deciding his brain was definitely in the gutter after what had happened between the three of you a week ago. There was certainly nothing lewd going on between the two of you… right?

‘Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.’

Kaveh’s eyes went wide. Alhaitham wasn’t really saying that to you, was he? Was this one of his perverse ways of giving compliments? Kaveh knew Alhaitham was bad at speaking to women, but he never expected something this bad to come from his mouth.

Then, he began to hear moans.

“That’s it, I’m taking more jobs so I can move out even faster!” Kaveh grumbled to himself, raking his fingers through his bangs as he tried his best to focus on the task at hand. “Ahh, yeah, the colors… which colors go best with ivory again…” He grumbled, talking out loud to try to drown out the very loud sexual behavior that had begun in the room next door.

However, when he began to hear the moans that came from Alhaitham, Kaveh dropped his pencil.

‘What are you- haaah~’

Kaveh couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants, and slowly slipped his fingers beneath his clothes to take care of the problem.

~~~

“Kaveh, I need a favor.”

The blonde jumped up from his desk, quickly adjusting his clothes before turning towards Alhaitham with a stern frown on his face.

“What is it, Alhaitham?” Kaveh couldn’t hide the venom that dripped from his voice. “You stink of sex, you mongrel.”

“Stop acting like you don’t have ears, Kaveh.” Alhaitham retorted. “And stop acting like you weren’t enjoying yourself just now, either.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened with shock and indignation.

“Why you-”

“I need you to make sure Y/N stays here while I travel to Port Ormos.” Alhaitham sternly cut off his blonde roommate. “It’s not safe for her there. Last time she nearly got killed, and I can’t have her endangering herself again.”

Kaveh’s brows pinched together with confusion.

“Is it another one of those missions the Sages send you on? Don’t they usually send the both of you on the same mission?”

“It’s highly classified information.” Alhaitham responded bluntly. “But yes – I personally asked them not to send her on these missions anymore. I assured them that I would be enough.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not going to like this when she finds out-”

“That’s why I’m leaving now. I plan to be long gone by the time she realizes.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off once again. “And that’s why you have to do anything in your power to stop her from leaving the house.”

“I- what?” Kaveh questioned. “And you’re going to leave while smelling this foul?”

“That’s none of your business.” Alhaitham responded. “I’m entrusting her to you.”

The scribe merely walked away, as if Kaveh had already agreed to do such a heinous thing as keep you locked indoors for days on end.

Kaveh threw down his blueprints in anger, infuriated by the borderline unlivable environment of Alhaitham’s house. Then, he realized he had a deadline to meet, and awkwardly scrambled to pick back up his papers and opted to carry them out to the living room to finish them up in a different setting.

After about an hour, Kaveh was enjoying a hot cup of tea as he finished up another section of his commission. He heard the creak of a door opening – you were finally emerging from Alhaitham’s bedroom. Kaveh continued to scribble one last thing down with his free hand as he spoke to you.

“Good, you’re finally awake. Do you want some tea? I just brewed-”

Kaveh stopped mid-sentence as he looked up to see the state of you. His eyes went wide as he saw your messy hair, your bloody lips, and the purplish blotches of the hickeys Alhaitham had left all over your once-pristine skin. You were clinging to a bed sheet that you had loosely wrapped around your torso, your posture hunched over as if you were in pain.

“Archons, Y/N, you look like hel-”

“Where’s Alhaitham.” Your tone dripped with hatred.

“He’s gone.” Kaveh responded.

“He’s what?” Your eyes went wide. “I need to go after him.” You glanced around the living room.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave the house.” Kaveh responded.

“What?” You questioned, confused.

“Alhaitham said that if I let you leave the house, you’ll just go after him and endanger your life again.”

“Grrr, that BASTARD!” You exclaimed, spinning around and storming back into his bedroom, slamming the door shut so violently that it rattled the plates in the kitchen cupboards.

Kaveh let out a sigh of relief despite being seriously worried about the state of your body.

“At least she’s not trying to leave.” He sighed, trying his best to continue working on the paperwork.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 019: The Piggyback

If you had the chance to do it over again with Eddie — and DO IT RIGHT — would you?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* * = somewhat smut , ** = smut

CW: hospital setting, dialogue heavy, uncertainty, fluff, talks of blood/broken bones/etc., car accident implications

word count: 2.5k words

“I’ll pick up these broken pieces ‘til I’m bleeding, if that’ll make it right.”

♡

Hawkins Memorial Hospital reeks of bleach wipes and bitter tears.

“Eddie…” Dustin wails. “No no no, noooo. Eddie…”

You’re sitting on the floor of the nurses station with Robin, Steve, and Nancy while the ‘kiddos’ occupy the waiting chairs. Surely, it's got to be unsanitary, but contracting germs off the floor of the ICU were the least of your concerns.

Your eyes follow Wayne as he helplessly wheels around, talking to anyone who would lend him an ear... anyone who would possibly know anything about his nephew’s condition.

“And my nephew — Eddie — he's self-employed,” Wayne continues to tell them.

Wheeling…wheeling…wheeling…

“But the Program he’s with allows him to go through Scott Clarke. You know Scott Clarke Insurance? It’s S-c-o-t-t, C-l-a-r-k-e… I’m through them too…”

But the able-bodied personnel are too fast for old Wayne, walking at a speed about 5mph while his frail fingers can only allow him up to 2 and a half. Just like the liters of oxygen he is on.

“Does he have a case manager assigned to him yet?” Wayne wonders. “If so I would like their name, please.”

Eventually Wayne’s voice fades the further away he gets. And just so you don't wallow in your misery, you go to your phone to see if anyone else has been reaching out to you for updates.

Justice (Hellfire)

Omg just heard the news! Hey girlie, is Eddie ok??? Can we come see him yet??

Just as you expected. Annoyed, you respond.

Girl fuck you

Suddenly a hand squeezes your kneecap. You didn't realize how aggressively you were tapping your feet until Max stops you.

“Doing okay, sis?”

“Yeah I'm just...” you sigh. “…going through all the emotions I guess. And in a fucked up way, I'm kinda convinced this is all my fault."

“You're a dumbass," she scowls at you. "How could you have possibly seen this coming? This was not in anyone’s control."

“I broke the rule,” is all you say. “We never go to bed angry.”

The odds have always been against you. You would think you knew that by now. It was probably why you spent all morning beating yourself up; because you knew that if you did, there's a huge possibility that Eddie would pull through. The Universe is twisted like that.

Suddenly, a pair of white coats are seen coming out of Eddie's room. Everybody in the party immediately stands, like it's some formation exercise at a bootcamp of sorts. Wayne eventually circles back as well, gazing up at Dr. Owens with hopeful eyes.

“Eddie is going to be okay,” Owens concludes. “You can all breathe now.”

The room fills with bone-weary, but nonetheless celebratory cheers. Owens and Eddie's nurse, Nurse Patty allows everybody to hug one another in relief. Eddie's doctor goes to speak again when the clamor dies down.

“But he did have to undergo emergency surgery,” Dr. Owens adds. “And he lost a lot of blood, so we have him on additional transfusions, as well as an antibiotic for an infection caused by his wounds. The plan for him is to recover, hopefully get him up with therapy when the time is right, and then he can get out of here.”

“Can we see him?” your voice cracks.

“That is up to him," the doctor responds. "But for now, what the young man told me is that he wants chocolate pudding... and to see his Uncle and girlfriend."

You and Wayne waste no time. Unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair, you lug Eddie's uncle into ICU room #010, unsure of what is to greet you behind the curtains.

The room is littered with juice and jello, laced by an overpowering bleach-esque fragrance that most likely was there to mask the innate smell of blood and other bodily fluids.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the familiar IV machine. And funny enough, Eddie has his TV on, blasting South Park on full volume, exactly the way it normally would be playing at the Harrington-Munson estate.

"…tell everyone the truth about whose fault this is! I didn't do anything!" ... "...you KNEW about the prank, you could've stopped it at any time, but you didn't say a word. SILENCE IS VIOLENCE!"

And there is Eddie, dressed in a mesh-fabric gauze bandana, a worn-out beige hospital gown, with matching grippy socks. His entire lower lip is busted, left arm in a cast, both of his heels elevated with blood-saturated pillows. And his hair... you didn't even want to think about the matting. But that is ground to be covered much later.

When Eddie sees the two of you, he only utters one sentence:

“Does this mean I finally get that motorcycle?”

“You fucking idiot!” you wail going in to hug him.

Eddie chuckles solemnly as you completely fall into his embrace, soaking his gown with your salty tears.

"I thought we lost you, Eddie,” you whisper in his ear as you sniff your tears away. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did...knowing what I said."

He strokes your hair. "You have every right to be mad at me. I've been such a shitty boyfriend to you."

“I second that,” Wayne huffs, crossing his arms. “The idiot part, I mean… but I’m glad you’re okay, son.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles. “I knew those Eddie Stops would catch up to me one day.”

Eventually, the rest of the party spills in, starting with the batallion of younger Hellfire boys who were inconsolable all morning, absolutely petrified of losing their role-model.

"Jesus,” Dustin breathes. “We thought you were a-goner!”

"Hey guys, good to see ya," Eddie grins, soaking up every bit of attention from his little minions as they all pile on top of him. Suddenly, he flinches. "Hey hey hey, watch my IVs! I've got an important med running through that piggyback."

"Right, sorry," they all utter in unison as they separate themselves from him.

Steve is next in line to give Eddie a hug, followed by Robin, and Nancy, and soon Jonathan. Chrissy and Argyle are the next people to trail in, with Henry and Nina at their tail. Then, the Corroded Coffin boys soon after.

"Eddie, oh my god!" Chrissy cries. "Don't you ever scare any of us like that again!"

"Good to see ya, Chris," Eddie smiles, giving her a one-armed hug. "Hey Neens! Creel! Villalobos. Boys.”

"So not cool man," Argyle shakes his head. "So not cool. We were worried sick for you."

As you all iron out the details, it is discovered that Eddie got into the accident shortly after leaving your place. He, in fact did, pull an Eddie Stop, failing to see the car coming at him from his left side, which then resulted in him getting T-boned. The other driver was okay. In fact, he was the one who called the ambulance for him.

"How much longer until you're discharged?" Nancy asks.

"I'm not too sure," Eddie sighs. "Hopefully in a few weeks."

He fails to sit up completely, wincing once again when his pain drags him down. Everybody nearly rushes to his aid, tenderly lowering Eddie back onto the bed while encouraging him to take it easy.

"Don't even worry about it, Eds," Lucas assures him. "We can hold down the fort."

"Oh that's reassuring," Eddie mutters sarcastically, shaking his head in discontent.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing!"

---

You decide to stay with Eddie for the afternoon while everyone else goes home. A couple others stay behind as well, so you all take turns alternating, helping the nurses with their care and making sure Eddie isn't alone when a specialist from his team comes to see him.

But for now, it's just you and him, cuddled up in his rather stiff hospital bed, watching TV to pass time by.

"It feels weird sitting in place for once," he comments. "My body isn't used to laying down for a long period of time."

"Constantly in fight or flight, huh?" you tut. "Always on the go..."

Eddie whistles. "God, you have no idea..."

"Nah, I do," you insist, grabbing his hand to kiss it. "Our flights just look a lil different is all."

Suddenly, your phone rings again, causing both you and Eddie to jolt in shock. This time, it's your FaceTime ringtone... and on the other line, is Kassidy, quite possibly accompanied by the other Hellfire Girls.

"Jesus H. Christ," you mumble. "They've been spamming me all morning. Probably just wanna know how you're doing."

"Answer it," Eddie encourages you sharply. His tone is rather gruff, and urgent. "I need to talk to them."

Because you're nice enough to allow the girls the luxury of knowing their lord and savior is alive, you answer the call and hand your phone to Eddie. There's a slight pause before the call is connected.

"Hi," is all Eddie says.

"Eddie! OMG!" the girls squeal through the other line, of course all while failing to acknowledge you — the person whose number they called in the first place. "Are you okay?!"

"Yes girls, I'm fine..." he sighs. "How's Hellfire? Everyone holding down the fort?"

"Of course, just like we do best," Kassidy responds. "We just miss you, Eddie. What happened?"

"Got T-boned."

"OMG, whose fault was it?"

"Mine," he seems relatively short with them.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in a little bit of pain. But I got some pain meds to help me."

"Thank God!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hospital walls, Nina and Chrissy stare at each other in bewilderment, a look that is naturally followed by one of disgust.

"Oh I know damn well..." Nina shakes her head.

"Stupid ass bitches," Chrissy adds.

Being the nosy girls they are, Nina and Chrissy crane their heads over into the room, eavesdropping on the FaceTime conversation between Eddie and the Hellfire Girls.

"Oh Eddie," Emmy pouts. "We're so glad that you're doing okay."

"Yeah, Eddie!" Lady chirps. "When do you think you'll be released?"

"Hopefully I'll be out in about two weeks," Eddie responds. "But I'll stay at home for a bit before coming back. You won't even know I'm gone."

The girls cheer obnoxiously on the other line. You try to act indifferent towards everything for Eddie's sake, but it's hard for you to feign something that so evidently isn't true.

Eddie senses it. And what he says next to the girls takes you by surprise.

"...But," Eddie says. "In that same amount of time, I expect your lockers to be cleared... as well as your side of the dressing room."

There's a brief silence while the girls try to piece together what Eddie means by that. Because surely it doesn't mean what they initially thought it meant.

"Why? Are we getting moved?"

"No, you're all getting terminated."

So it was exactly what they thought it meant.

"Wh-what? Why?!"

"What do you mean why?" Eddie demands.

He begins to list off everything they have done wrong, all of which they pretended to be oblivious about until now.

"The final straw is calling my girlfriend's phone, non-stop, knowing that's the only way to get through to me," Eddie goes on. "And not even acknowledging her! And even if you did, you all have some damn nerve considering what you guys did at Hellfire."

"You don't even have proof of us damaging her property though!" Justice argues. "So for all we know, you're just accusing us of things, Eddie."

"That's funny," you speak up. "Who said anything about property damage?"

Caught in their own trap.

The MAIN reason Eddie couldn't fire the Hellfire Girls when they put sugar in your gas tank was because you didn't have any proof that they did it, therefore it wouldn't hold up well if the girls decided to sue for wrongful termination. Again, lots of legalities to come in to play.

The girls were smart though. Choosing to wreck your car because they knew it was parked in the security camera's blindspot. Essentially, after the damage was done, it would be your word against theirs. And there was only so much that Eddie could do with the "subtle jabs". But now that you have a confession, Eddie can work off of that.

"But Eddie!" Justice whines. "This is so unfair. We've known you, and been at Hellfire longer than she has."

"Two weeks," Eddie reiterates, still firm on his decision. "That's enough time for you ladies to figure out the next step. I wish you the best of luck."

The ending of the FaceTime call wasn't a pretty one. It mainly consisted of denying and bargaining, all of which Eddie did not have the energy to be receptive to.

You and Eddie continue to hash it out with the girls over the phone, all while Nina and Chrissy were twerking in celebration because it meant more money for them during tip outs. And most importantly, celebrating you getting the justice you deserve...along with the possibility of you coming back.

"That was something I should've done way long ago," Eddie sighs as he hands you your phone back. "I hate dealing with legal shit."

"I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible," you frown.

"And I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible to you," Eddie counters. "I really wish I could've done more for you. But up until now my hands were tied legally, honey. And financially."

"It was a sticky situation," you mutter. "But...I knew you had a favorite."

He kisses your forehead once more and you lean into him again, resting your head against his chest and wrapping your leg around his torso.

"Ow, ow, OW!" Eddie yelps.

"Sorry!"

You asunder again.

"You think you're gonna find enough dancers in time?" you ask him.

"We'll be okay four dancers short," Eddie assures you. "And besides, more tips for the other ladies when it comes down to tip-outs. They did Hellfire a favor."

Exactly what Chrissy and Nina were thinking.

"Speaking of Hellfire..." Eddie quips. "Does this mean you're coming back?"

"Only if I'm still welcome."

"Of course you are, babe," Eddie chuckles. "Everyone there loves you."

Your heart flutters at the forsaken "L" word, uttered with so much certainty and fondness.

"...including me," Eddie adds. "I love you, man."

You bite your lip to contain your excitement as you blush, giving Eddie a light punch across his chest.

"I love you too...man."

And as a way to poke fun at you, Eddie flashes you a "surf's up" sign with his non-crippled fingers. He puts on his most pretentious California accent possible, one he learned how to do from Argyle.

"Righteous...man."

And before it could get any more intimate, Chrissy makes her way into the room, reaching into her tote bag to give you something she's been holding onto since she arrived.

You watch as she unveils a familiar velvet garment — your cloak. She gives you a courtly bow as she hands it back over to you, symbolizing an end to your very brief retirement from Hellfire, and a permanent seat at The Party's table.

"You know Hargrove, I believe..." says Chrissy. "...that this is for you."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins @feral-pumpkin-energy @bl0ssomanddie

[eyeheartboobiez]

-> 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!

-> 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 (𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 ) 𝖾𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖡𝗋𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.

-> 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇🫶🏿

Gotham royalty, Dick Grayson, caught with actress Y/N Y/LN behind the scenes of upcoming movie (3/5/2023 1:52 PM)

For months now, fans have been questioning the mysterious relationship between Dick Grayson and Hollywood’s favorite star, Y/N Y/LN. While this may come as a surprise to some, for most of us, it was kind of expected.

Just this morning, the two were seen outside of the actress's trailer on the set of her upcoming movie. The young actress, most notable for her acclaimed EGOT status, is using the feature film to officially bring and end to her acting hiatus.

For a little over three years now, Y/N has practically shut herself out from the public eye, wanting to take care of personal matters in her life. Insiders report that regardless of her "mysterious health condition", she's back and better than ever!

And of course, despite most of the filming taking place in the heart of New York, the gothamite had no trouble traveling to to visit her on set. Paparazzi spotted the apparent couple looking closer than usual just as Dick was seen leaving her trailer.

Throughout the years, both celebrities have been stuck in the classic "will they, won't they" situationship. We can easily take a quick look at the history of the two when they were introduced to each other through their mutual friend, Kori Anders.

Kori, who also happens to be co-starring in the same film as Y/LN, has noted in the past how much she would love for both friends to get together, saying that:

"I know most people usually don't want their besties to date each other, but I actually wouldn't mind. Dick is a good guy, and he's the kind of guy that Y/N could really use right now..."

On the other hand, Y/N has made it clear in the past that she's not looking for a relationship, wanting to focus on her son, Jonathan, instead. After getting pregnant by her ex (who ended up cheating on her, ouch!), the actress tried to keep her life as private as possible.

Dick, on the other hand, absolutely adores Y/N and her son! Over the course of their decade long friendship, the billionaire has proven to be a prominent figure in the child's life. Even this past March, the eldest Wayne flew both the mother and her little five year old out of the country to vacation with him in Italy.

Even though the celebs constantly try to deny any dating rumors, the proof is in the pudding now! No matter how much they try to defend their so called "friendship", we can't help but love the way they love.

suggested for you!

liked by @rred_hood, @wildwallywest, and 3,318,045 others

@bigdickgrayson: Welp I guess the secret's out. These past few years have been some of the best years of my life all thanks to the little family I get to call my own. After getting married, I get to call myself a dad to not only my son Johnny, but to my beautiful baby girl Mari as well. Of course, while Johnathan may not be mine by blood, I still love him and his sister as my own. After practically raising him alongside my beautiful wife, there's nothing else I would see him as. These people here are the light of my life and I am forever greatful for it. Love you Y/NN❤️

View all 14,045 comments

user1: THERE'S TWO???

⤷ user2: no actually since when was there a second one🧍‍♀️

user3: ahh the babies are too cute!!

user4: he's not a step father he's the father that stepped UP

@y/nofficial: 🩵

⤷ @bigdickgayson: 💙

⤷ user5: CRWING SCREAMING SOBBING

⤷ user6: when is it my turn bro PLEASE

user7: congra😭tula😭tions😭😭

user8: my royal family fr🫶

liked by @spacedoutkori and 3,289,260 others

@y/nofficial: my lil yeah <3

View all 13,819 comments

user1: fym "lil yeah" girl yall are MARRIED

user2: WAR IS OVERRR

user3: im so happy for you mamas <3

user4: i like how dick wrote a whole essay while miss girl is out here giving us scraps😭

⤷ user5: bro she will NAWT hesitate to deactivate her entire account go get a straw and suck it up abeg

user6: still can't wrap my head around the fact that she hid a whole ass baby right under our noses💀

@bigdickgrayson: 💙

⤷ @y/nofficial: 🩵

⤷ user7: somebody catchme.... imma pass out..

user8: the true people's princess🥹

notice how i used e news for dick and tmz for jason because it matches their color scheme👀 also ty abby for giving me the idea to give them two kids instead of one ily foreva and eva

[shaggy-dog12]

☆THANKSGIVING SURPRISE☆

John Price X Reader

A little bit of spice?) But mostly just fluff and wholesome time with fictional family and Price. Use of "Y/N" 1 or 2 times (and of course, the Macy's parade)

(Family members are given names already, you can always change the names up if you'd like, just thought this would be easier for me.)

Smells wafted out of the kitchen, pouring into the house. Scents of sage, thyme, apple, pumpkin, and most importantly, turkey. You stand in the kitchen, apron tied around your waist as you roll the dough for the homemade noodles out on the island counter, cutting them in thin lines so they won't be too long or thick. The front door opens, and your mother and father step into the living room, kicking their shoes off next to the fall themed welcome mat and walking into the kitchen. "Hey, hun." Your father walks over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He walks over to the sink, washing his hands and joining you. Helping you to roll out the dough and cut the noodles. Your mother sets down the apple dumplings, sweet potato casserole ,and her famous corn pudding. Your mother turns to you, giving you a smile. The corner of her eyes crinkled, showing off her wrinkles. But she still looked quite young for her age. "Have you heard anything from John, sweetie?" Your lips swiftly curl into a slight frown, "Yeah…He said he won't be able to make it back for Thanksgiving.. said something about a botched mission.." A soft, defeated sigh escapes your lips as you throw the noodles into the now boiling water on the stove. You hear your father mutter, but don't catch what he said. "Really? That's not what I hea-" Your father was quickly cut off, your mother jabbing him in the gut. He was about to scold her, but the glare she gave him quickly shut him up, he clears his throat and went back to making more noodles. Throwing them into the pot with the rest of the noodles. The front door opens again, two brunettes, one 5 (male) and one 8 (female) run into the kitchen. Hugging your mom and dad, soon turning to you, hugging your leg, and waist as they beam up at you. "Max, Lexi!" You smile and bend down, placing a kiss on the crown of their heads. Their mother (your sister-in-law) walks into the kitchen with a platter of fruits and vegetables in hand. "Max, Lexi. Get out of the kitchen. We can't have you guys here in the adults's way." Max and Lexi pout, running out of the kitchen and into the living room. Turning on the TV, switching the channel to the Macy's Parade. You laugh. "Hi Beth." Beth turns to you, greeting you as she walks over. "Need help with anything?"Yeah, could you start mashing up the potatoes, and when William gets in here, tell him to start snapping the end of the green beans off. Beth nods and starts mashing up the potatoes, William soon joining to help out while Lexi and Max enjoy the parade. Twenty minutes pass, and the rest of the family shows up. The island and counters filled with desserts, appetizers, and main courses. The children sit around the kids' table, happily chowing down. The adults sit along a long, rectangular shaped table, eating and some sipping on wines and beer. "Y/N, could you get another bottle of Pinot noir? We've run empty on this bottle." Your mother looks at you, holding up the now empty bottle of Pinot noir. "Yeah, does anyone want another beer or another type of wine?" William chimes in, holding up his empty can of Bud Light. You give a quick nod walking into the kitchen, throwing away the empty can of Bud light and Pinot noir, walking over to the fridge you grab a Bud light out of the fridge, placing it on the counter, then walking over to the wine rack. Reaching for another bottle and corkscrew opener. Stabbing the opener into the cork and twisting it, pulling the cork out. Before you could turn around, two callused hands are placed upon your waist, turning you around. Your eyes widen as you look.

John…

A scream of sheer glee escapes you, jumping into John's arms. A shocked gasp escapes John's lips as he quickly hoists you up, wrapping his arms under your legs as your arms wrap around his neck. A toothy smile plastered on his face as he leaned in, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, John walked over to an empty space on the counter. Placing you down, resting his left hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss and his right hand on your thigh, slowly sliding up your shirt. A low groan escapes John's lips. Pure bliss taking over the both of you. John's hand runs up and down your side and kisses your jaw and neck. A giggle escapes your lips due to John's beard tickling your neck. "John.. Don't you think we should wait until later?" You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing slightly so he'd look up at you. John chuckles and kisses your cheek. "I suppose so, love. Wouldn't want anyone to walk in on us." Price backs away, helping you off the counter, embracing you. "I thought you said you wouldn't be able to come back for Thanksgiving. What's with the sudden change?" Price brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Oh, no love. I only said that because I wanted to surprise you. I even told your Mom and Dad that I wanted to surprise you. They knew of this plan before I was even cleared to leave." Price placed more tender kisses on your face. "Well, you can consider me throughly surprised John. Now make yourself a plate and eat with us!" John smiled warmly, making himself a plate of food and sitting next to you at the table, chatting away.

You had to admit. It was quite a nice surprise.

[beanghostprincess]

Since you love sapphic crack pairing, I now may introduce you to one that you've never ever heard of of, and I can guarantee that is pure crack.

Hear me out:

CamiexPudding

...

IT ACTUALLY WORKS! Its stylistxmodel, Bean. STYLISTXMODEL.

You can have Pudding be insecure about her looks and Camie goes "such nonsense, you're so pretty!<3" so Pudding collapses and Camie freaks out. Camie can finally make Pudding some clothes that she actually choose herself and likes while having some stability and confort.

They are like:

Pudding: She asked for NO PICKELS!

Camie: Pudding, its a seaweed salad...

You can tie it with the whole "Pudding, Perona and Uta become the Cross Guild's princesses" thing. Like, I dunno. Camie gets kidnapped again, this time by Blackbeard, and befriends Pudding in prison. They get saved by Buggy and co. And Pudding is like "You have to let my bring my girlfriend too OR ELSE!"

And Buggy agrees because 1) He coukd never break young love appart 2) Now he has somebody to make him flashy outfits for him. Yay! (But seriously tho, that kite cosplay has got to go)

So that brings the count of sapphics couples in Cross Guild to 2! (After perouta of course)

And late at night, when Pudding is having nightmares, she can always count on the fact that she will always have her 197cm mermaid girlfriend by her side.

This is just adorable,, 😭🩷💚

Camie would be so so so so sweet to Pudding and give her all the love and attention and care she deserves! I think she'd find her fascinatingly beautiful and would want to make clothes for her all the time!!! And Pudding would feel so loved and appreciated and gorgeous for the first time. She doesn't realize she has been dressing the way her mother told her for... So long... And thanks to Camie now she can find a whole new style that makes her feel like herself!

Besides, stylist x model is just such an incredible dynamic in general!! Camie being so so close to Pudding to fix her clothes and Pudding physically being unable to handle her cuteness,,, And Camie, of course, being completely clueless when it comes to Pudding's crush on her but crushing just as hard, being happy that they're friends at all.

Also both of them being kidnapped together is so funny because Pudding is extremely furious and Camie is angry too but she's like- At this point she's used to it and just waiting for the Strawhats or somebody to rescue her because she believes in her good luck wholeheartedly. And Camie is like "hehe first time?" and Pudding squints her eyes at her like "???? what do you mean FIRST TIME???".

But!!! But Cross Guild saves Pudding and she demands Camie to be saved too because that's her best friend now and also she's the cutest girl. She can't leave her there-- Buggy accepts because why the hell would he give a fuck? He's already making an effort to save Pudding, might as well help the other girl too. And now Cross Guild has a stylist making cute little super badass outfits for everyone! Camie, Pudding, Perona, and Uta having the most chaotic girl nights!!! I imagine Pudding and Uta coming up with the darkest of schemes and themes and Camie and Perona in the background like "they're craycrazy but we love them".

Whenever Pudding is feeling sad, conflicted, or having nightmares, Camie is there to help her out. She's just so genuine and sweet to her that Pudding can't help but fall for her kindness. And Pudding decides that now her life mission is to protect her and she will do all she can to make sure Camie is safe and has the best life!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Dream and Fantasy & Handholding - Thingol x Finwë

Dear @the-red-butterfly, my friend, my partner in pairing crime...I dedicate this abomination to you!

This is further proof that I have no OCs, they're just knock-off, 2 penny depictions of people I know and love.

I give you...Old, decrepit men! Have fun!

Words: 1 065

Characters: Thingol x Finwë

Warnings: Geriatric grouches, barely veiled OCs, pudding, hint of bittersweet, innuendo to sex in the winter of life...

The middle-aged, chain-smoking nurse, lovingly called L at work, walked into the “quiet room” briskly, her eyes sweeping mercilessly across the softly bobbing ocean of hairless pates in search of the two most contrary residents of the retirement home.

After lunch, the inhabitants of the renowned facility came here to have a little chat before inevitably nodding off for their daily afternoon nap. Evidently, they could not be left alone—lest they choke on their own tongues or fall out of their ergonomic, cushioned chairs to their demise—so she knew that her favourite co-worker couldn’t be too far.

“Abril?” she called softly, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as soon as her cheery young colleague appeared with a tray full of tiny pudding cups.

“Yes?” the youthful woman chirped in her melodious, soothing voice that had earned her the privilege of handing out gelatinous treats rather than wrestling wayward doters back into their rooms.

“Where are the two pests? Are they in time-out again?” the older nurse asked gruffly.

“Oh, leave them be. They really are so sweet, aren’t they? And they’re such great friends too,” Abril protested in a hushed tone, quick as ever to defend their resident troublemakers.

“They’re more than friends,” the other retorted not without a hint of humour. “I’m pretty sure that what they do beneath the table when playing bridge goes beyond your usual run-of-the-mill cheating, if you know what I mean…”

“You’re filthy,” Abril complained, balancing her tray on her shapely hip to gesticulate expressively, thus leaving no doubt as to her mild disapproval. “They’re just old men! And they’re so lonely!”

Remembering her colleague’s initial inquiry, she frowned, her gorgeous face the very picture of doleful commiseration.

“The holidays are coming up, and Thingol had a bad dream about…”

They nodded in wordless agreement. It was a well-known fact that Thingol had fathered but a single girl-child who had promptly decided to move with her strange husband to some remote spot at the end of the world.

Nobody here had ever laid eyes on the woman, but they’d all seen pictures of Lúthien whose beauty was, as Thingol never tired of repeating, paralleled only by the pulchritude of his wife who had chosen not to follow him into his assisted living arrangements.

As far as L could remember, the old curmudgeon had always shared his room, board games, and pudding with a similarly distraught old man who seemed cursed by the very opposite problem.

Indeed, Finwë had one too many descendants. Having been married twice, he’d fathered one irascible son with his first wife as well as two sons and two daughters with his second who had, in turn, brought forth a whole slew of legitimate grandchildren and great-grandchildren, as well as a few more obscure scions claimed through strange patchwork-family situations.

The chaos these complex interpersonal relationships—ranging from outright, murderous loathing to deepfelt adoration—between the different members of that sprawling family tree bred was indubitably enough to drive any wretched bugger mad.

This was even more severe for poor Finwë because Thingol, his partner in geriatric crime, didn’t exactly get along well with his various kinspeople.

It was a surprisingly tense and fraught situation, a riveting drama playing out against the calming, beige background of an idyllic nursing home.

“Finwë took him to their room. Be a dear and take them their pudding; they love it so!” Abril said, jerking her chin at the tray encouragingly.

“Sure thing,” L sighed. “We wouldn’t want them to go raiding one of the other peaceful old souls. They’re owed pudding, and pudding they shall have!”

Abril’s eyebrows twitched, but she was too polite to ever laugh at a badly executed impression of her beloved favourites openly. “Just take them their treat—they’ve been very good today. No forks were thrown, and Ingwë was so unfazed by them that he didn’t even try to scoot across the room with his chair!”

Resigned to her fate, the cantankerous caretaker took the proffered desserts and trudged out of the room.

Neither one of the two old sourpusses could be heard from outside their chamber, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

As she was alone and nobody was around to witness the slip of her mask of dispassionate professionalism, she leaned her puckered brow against the smooth wood in a silent admission of reluctant sympathy.

Between Thingol’s loneliness and Finwë’s overabundance of ranting and raving offspring, they were a much put-upon pair who would not know a moment of peace before the last deliverance was granted to their unrestful souls.

Steeling herself, L pushed open the door slowly and, at once, had to bite back a sigh.

They sat, hand in hand, in their armchairs by the window, looking inward onto their dreams and fantasies rather than observing the squirrels frolicking across the front lawn.

One was never sure whether they were really asleep, and L slipped into the room cautiously, knowing only too well with what startling abruptness old men could shake themselves awake as if afraid of the long sleep that would not release them ever again.

At this moment, though, their faces—muted echoes of a faded beauty that certainly had been galvanising and terrifying to behold—were serene and relaxed, and their fingers were intertwined in a knot of papery skin and gnarled bone.

Against her better knowledge, L found that there was a touching, delicate sweetness in this ephemeral semblance of tranquillity they had caught like elusive butterflies in their clawed hands.

“Good old boys,” she whispered, prying open the small fridge in the corner and stowing the sweet treats away for later.

Yes, they were troublemakers, and their endless whining and complaining about children they had raised to be just as insufferable as them was exhausting, but L couldn’t deny that she understood Abril a little better now, watching them.

Thingol whimpered softly in his sleep, and—at once—Finwë’s creaking fingers tightened around his cold hand.

L fussed briefly with their blankets before leaving as inaudibly as she’d come.

“They’re all right,” she reassured Abril when her colleague walked briskly towards her, empty tray swinging inquisitively at her side. “They’re resting. Maybe, we could let them have dinner in their room tonight?”

“Ah!” the young woman cackled, her eyes bright with triumph. “They’ve at last won your heart!”

@fellowshipofthefics here's another cute one!

Have an abomination for your pleasure!

Lots of love and well-wishes!

-> Masterlist

[haggishlyhagging]

Like any other kind of PUD [Patriarchal Universe of Discourse] description, agentless passives claim to be accurate statements about events in the world. More frequently they tell us the conceptual framework within which speakers perceive and comprehend actions, people, and events. A line from one of George Michael's hit songs illustrates how an agentless passive reveals the speaker's perspective.

9.5 "Sometimes love can be mistaken for a crime."

In this example, the male perspective dictated even the choice of the direct and indirect objects: love is the direct object of mistake, crime the indirect object. There is no agent. Because the description occurs in a song about a man wanting to be some woman's "father figure," crime hints at rape or incest, and tells listeners, many of them girls and young women, that describing forced heterosexuality as "a crime" is a "mistake." If we accept the proposition as a true and accurate description of what forced heterosexuality means, we come to believe such false descriptions, remaining unconsciously loyal to them even when we consciously reject them.

In PUD, agentless passives conceal and deceive when it doesn't suit speakers' or writers' purposes to make agency explicit. This simple structure makes it easy to suppress responsibility and forces hearers or readers to supply the missing agents from a range of possibilities that is often too broad. These less-than-honest motivations for agent-deletion fall into several rhetorical categories: (1) appeals to various kinds of authority as defined by male societies; (2) protection of the guilty and denial of responsibility; (3) the pretense of objectivity; (4) laziness, ignorance, or intellectual pretension, based on familiarity with motivation; (5) the victim's stance; (6) exhortation (urging an audience to some action); and, (7) trivialization. . . .

Agentless passives hinder readers from inquiring further into the implied authority behind questionable declarations. Any sentence that begins with it as the topic of a truncated passive, such as "It is known," "It is hypothesized," "It is understood," should be a signal to us that whatever follows is something we don't want to file away without careful, thorough examination. Whenever someone says, speaking about a relationship, "It's meant to be," as though an omniscient deity or personified destiny had nothing better to do than monitor our lives and make our choices for us, we have to wonder WHO intends for this relationship to exist or continue? Questioning such fundamentally empty assertions is unlikely to increase our popularity, and we run the risk of alienating those we dare to challenge, but people will persist in mouthing inanities unless (and until) each of us takes responsibility for improving the substance and quality of our talk, however casual it is.

-Julia Penelope, Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues

[kpopjust4u]

24 days of Advent, 24 days of Kinkmas

Posted: 1st - 24th December

Genre: Smut (Minors DNI) - Under the Cut

Warnings included with each scenario. 

> WEEK 1:

🎄Day 1 - Stray Kids Felix x Reader

Cum play: Who doesn’t love a little treat on their first day of advent. You certainly do when Felix treats you early.

🎄Day 2 - ATEEZ: Wooyoung x Reader

Bondage: When decorating the house with Christmas lights turns into you tying Wooyoung up with the spare set.

🎄Day 3 - NCT: Jaehyun x Reader x NCT: Mark  

Threesome: Tensions are high when you “forget” your presents for each of them, giving them something they could never forget instead.

🎄Day 4 - GOT7: Mark x Reader

Brat Taming: It’s the season to behave...or not. It didn’t take a lot for Mark to switch when you tested his patience over Christmas party planning. 

> WEEK 2:

🎄Day 5 - Monsta X: Minhyuk x Reader

Toys: Is it Christmas day already? Minhyuk suprises you with a little present that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. 

🎄Day 6 - Day6: Young K x Reader 

Edging: When drinking hot chocolate whilst watching Christmas movies turns into something else that would make Santa blush.

🎄Day 7 - EXO: Sehun x Reader

Oral Fixation: Sehun gets a little wound up when you wouldn’t kiss him under the mistletoe, putting that pretty mouth of yours to good use. 

🎄Day 8 - Seventeen: Mingyu x Reader  

Creampie: Christmas pudding wasn’t the only thing that you were getting filled with this Christmas. 

🎄Day 9 - Pentagon: Kino x Reader 

Mirror Sex: You admire yourself so much in your reflections through the town’s windows, Kino turns this into something for both of your pleasures.  

🎄Day 10 - Block B: Zico x Reader 

Dry Humping: When getting bored at the Christmas party, you and Zico find something else to perk yourselves up. 

🎄Day 11 - Vixx: N x Reader 

Master/Sir: After a hard working month at work, your boss suprises you with something a little extra special, a bit more than a Christmas bonus. 

> WEEK 3:

🎄Day 12 - SF9: Zuho x Reader x Hwiyoung 

Cuckholding: When his date doesn’t go to plan, Hwiyoung gets something extra special to spend his Christmas holiday with you and Zuho. 

🎄Day 13 - 2PM: Nichkhun x Reader 

Marking: When you have a secret santa off a secret admirier, Nickhun can’t help but get jealous and makes sure that whoever it was, knew you were already taken. 

🎄Day 14 - SuperM: Ten x Reader 

Lingerie: Too cheer him up after a hard time over the holidays, you try on something a little special for him.

🎄Day 15 - SHINee: Taemin x Reader

Face Fucking - What does that mouth do other than sing those pretty little carols? Taemin bursts with the need to find out.

🎄Day 16 - U-Kiss: Kevin x Reader 

Wall Sex: Oh how pretty you look pressed up against the wall in your Mrs Claus outfit as Kevin is anything but nice. 

🎄Day 17 - KNK: Youjin x Reader 

Fingering: Naughty or Nice? Youjin makes that decision of you for himself, as his fingers do all the magic. 

🎄Day 18 - BTOB: Hyunsik x Reader 

Videotape: What’s Christmas without having a little keepsake of such a good time? This is the Christmas you’ll never get the chance to forget. 

> WEEK 4:

🎄Day 19 - TXT: Yeonjun x Reader

Exhibitionism: What’s a night out with friends to watch the lights without your boyfriend being desperate to have them shine over you whilst he’s fullfilling his needs?

🎄Day 20 -  ASTRO: Rocky x Reader

Vanilla Sex: 1st Christmas together, how else to celebrate that giving each other a little something to celebrate the holidays?

🎄Day 21 - Wonho x Reader

Thigh riding: Oh how you looked so god in your Christmas party dress, making Wonho slowly lose his mind as you use his thigh to not ruin such a pretty outfit. 

🎄Day 22 - DPR ian x Reader

Corruption: Of course, he couldn’t help himself from tainting you with his deepest and darkest desires when it’s a season to be good. 

🎄Day 23 - Eric Nam x Reader

Praise: A long day of shopping turns into something more entertaning to keep your spirits up, and of course, you behave so well

🎄Day 24 - Woosung x Reader

Degradation: Claiming to have been so good all year to the Santa at your mall, Woosung makes it evident that it’s all a facade. 

~

Tags: @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

[vulpes-fennec]

Love on Water Lilies 🪷 (Ch 1)

Summary: Prince Lucien Vanserra of the Autumn Kingdom is all play, no work. Elain Archeron, a waitress and aspiring restaurant owner in the city of Colibri, is all work, no play. Caught in a larger scheme of politics and war, Lucien and Elain are turned into frogs. Will Elain get her restaurant back? Will Lucien ever become Fae again?

Read on AO3

An Princess and the Frog inspired story for @elucienweekofficial Day 5: Nature 🍃

“Fried plantains and fresh fruit salad! Two vanilla golden toasts with honey syrup! Banana pudding!” The line cooks’ voices rang out from the sizzling kitchen.

“Coming right on up!” Elain Archeron plastered on a bright smile and cheerful voice as she dished out plate after plate of breakfast at Roy’s Cafe. The heavenly smell of fresh coffee was barely enough to keep Elain awake—she was exhausted. Elain glanced at the clock. Five more minutes…

Her shift at the Purple Flamingo Cabaret last night had certainly taken its toll, for the Summer Kingdom’s Mardi Gras festivities had begun. The swamp city of Colibri, known for good food and even better music, drew thousands of visitors every Mardi Gras. And this year, a special celebrity was in their midst: Prince Lucien Vanserra of the Autumn Kingdom, who had arrived just yesterday.

Although Elain hadn’t seen this prince yet, she heard plenty about him last night at the Purple Flamingo. The fourth and youngest son of King Beron Vanserra, Lucien was young, rich, handsome…and most importantly, single. He would probably remain that way, too, for word on the street was that Lucien was a total flirt. Gallivanting his way across Prythian’s kingdoms, taking on new lovers each week, partying all night long…

Elain grabbed a beignet to-go when she finally clocked out. Gulls squawked in the distance, green-painted trolleys clanged as they rolled by. Mardi Gras revelers walked by, decked out in chic outfits of green, purple, and yellow. With her food-stained yellow apron, worn ballet flats, and frazzled honey-brown hair, Elain felt a pinch of resentment.

Must be nice to never have to work a day in your life. Every year, the promise of generous tips during Mardi Gras dangled before food service workers like a carrot, tricking them into taking extra shifts.

It wasn’t always this way. Elain remembered the Mardi Gras celebrations of her childhood, the way she and her sisters danced to lively jazz and ate their way through delicacies all night long. The Archeron home used to be in the Marigold District, where all the wealthy Fae lived. But then Elain’s mother passed away, leaving her father depressed. Reginald Archeron rallied himself enough to fight in the Hybern War seven years ago, but lost his leg during one of the early battles.

Elain loved her father dearly, but it was plain fact that he had practically given up on life after becoming handicapped. The familial roles had reversed: instead of their father ensuring his daughters’ needs were met, Elain, Feyre, and Nesta were forced to take odd jobs in order to survive. Nesta delivered and occasionally edited for The Colibri Tribune. Feyre cleaned the art studios and landed the occasional art commission. Elain juggled multiple shifts between Roy’s Cafe, the Purple Flamingo Cabaret, and Emile’s Seafood Bar.

Though her shifts were grueling, Elain tried to view them in a positive light. It was career training of sorts: she paid attention to different management styles, brushed up her conversational skills with all sorts of Fae as a waitress, and improved her culinary skills as a cook. Ever since she was a little girl, a riverfront cafe to call her own had been Elain’s dream. When her family fell from wealth seven years ago, that dream was almost lost.

But now, Elain was closer to achieving that dream than ever. She was fairly confident in her capabilities as a cook and waitress. She had strong accounting skills, enough to ensure her restaurant wouldn’t go bankrupt. And more importantly, she had been in serious talks with realtors for a decrepit riverfront pavilion. The pavilion was a little run-down, but it was perfect in Elain’s heart. She juussttt needed a little more money…which was where the Mardi Gras cooking contest would come into play.

Because in addition to the multiple parades, balls, concerts, and parties, Mardi Gras featured local cuisines in a series of cooking concerts.

Today was the jambalaya cooking contest, which was taking place at Firefly Square. Tomorrow, Elain was slated for the baking contest, where she planned to wow the judges with her peach cobbler. The day after, she would participate in the fry contest, having perfected her fried chicken spice rub.

Elain stopped home to briefly freshen up. It was a tiny, cramped space—an utter downgrade from their old home. She and her sisters had squeezed three narrow beds into a room, the sole closet overflowing with clothes. The living room wasn’t much better: Feyre’s art supplies were strewn across every available surface, and Nesta’s second-hand books tilted in precarious stacks. Only the kitchen, Elain’s domain, remained spotlessly clean and organized.

Elain powdered her face, brushed her curls, dabbed a bit of lipstick, and donned a new dress. She needed to look fresh and proper, and a cute face never hurt.

She then hurried to Firefly Square, wheeling a little wagon full of ingredients and her trusty steel pot. Savory dishes were not her specialty, so Elain needed all the luck she could get. However, she was fairly confident that her jambalaya would at least place in the top three. Her best friend, Vassa La Bouff, and her sisters had helped refine the recipe over the last year, and the ladies could be trusted to give their honest opinion.

“Name?” The event attendant held a clipboard at the check-in table.

“Elain Archeron,” Elain replied cheerfully. The event attendant wrote her name on a wooden placard and placed it on the scoring rack. The five judges, a mix of renowned cooks and locals, were seated under a rich purple tent. Onlookers had gathered on the sidelines of Firefly Square to watch the judges sample each entry and announce their points.

Several other participants were already present, busying away at their own cooking stations. While there was no set “start” time due to the participants’ varying culinary skills and recipes, the judges would begin tasting at one o’clock in the afternoon. So Elain got to work.

First, she braided up her honey-brown hair and donned a flowery pink apron. Then, she began expertly mincing: peppers, celery, onion, garlic, and tomatoes. The heated oil sizzled the chicken and sausage, bringing fragrant notes of paprika, bay leaf, and thyme into the air. The meat was taken out, the vegetables added in. Elain cleaned the rice, poured in homemade chicken stock, and added more salt, pepper, and herbs.

Elain stirred the bubbling mixture, using the time to observe the other participants. There were ten competitors total. Some appeared to be seasoned chefs, others looked like novices. Regardless, everybody was making good progress on their jambalaya. And more importantly, everyone looked like they were having fun.

Elain’s mouth watered from the scents wafting from her pot alone. The consistency of her jambalaya was thick, but not mushy—it was all coming together nicely. Elain did a final taste test and smiled. Spicy, savory, and tangy…it was her best pot of jambalaya yet.

The judges seemed to think so, too, when they sampled her dish.

“Wonderful aromas.”

“The chicken is the right amount of tender, Miss Archeron.”

“Tastes just like my grandmother’s home-style jambalaya!”

This—this was exactly why Elain loved to cook: seeing people enjoy her food made her happiest. She was the last contestant up for tasting, which meant the score the judges awarded would be her final placement for the contest. Elain’s breath caught when she tallied up the judges’ marks. Third place…third place! Oh, she was going to walk away with prize money! Elain ducked her head and tried to squash her victorious beam. One step closer to—

“Excuse me! Excuse me!”

The most beautiful male Elain had ever seen strode into the courtyard, lugging a steaming pot with bare hands. His skin was a burnished brown, his long red hair tied up in a haphazard bun. She found herself eyeing his corded forearms, exposed thanks to the rolled-up sleeves of his white linen shirt. The male’s straight-legged olive green pants accented his muscled thighs, and his shiny black shoes with their gold details indicated expensive taste.

An entire entourage of Fae, mostly female, had followed the male into Ironwood Square, inevitably shoving Elain to the back.

“It’s Prince Lucien,” the crowd murmured to each other. “What is he doing here?”

Prince Lucien? Well…that explained how he could hold such a hot pot without any oven mitts. The Autumn Kingdom’s royal family possessed fire magic, which meant they could manipulate flame and were essentially immune to burns. Elain even overheard at The Purple Flamingo last night that Autumn males—especially the royal princes—fucked with an intensity that matched the fire in their veins.

Elain had practically snorted upon hearing such words last night, though looking at Prince Lucien now, it was certainly believable. But the delighted giggling of several females when the prince stepped up to the podium snapped Elain out of her reverie. Ugh! Prince Lucien was a playboy at best, a heartbreaker at worst, she reminded herself. No, she would not encourage the fantasies that had been surely planted in her mind thanks to his impromptu appearance, lest she turn into a tittering female over a male like him.

“Good afternoon, honorable judges.” Prince Lucien’s voice was rich and buttery, with a slight accent. For some reason, it reminded Elain of sunlight. He turned towards the crowd, and Elain stifled a gasp upon seeing the scar that ran down his face and cut through his left eye, which had been replaced by a mechanical gold eye. Such a brutal injury, yet the prince was made more handsome even with the scar.

“Welcome, Prince Lucien!” The lead judge leapt to her feet, a wide smile on her face. The crowd cheered again. Some females even screamed hysterically.

Prince Lucien gestured grandly to the entourage that followed him, gold earrings twinkling off the tips of his pointed ears. “I am here to enter the jambalaya competition. As there was no kitchen in my hotel suite, I had to borrow the kitchen at Restaurante Genevieve. Chef Michel and these citizens can attest that I made the jambalaya all on my own.”

The prince peered intently at the scoreboard, already stacked with ten other names and numbers. Elain could have sworn his brows raised in subtle surprise.

“Though I see now that I was tardy…” Prince Lucien trailed off as his eyes swept the crowd, as if he were looking for someone.

“The entry period closed thirty minutes ago but ah…we can make an exception, can we not?” The lead judge said quickly, and the audience clapped in agreement. The other judges nodded eagerly, clearly delighted at the presence of royalty. “Well, Your Highness, we would be honored to sample your jambalaya!”

Elain’s jaw slackened. A prince, participating in a jambalaya contest? She had never heard of such a thing. Royals had their own chefs. They probably wouldn’t even know how to boil an egg.

The prince’s russet and gold eyes were still scanning the square with unusual interest. Elain eyed him skeptically from the back, observing the confident smile on Lucien’s face and the swaggering cut of his broad shoulders. There was the off chance that Prince Lucien possessed culinary skills…but he was from the Autumn Kingdom. He wouldn’t know a thing about authentic jambalaya, Elain told herself. Elain relaxed, knowing she was safe and secure in third place as the judges sampled Lucien’s entree.

“Cauldron, this is absolutely divine!”

“Look at the colors on the spoon! So vibrant, so fresh!”

“I could eat this for the rest of my life and die happy.”

“Last call to score…and…first place! We have a winner!” The crowd cheered raucously.

Elain’s mouth completely fell open when the score attendant placed Prince Lucien Vanserra’s name placard on the top of the board, shifting everybody else down. Which meant…which meant she had been knocked off third place.

Elain was in shock. She wasn’t going to make it to the podium, and she wasn’t going to earn any prize money. Prince Lucien bowed, and then turned to the crowd that had gathered.

“Good food is meant to be shared! Please, feel free to finish the pot!” he announced, voice dripping with pride. More cheers and claps rang out as Elain was jostled out of the way in the mad stampede for the winning jambalaya.

This was not possible. This could not be happening.

Elain’s face grew hot with embarrassment, as she hurriedly packed up her wagon. It was time to go; she could not bear to spend another minute in the square with knowledge of her loss. Elain half-wondered if she should join the crowd and really try Prince Lucien’s jambalaya for herself. It couldn’t be that good. But the notion of a rich, playboy prince edging her off the podium in a cooking contest he had no stakes in was too shameful to consider. She could’ve done better. Should’ve done better.

Elain didn’t look back as she wheeled her wagon home, the rusty wheels click-clacking over the cobblestoned streets. Her half-full pot of jambalaya would become leftovers for her sister and father. At least they didn’t have to spend more money on groceries this week.

Some humility would do her good, Elain knew, as she was not a “professional” chef yet, but gods…would she ever be? If a prince could beat her in a cooking contest? If she couldn’t even win a couple judges’ favor, how was she going to draw the Colibri Fae to her restaurant?

—Later that evening—

After a fitful afternoon nap, Elain decided to stop by her cafe before heading to Vassa’s house. Well, it wasn’t hers yet, but Elain had recently begun treating it as such. She sat on a bench, listening to the lapping of the Mayhaven River, watching the steamboats chugging by.

“I’m almost there,” she whispered to herself. “People are going to come here from everywhere, I’m almost there.” The riverfront pavilion was a shabby brick building that had been a mess hall for dock workers in its previous life. The interior’s open layout would be the perfect place to install a stage for local musicians. Each table would have fresh flowers, the walls would be painted a creamy tan, the big windows would offer river views and plenty of natural light… oh, it was all coming together.

The door swung open. Hudson Jennings, Elain’s realtor, walked out with a folder tucked under his arm. Elain leapt up from her bench, ready to bid him hello. But she froze when a head of red hair ducked through the doorway. No…it couldn’t be…

“Pleasure doing business with you, Your Highness,” Hudson said, shaking Lucien Vanserra’s hand firmly. Even without his entourage of fans, Lucien held himself with a regal grace and winning smile.

“Of course,” Elain could hear the prince respond smoothly. “I look forward to establishing a second residence in Colibri.” Elain could only watch in horror as the realtor handed Lucien a set of keys before parting ways. Keys to her riverfront cafe!

“Mr. Jennings!” Elain ran as fast as her little feet could carry her as soon as Lucien had walked away. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. This must be a bad dream.

“Oh! Miss Archeron!” Hudson blinked his cat-like eyes in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

“Mr. Jennings, did you just sell the property to Lucien?” Elain was breathless. Please say no, please say no, she begged silently.

“Ah, yes I’m afraid I just did.” Hudson patted the folder of papers. “I know, I know…you have been eyeing that property for some time, Miss Archeron, but the prince showed up with ample cash! We have several other properties available in town for your cafe, though. Let us talk more next week.”

“But—” Elain tried to say, then deflated. Her realtor was already walking away. There was no use. Unless she somehow managed to alter Hudson’s memory, rip up the sale papers, and steal the keys from Lucien, the property was gone. And so were her dreams of owning a riverfront cafe.

It seemed the prince was hell-bent on ruining her life. Lucien had fame and fortune, and got everything Elain wanted because of his name. Perhaps Elain had angered the Mother, somehow. For how else could so much go wrong in less than 24 hours?

Elain tried very hard not to cry as she rode the trolley to Vassa’s house. One, she was in public, and ladies did not cry in public. Two, the La Bouff Mardi Gras ball was starting in a few hours. Elain had been looking forward to the event all month, and crying right now would make her eyes puffy.

The La Bouffs resided in the Dorado District, the richest district in all of Colibri. Vassa’s “house” was actually a grand, three-story mansion of pale white marble, elegant columns, iron lace accents, and sweeping gabled roofs. When Elain arrived, the bustle of the musicians tuning their instruments and the servants, the gurgling fountain, and the beautiful lanterns of green, yellow, and purple faelight made her smile. A good party always made her feel more alive, even though she attended very few of them in recent years.

Vassa’s parents were one of the Mardi Gras royalty this year, and had invited Elain to the La Bouff Mardi Gras ball. Vassa was a true friend: she didn’t shun Elain after the Archerons fell into poverty, and for that Elain was eternally grateful. The footmen, used to her comings and goings, offered Elain warm greetings when she entered the mansion via the servants’ gate.

While Elain spent her days working, Vassa spent her days studying. The young La Bouff was finishing her last year at the prestigious Colibri Academy for Witchcraft, and was determined to be the top of her class. The only thing in Vassa’s way? Briallyn, a rival witch from the Continent. During the unfortunate occasions Elain had to interact with Briallyn, Elain felt the witch resembled a beady-eyed lizard.

Elain made her way down the spacious hallway and knocked on Vassa’s bedroom door.

“Elain! I’m so glad you’re here!” Vassa threw her arms around Elain. Her best friend’s orange hair was styled into loose waves, her bright blue eyes already lined with gold shadow. “Come, let us get ready together!”

“Vassa, it’s so good to see you,” Elain sighed, her voice still thick with emotion from earlier.

“What’s wrong?” Vassa asked, her brow creasing with concern. “Was it the jambalaya contest? Did you not get first place? I mean, second place is also fine, and so is third.”

Elain sat down on Vassa’s bed, hugging her knees to her chest. “The jambalaya concert was fine, until Prince Lucien Vanserra showed up at the last minute,” she said bitterly. “I had placed third, but that was before the judges awarded him first place. I got bumped down and I didn’t get any prize money.”

“Oh no,” Vassa rubbed Elain’s back sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Elain.”

“It’s just not fair!” Elain complained, her face heated with anger. “The judges gave him special treatment, letting him enter the contest even though the judging window had closed! Lucien was cooking off-site, how could anybody truly tell he was the primary chef? And perhaps they didn’t want to upset a prince, so they put him first even though he didn’t deserve it!”

“I see what you mean,” Vassa hummed. “Did you end up tasting his jambalaya? Surely it couldn’t be as good as yours. Those judges must not have working tastebuds.”

“No, but that’s not even the end of it. I found out he bought the riverfront property from Hudson Jennings this afternoon. Vassa, you know how long I’ve been saving up for my cafe! To think the perfect location would be gone, just like that…”

“Cauldron boil and fry him,” Vassa muttered darkly, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Vassa. I know you’ve been looking forward to meeting Prince Lucien, that you want him to court you.” Elain sighed. “I shouldn’t be bad-mouthing him.”

“No, no, no,” Vassa shook her head. “Of course, I want Prince Lucien to court me, have you seen how handsome he is? But, your restaurant is something that I’ve been waiting for ever since we were little girls, Elain…when I see him tonight I will convince him to rescind the purchase.”

“Thanks, Vassa,” Elain smiled, feeling better. What Vassa set her mind to, Vassa achieved. She had no doubt her friend’s beauty and persistence would get the prince to change his mind. “He did say he wanted the property as a second residence.”

“Well! It wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to buy property in other Colibri districts!” Vassa raised her brows excitedly. “He could move in with me.” Vassa jumped to her feet, trying to inject some more life into Elain’s forlorn posture. “Now I know today hasn’t been the best day, Elain. But this ball will turn it all around! I have just the perfect dress for you, and I know you’ll have plenty of males to dance the night away with. It’s in the closet, come see!”

***Lucien***

“Just look at all of this, Jurian,” Lucien said to his best friend when they regrouped after the dance ended. “One of the best parties I’ve been to in a while.”

He had left his entourage of pretty females at the La Bouff mansion gate. Not that it really mattered, since there were even more females inside the ball. The musicians played lively tunes, inviting attendees to kick up their feet and whirl across the marbled outdoor dance floor. The La Bouff Mardi Gras decorations were simply exquisite, from the soft faelight lanterns hanging off trees to the flower arrangements on tables. Fae wine and cocktails flowed freely, wait staff walked around with platters of delicious food.

“Don’t tell Tarquin, but I’m enjoying myself far more here than the Mardi Gras balls in Adriata,” Jurian slurred slightly. The male lifted a pair of deviled eggs off a waiter’s tray and handed one to Lucien. “Though it is positively boiling in Colibri.”

“Of course, we’re near the Bog of Oorid,” Lucien remarked. He had donned an emerald green jacket with embroidered gold leaves at the cuffs, a freshly pressed white shirt, and black pants. The layers made him sweat profusely, though Lucien wicked away the excess moisture with a slight release on the damper of his magic. He looked good, and that was what mattered at the end of the night.

“Gods, I’m so hungry,” Jurian muttered as he inhaled a fried catfish filet within seconds. “They ate all your jambalaya before I could eat some.”

Lucien laughed. “Better clean up those crumbs and drink some mint julep before the next dance, Jurian. The females won’t appreciate fish breath.” Jurian only rolled his eyes as he turned his attention to a slice of Mardi Gras king cake.

Lucien scanned the rows of vendors, looking for the baked goods. But none of the vendors’ name tags read “Elain Archeron”. He sighed inwardly. He had no idea what Elain Archeron looked like, but had been hoping to try some of her famed treats. Tarquin, Prince of Adriata, could not stop talking about the hummingbird cake, peach cobblers, and powdered sugar beignets Elain made when she catered his Mardi Gras event in Adriata last year.

“If you’re visiting Colibri, you must try Elain Archeron’s food,” Tarquin had told him. “Elain’s cafe should be open by now. She is a very kind female as well, and please tell her I said hello.”

Elain Archeron had been one of the jambalaya contestants earlier in the afternoon, but the female did not bother introducing herself to him. Odd.

“Looking for Vassa?” Jurian inquired. Lucien was supposed to meet the Mardi Gras princess and ask her for the first dance, but her parents claimed Vassa was running late for the ball.

“I suppose,” Lucien murmured, even though that was not the case. Jurian knocked back another glass of Fae wine beside him. “Cauldron, Jurian. Save some space for the mint juleps before you get too drunk.”

“Aha! That reminds me…I’ll find those mint juleps while you’re looking for your princess. All this heat has me parched. Be right back.” Jurian clapped Lucien on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Lucien lingered on the side, trying to assess which pretty female he would dance with next, when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. A pale-faced female, with onyx black hair and equally dark eyes, was standing behind him. There was something cunning in her face, something odd Lucien could not quite place. Nevertheless, the female was dressed as one of the wait staff and innocuously offered him a platter of powdered beignets.

“Beignet, Your Highness?” she asked, her voice peppy. “I heard the prince has a sweet tooth.”

“Thank you.” Lucien picked one up with a napkin and absentmindedly brought it to his mouth. It was only when Lucien swallowed his first bite that he realized something was wrong. The beignet was slightly bitter, the powdered sugar chalky on his tongue. Suddenly, everything seemed bigger. Everything was bigger.

Lucien blinked, feeling like his eyes had doubled in size based on how long it took for him to fully blink. The grass…it was eye-level, the blades of green sharp and extra vibrant. His body was hunched over on all fours. He was…a frog?

Oh gods. What the hell just happened?

A looming shadow darkened the space around him. Lucien looked up just in time to see the waitress, monstrously tall with a wicked glint in her eyes, poised to slam a bowl over his head.

Act first, think later.

Booiingg! Lucien moved on instinct, his frog legs launching him into the air like a spring. He dove straight into the crowd of Fae party-goers, stalling the waitress from pursuing him any further.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. That was new. Fear seized Lucien like a vise, the adrenaline sending him into flight mode. Where the hell did Jurian go? Everything was so damn big…the distance he normally crossed in three quick strides now required multiple leaps.

There! Jurian was near the tree line, mint juleps in hand. Lucien hopped towards his friend, gaining more mastery over his new limbs with each leap.

“Jurian!” Lucien blinked, surprised that he still retained the ability to speak. “Jurian! Down here!” he called out, louder this time.

The Fae male above him glanced down and promptly dropped the drinks in shock. Lucien flinched reflexively when minty sweet alcohol rained down, but it didn’t matter any more. As a frog, he had no clothes to protect from spilled drinks.

“Fuck, I must be more drunk than I thought.” Jurian blinked twice and chuckled. “I could have sworn that a frog with Lucien’s voice just spoke to me.”

“That’s because it is me!” Lucien hissed, hopping up and down insistently. “Jurian!”

“Holy shit.” Jurian knelt on the ground, scooping him up in his hands. “Lucien, is that you?”

“How many times do I have to say it’s me?” Lucien grumbled. Jurian’s green-brown eyes peered down.

“Cauldron, you still have your scar and your gold eye. Well, it’s not made of metal anymore, but…fuck.” Jurian lifted Lucien up to perch on his shoulder. Lucien brought a webbed hand to his face, feeling at his left eye. Sure enough, he could see out of both eyes—truly see, without relying on a metal contraption. “Fuck, I probably look like I’ve gone mad, talking to a frog.”

The male took some deep breaths, pacing back and forth. Lucien clung onto Jurian’s purple jacket for dear life. “Jurian, can you stop moving?”

“Sorry. We need another drink.” Jurian swiped two goblets of wine off a passing tray and ducked behind a drooping willow tree. Lucien hopped down, sitting on all fours on top of Jurian’s thigh. “Okay, Lucien. What the fuck happened?”

“I ate a beignet from this waitress, and then I turn into a frog and she’s trying to trap me under a bowl!” Lucien glanced furtively at their surroundings, but did not see the wretched female’s face.

“What did the waitress look like?”

“High Fae. Pale, with black hair and black eyes. She was wearing the La Bouff servant’s uniform.” Jurian’s gaze darkened with protective instinct.

“Why would she put a curse on you?”

Lucien shrugged. “Not sure. She knew who I was, though, so that’s strange. I’m Beron’s youngest son, with a slim path to the throne. What good would come out of cursing me?”

“Perhaps she wanted money. Ransom a prince, you know.”

“As if Beron would pay more than a couple coppers to get me back,” Lucien said bitterly.

“You’re right, your father is a bastard.” Jurian frowned. “Could you undo the curse yourself?”

“I can try.” Now that he had Jurian to keep watch, Lucien closed his eyes and tried to tunnel deep down into his well of magic. He had always had a knack for spells and curses. It wasn’t like that of witches, who required specific ingredients, tools, and conditions to generate any effect. Rather, it was pure magic—power that stemmed from being the son of a High Lord.

He found the dark stain of the curse, but despite all his efforts to extract it, the stain remained stubbornly present. It was as if it was interwoven into his very essence. Lucien yanked and prodded and threw wave after wave of magic against it, but to no avail.

“It’s not working,” he announced glumly.

“We should find the La Bouffs…tell them that one of their staff, or the food they served, turned the visiting Autumn Prince into a frog,” Jurian proposed, his fists clenching with concern. “If they cannot resolve this, then they should be held liable.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Lucien replied dryly. “Lord and Lady La Bouff can only do so much. But Vassa…she’s studying to be a witch. I heard she’s the top of her class…perhaps she could assist with undoing the curse.”

“Perhaps,” Jurian mused doubtfully.

Lucien hopped onto the rim of the wine goblet and stuck his tongue into the chilled liquor. The sweet and tangy notes were far more sensational thanks to his new taste buds. Unfortunately, his added weight was an imbalance to the delicate stem, and Lucien promptly tipped backwards. Red wine poured over his entire underside, drenching him.

Jurian began to laugh.

“You know frogs absorb liquid from their underbelly skin, right? You’ll be drunk in no time.” Lucien stuck his tongue out at Jurian and rolled around the grass for a bit, trying to clean himself off. “I suppose Vassa would be glad to help a prince for fame, or fortune.”

“Also, we have the old tale of princesses kissing frog princes,” Lucien reminded Jurian. “With the laws governing witch magic, it’s very likely that this curse follows the same path of resolution.”

Jurian snorted. “Good luck trying to convince a princess—even if it’s a Mardi Gras princess—to kiss a frog. We are better off pleading directly.”

Lucien tried to grin, but it felt strange with a new mouth and new facial muscles. “You seem to underestimate me, Jurian.”

“Let’s bet on it: if you can get the princess to kiss you, I’ll walk Eris’s dogs for the next month.”

“I do enjoy a challenge. I offer you this, just for fun. If the princess kisses you, Jurian, then I’ll buy you a new sword. Out of Illyrian steel.” Lucien stood on his hind legs, straightening his back and tilting his chin up with the regal air of a prince. Jurian rolled his eyes.

“As if a princess would want to kiss a lowly Autumn Kingdom foot soldier over its prince.”

“I beg to differ, Jurian. I’m a frog this time…I think that evens the playing field.” Lucien winked. “Besides, stop discrediting yourself. You’re one of our most skilled warriors. Anyways…best of luck, I’m off to find the princess!”

“You bastard,” Jurian muttered darkly, shaking his head with amusement. He finished his wine in two large gulps, holding the empty glass up in a mock toast. “I would say I hope you lose, but life would also be boring if you were stuck in frog form.”

With that, Lucien hopped off towards the La Bouff mansion. There was a slim chance Vassa was still getting ready for the party—truly, females needed all the time possible plus more for these elaborate events.

Most of the ball’s festivities were taking place in the garden and first floor, and Lucien could hear Lord and Lady La Bouff—the Dorado Mardi Gras King and Queen—chatting with guests. That meant the light emanating from the window on the second floor was none other than Vassa La Bouff’s.

Clinging to small nooks in the marble, scaling up vine to vine—which was made harder thanks to his slippery frog mucus, Lucien made his way to the golden window.

Princess Vassa was standing on the balcony, and simply put, she was the most beautiful female Lucien had ever seen.

The female’s wide eyes were cast towards the heavens, her expression a mixture of hope and despair. Honey-brown hair was swept up into an artful bun studded with luminous pearls. A tiara of rose gold rested on her brow, glittering in the moonlight. Her soft curves and elegant shoulders were accented by a strapless lavender gown with a heart-shaped neckline.

“Please, please, please,” the ethereal princess whispered, clasping her gloved hands to her chest. “Please.”

Lucien hopped closer, the world spinning out of view. Ah, damn it. The alcohol was kicking in faster than he’d anticipated. Princely charm now had to be mobilized in full force if he wanted to receive a kiss.

He cleared his throat, but only a ribbet came out. The princess glanced down, spotting him. Gods, she was beautiful. Those doe brown eyes, that golden skin still warm under the silver moon, and those pretty rosebud lips that hooked Lucien in like a moth to a flame.

“If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask.”

[moonshinemusings]

i really enjoy your headcanons! Can you pleeeaaassee do it for my baby boy Alex :,) i love the ones with Alex. Love youu!!!

Thank you, I'm really glad you like them! Here are some more of my thoughts about Alex :)

---

General Alex Keller headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: slight mentions of canon typical violence

A/N: there are so many mentions of food in this?? I'm sorry, I just have some very specific thoughts about him lol

• I'm a firm believer this man runs hot like a furnace no matter the season. In the summer he should be suffering, but somehow he's used to the heat

• Dog person. When people say dogs look like their owners they are talking about him. He probably owns a beige labrador or a golden retriever

• He's good with most animals, but bigger ones like cows or horses kinda intimidate him. Only at first though, when he gets to spend some time with them he really enjoys their presence

• The only animals he really dislikes are birds. No specific reason, he just does

• He's somewhat an artistic soul; he likes to write song lyrics (although he can't really sing), design new tattoos for himself, try to scribble poems

• Alex loves specifically the pink cotton candy. As a kid he used to eat them often and they are still a comfort food of his

• Despite that, he likes salty and savory things over sweets

• An exception is vanilla pudding because he could eat it for the rest of his life. His second favorite is the caramel flavour

• He also looks like the average honey-mustard chicken enjoyer. With pasta. You know what, I think he LOVES any kinds of pasta

• He's also a fruit lover, his favorites are tangerines and strawberries. He totally eats his apple slices with peanut butter too

• Loves pizza even when he knows it's stereotypical. His mother used to make really good home made ones when he was younger and he never really grew out of the "I can eat a whole pizza in one sitting" phase

• Also, when he's drunk he always craves pizza, no matter where they are or how much he had to drink

• Speaking of, he can hold his tequila but weak to beer. Shots do almost nothing to him, but a few beers and he's down

• When he's drunk and gets together with Gaz and/or Soap, everyone is going to suffer from their volume and pranks. The amount of bullshit that can come out of their mouths those times is honestly impressive

• Still, he's king of respecting women tbh. If there is someone who's going to be polite and won't cross any boundaries even when in a pub shitfaced, it's him

• Alex is one of the worst when it comes to gossip because he wants to know all the tea. It's hilarious when he tells something he just heard to Farah and she already knows

• He's naturally easy-going and laidback, most know him for his friendliness as a close second to his abilities

• He's really good with kids. Alex is like the fun cousin you only meet at family gatherings, but those times he teaches you some tricks and tells the best stories you will forever remember

• He has one specific sniper rifle that he has gotten from his father at a young age. It can't usually be with him on missions because he has an assigned weapon, but when he can he takes the chance to use it on the field

• His favourite colors are green and red

• Most of his tattoos don't hold any deep meaning, only a few represent something/remind him of something/someone

• The codename Echo 3-1 is really close to his heart for some reason, if he could he'd keep it forever

• He's not a big fan of coffee, but still drinks it for the caffeine and out of habit

• He has occassional nightmares and night terrors (which soldier doesn't), but they are not as frequent as they used to be when he was younger

• Opposite of what others may believe, his hair takes like 5 minutes to style in the morning. Sometimes he puts some gel on it when it has already started to grow a little longer, but otherwise he just ruffles it and let's it do what it wants

• Some has told him before that he'd be a great leader, but Alex always denied it. He doesn't feel like he's cut out for that kind of responsibility

• He often bickers with Price, but only outside of missions. He's a pro at knowing when to take something seriously or joke about and that makes him really efficient in the field

• Alex often puts others before him, which almost cost him his life a few instances before. He doesn't think it would have been in vain though

• He loves to spend time in the nature, going on hikes, camping or hanging around the beach all day. Doesn't matter as long as he's outside

• As a kid, he tried to play football but hated it

• He used to be really good at math, but somehow as he got older he just gradually became worse

• In school he was the best at geography, communications and for a while math (as mentioned)

• He doesn't per se have a problem with flying, but would much rather travel through cars or other vehicles on the ground. They are much more comfortable, even if he likes being high up (hence his sniper position)

• When he was a kid, he didn't think about joining the army, although his father was a marine. He thought he was going to get a scholarship somewhere with his sport abilities or just land a decent place at a regular university. Turns out life had different plans, but he didn't regret it one bit

• He's totally the type to use emojis like 💀 and🧍🏻‍♀️ or the crying one when he laughs at something

• He's great at household chores and keeping the place running

• Alex can't exactly cook, but he can adjust just a few ingredients in a boxed food mix. It always turns out heavenly and no one can tell he didn't make all of it

• Deals well with horror movies but doesn't really like them

• Okay this last one if really specific and random at the same time, but he 100% eats the little chocolate roll things out of this wafer mix and no one can convince me otherwise

[fatuismooches]

Helloowww! How you doing? I hope the things are going well 🤗

Childe was the reason why i got into genshin and he will always be my #1. However, ever since Sumeru, Dottore has been CLAWING his throne and oh man, things are tight here. At this point, i must admit that these two are my favorites yet Dottie has been taking up the spotlight for some time. I have yet another scenario for him!

⚠️SPOILERS FOR ACT 2 FONTAINE AQ⚠️

Neuvillette has confirmed that Childe will have to spend some time in Fortress of Meropide, Fontaine's jail, until the full truth is revealed. I heard we should get the Fortress up for exploration in 4.1, so i really hope we go and visit the boy! However....... What if it was Dottore in his place?

It's difficult to imagine how things would play out if he stood trial in Opera Epiclese (forgive me, i have 2 braincells left and the only information they can process is how wholesome Harbingers + Tsaritsa family is, there is no more space left to discuss the progress of court trial). So let's take a more "comfortable" setting for scenario. Young Dottie, Akademiya days, youthful Reader as his assistant and a slightly fucked up experiment....... Just slightly. A minor slip up here and there, and whoops, the entire Akademiya knows. Sages are not happy but the circumstances are not yet clear, so Zandik is stuffed into jail cell until Matra decides his fate.

Reader doesn't sleep on things. Their bestie roommate has been isolated from the rest of the world and stuffed into some dirty dungeon Celestia knows where under the city. Unacceptable! So they pack their things up and head for a visit.

Zandik is genuinely surprised to see a Matra soldier approach the bars of his cell and tell him he has a visitor. All of a sudden, his one and only assistant appears from behind their backs, with the most charming smile he's ever seen (and this smile in particular gives him an impression that the things are a little fishy here...).

Reader is not allowed to enter the cell and the guard remains close, making sure the regulations of jail are followed thoroughly. Zandik and his assistant, despite the bars separating them, speak to one another like close friends. Reader has brought a whole basket of treats for him! A whole loaf of bread, Zaytun peaches, a glass of Padisarah pudding and even a box of bite-sized samosas. Young future-Harbinger scolds the Reader that they waste their time and energy by cooking so much food and bothering to bring it all for him. Jail provides enough food for survival, even if its tasteless (Reader knows that Zandik is really happy even if he appears to be angry, his blush-tainted cheeks can't lie 🤭)

All of a sudden, the guard nearby yawns and... falls to the ground?! And the Reader doesn't even flinch??? and keeps smilling like nothing happened??? And all of the sudden they grab the loaf of bread, tier it in half and pull the lock pick from inside??? And start to pick the lock on his cell's door???

Zandik has never been this confused.

Reader explains that they sprinkled some hallucinogenic mushroom powder in guard's coffee while fella was busy with some documents but effects ended up knocking him out. Works either way, so it doesn't matter! Matra did investigate the basket Reader brought along and even their clothing, but found nothing suspicious, so they managed to invade the jail with ease. Zandik is quite impressed that his assistant went through all the trouble to get him out of this hole and makes a mental note to thank them later.

Now it's time for the 2nd part of the plan: escaping the jail and deciding further course of action. Matra will surely track them down again if they stay in Sumeru, so it's about time to pack what's most important.

(This is super messy but i tried my best 😂 I will leave it with cliffhanger because oh boi this ask is hella long already whoopsie 😅)

- 🐺

HI 🐺 ANON!! I'm doing fine, what about you? ❤️ And I'm with you there, Childe was originally my favorite character too, i was SO obsessed with him 😭 Unfortunately his place has been toppled and Dottore and Scara have took his spot 💔 I hope you can be stronger than me 🐺 anon 😭🙏 !!

I too hope we can visit Childe. I really hope he isn't dropped of screentime 😭 At least Arlie will fill that void. And if Dottore ever appeared to stand trial... it would be all a part of his plan. He wouldn't be unnerved or worried in the slightest lol, not even taking it seriously while everyone else is fighting for their lives. He's always 20 steps ahead of everyone 🤷‍♀️ You two would be clowning everyone in the courtroom tbh 🤭

Anyway... I find this scenario so funny because it probably DID happen... considering what happened with Sohreh and all *cough cough* bro was probably locked up for a bit eventually. Did he care? No, not really. Just annoyed that he has to waste time in this cell when he could be doing far more useful things. Did you care? Yes, because it was boring without him. So of course you have a backup plan made specially for just-in-case situations like this! You couldn't leave your beloved down there... he totally missed you, right? (He does think it's rather boring down here... but missing you? How preposterous! He's lying to himself.)

I can just imagine the "wtf is actually wrong with you" look the Matra gave you when you appeared with a whole meal for someone like fucking ZANDIK. If you don't have a reputation of your own, you're probably getting questioned if you're being coerced into doing this 💀 The guards are just more confused because Zandik starts scolding you the second he sees you... are you alright? How does this relationship even work in the first place... (They don't think his red cheeks are from blushing... instead of irritation) BRO my favorite part is reader hiding a lock pick in the bread so it wouldn't be found during a body check... the way i would have never thought of that 😭 They are truly worthy of being the one and only Dottore's assistant!

He really didn't expect to have gotten out of here so quickly, sure, he probably could have gotten out of here himself eventually, or just waited to be released. Zandik supposes he underestimated your capabilities a bit... but he won't do that again in the future. Though you'll still be hard-pressed to squeeze a 'thank you' out of this guy, he's still very... you know. But he does appreciate it! There are not many people willing to break the law for him. Lastly... the moral of the story is that underestimating the lover of Il Dottore will land you a fate worse than what you think.

[marina41trench]

Yotsuba Tamaki - PTT Xmas RabbitChat [2/5] - Another Christmas Party

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Tamaki: Heeey

Tamaki: I don’t have work on Sunday next week, right

Tsumugi: Yes! You have a day off!

Tamaki:

Tamaki: Thanks for opening my schedule even though we’re busy

Tsumugi: It’s nothing!

Tsumugi: I apologize that you don’t get much rest at this time every year ><

Tsumugi: I heard you’re going to participate in the facility’s Christmas party!

Tamaki: Yeah

Tamaki: As Santa

Tamaki: I hope the kids will enjoy it

Tsumugi: I’m sure they will be really happy once Santa Tamaki-san arrives!

Tsumugi:

Tamaki: I used to wait for it after I mark the calendar

Tsumugi: When I was young, I used to do that too when I looked forward to Christmas (laugh)

Tamaki: Counting how many days left really makes you excited

Tamaki: And you won’t even get to sleep much a day before lol

Tsumugi: I know the feeling!

Tsumugi: There was a time that I fell asleep looking at the Christmas tree…!

Tamaki: You did that?

Tamaki: Little manager’s so cute

Tsumugi: I had a feeling that I’d meet Santa-san if I’m close to the tree…

Tsumugi:

Tamaki: The kids there said that too

Tamaki: They said they’ll write a letter so they could meet Santa-san

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: Did you also do Christmas parties when you lived there?

Tamaki: Yeah. I bought candies and played games. It was very fun

Tamaki: I was really good at tail tag

Tamaki: Not only I could use my feet, but my head too

Tamaki:

Tsumugi: Tail tag is very nostalgic! (laugh)

Tsumugi: On the contrary I was very weak at it and my tail was quickly stolen ><

Tamaki: Manager’s weak lol

Tamaki: I aim for the tip

Tsumugi:

Tamaki: If we’re on the same team I’ll protect the tail

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: Do you play tail tag even at Christmas parties?

Tamaki: I wanna play but I’ll be Santa

Tamaki: Maybe I could join them in other stuff instead

CHOICE

1) How about singing with them?

Tamaki: Sounds great. I’ll learn a Christmas song they’d like

Looks like they’d enjoy it more if I add dancing!

2) How about a staring contest?

Tamaki: I did that before! I’d get a candy if I win against the director who’s the Santa

She said that I stared at her a lot because I kept asking for candies lol

3) How about performing a magic trick?

Tamaki: I can do the one where a candy appears from a handkerchief!

Mikki taught me that in a program recently

Tamaki: And then do some candy hunting?

Tamaki: They’ll have it when they find it. I’m sure it’s going to be super exciting

Tsumugi: That sounds fun! I’m sure they’ll look for it very hard!

Tsumugi:

Tamaki: I’ll look for it too

Tamaki: Oh yeah

Tamaki: How about we do it at ChriPa?

Tamaki: I’ll keep eating King Pudding

Tsumugi: You’ll limit yourself to King Pudding lol

Tamaki:

Tamaki: Crap

Tamaki: It’s almost time

Tsumugi: Are you going out?

Tamaki: I’ll study for test with Iorin and Isumin

Tamaki:

Tamaki: Am I really good?

Tsumugi: You’re doing great! If you study with everyone you’ll surely pass the test!

Tsumugi:

Tamaki: That’ll be great…

Tamaki: I don’t wanna do supplementary lessons in the dorms if I fail

Tamaki: I’ll totally avoid it

Tamaki:

Tsumugi: Let’s do our best to celebrate with everyone!

Tamaki: I’ll. do. my. best.

Tsumugi:

[foundtherightwords]

The Quiet Chaos - Chapter 6

Pairing: Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike) x OFC

Summary: After a bad breakup throws her carefully-planned life into disarray, Esme has sworn off dating forever. However, when she forms an unexpected connection with a young man named Billy, who's dealing with his own struggles, Esme is forced to face the truth: sometimes you can't plan for love.  

Warnings: mental health issues, angst, slow-burn, developing relationship, dysfunctional family, some violence (non-graphic), some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter warnings: discussion of parental neglect/parentification

Chapter word count: 4.1k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - Christmas

As Esme had predicted, her parents didn't care about Billy's condition at all. But then again, she had never worried about that. If anything, her worries were the opposite—that her parents would be too nice to Billy and smother him with their affection. On Christmas Eve, she called them again to run through a list of do's and don'ts that she'd compiled.

"Please don't whisper around him, that'll make him paranoid. And don't shout either. I know you can get very loud when you're excited, Dad. Oh, you do. Please just remember to tone it down a bit. And please, please, Mum, don't ask him a million questions, and if he doesn't want to say something, please don't make up an answer for him. Don't make up stories about him or put him into one of your books."

Mum took offense at that. "Darling, when I do put someone into my book, I only use them as inspiration, you know that!" she said. "They never recognize themselves."

Yeah, like I didn't recognize myself, thought Esme bitterly, but she only said, "I'd know, alright? He's had a very tough life, he's not a source of inspiration for you."

"All right, Esme, we'll be on our best behavior," Dad assured her.

"And please do a normal Christmas dinner for once. None of your weird foods or experimental cuisine."

"We promise."

But Esme still didn't quite believe that they would keep their promise. It wasn't that they were malicious or deceptive, they were just terribly scatterbrained and it would slip their minds. So just to be on the safe side, she made a Christmas pudding with some brandy butter and brought it along. She was determined to give Billy a proper taste of Christmas, even if her parents fell through.

She had also told Billy that if he wasn't feeling up to it, he could change his mind about the visit or leave early. But he seemed quite calm when they met at the train station—calmer than Esme herself, at any rate. He only showed a bit of nervousness when he held out a package. "I know you said I don't have to bring presents," he said. "But I made these. Are they OK?"

It was a set of wooden cooking spoons, their handles carved with leafy vines and flowers, almost Art Nouveau in style. Just the day before, when he dropped by the clinic, Billy had given her a similar present—only hers were six measuring cups, and carved with what was easily recognizable was Angua and her five pups. They were almost too cute to be used.

"Oh, Billy, these are beautiful," she exclaimed over the spoons. "They'll love it. But—"

"What?"

"My parents don't really cook." That wasn't entirely true. "And when they do, they wouldn't use fancy spoons such as these." That part was true. Dad, the cook in the family, was the type who viewed recipes as more of a guideline, and to him, anything could be used as a kitchen utensil if you were determined enough. But Billy looked so crestfallen that Esme's soft heart took over. "You can still give them those though. They're so beautiful, my parents will probably put them on display or something." 

His face brightened up. "You sure?"

"Of course!"

As they got off the train at Rochester, Esme saw a familiar figure waiting outside the station by her parents' old car. "That's my sister, Sybil," she said to Billy.

"Photographer, lives in Edinburgh, right?"

Esme nodded, just as Sybil ran up to her and wrapped her in a bear hug. "Hiya, big sis!" She bent down to Angua. "And this must be Angua! Let's see if we can find her a Carrot, yeah?" Sybil was the one blessed with looks in the family. Esme's soft and rounded profile made her look meek and sometimes dumpy, as she was wont to describe herself, while Sybil was all sharp angles and delicate, elfin features, made all the more striking by her short black hair. But as the sister closest to Esme in age—only two years younger—she was also the closest Esme had to an ally in the family.

Esme introduced Billy. Sybil shook his hand, then whispered loudly to Esme, "He's cute, sis!"

"You have a girlfriend, Sibby," Esme chided, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I'm allowed to appreciate beauty, am I not?"

"Don't mind her," Esme told Billy, who was looking like his whole face was on fire. "She's a terrible flirt."

On the drive from the station to their parents' house, Sybil insisted on making a detour to show Billy some of the sights. "That's where Charles Dickens used to live," she would say, or "That's the house used as the model for Miss Havisham's house in Great Expectations." Meanwhile, Esme became more and more aware of a permeating stink in the car, a nauseating mix of manure and decaying flesh. By the crinkle of his nose, she was sure Billy had noticed it as well but was too polite to say anything. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and asked, "Sibby, what's that smell?"

"What smell?" Sybil replied. "Oh, in the car? That'll be the lamb."

For a second, Esme thought it was her younger siblings' stupid idea of a prank. "What lamb?"

"The lamb for our dinner." Sybil chuckled to herself. "So Dad saw this chap on TV making this thing called '24-hour lamb', right, and he wanted to recreate it, so yesterday he and I went to pick up a freshly slaughtered lamb from some lady he knows who has a farm. Had to drive all the way down to Lydd too."

Esme exchanged a look with Billy and groaned inwardly. Either her dad had forgotten his promise to do a "normal" dinner, or this was his idea of normal. She didn't know which was worse.

"What on earth is a '24-hour lamb'?" Billy chimed in.

"You dig a hole in the ground, start a fire in there, put some damp straw on top, then you put a lamb in and cover it up and leave it there for 24 hours," said Sybil, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Supposedly the meat will just fall off the bones."

Billy turned to Esme with a raise of his eyebrow, either of curiosity or concern, but Esme only shook her head hopelessly. "Don't get your hopes up," she told him. "Knowing my dad, you'll be too busy picking bits of straw and dirt out of it to enjoy it. That is if it's even edible."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Sybil said over her shoulder. "It'll turn out fine."

Esme wanted to point out the many times Dad's experiments had, in fact, not turned out fine, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle and had no choice but to resign to what fate, or rather, her family had in store for her.

***

Finally, they arrived at the cottage that Esme's parents had chosen to settle down in seventeen years ago, a low, rambling building with a sagging roof and whitewashed brick walls that were usually hidden under a curtain of clematis and wisteria in the summer, and even now, still retained a certain romantic air thanks to a web of skeletal vines. A sprawling garden surrounded it.

Sybil parked the car out front and they all went in. The front door was pushed open with some difficulty, and it soon became clear why—jackets and scarves and wellies and umbrellas were piled up in a corner of the front hall, just behind the door, nearly obscuring the floor tiles. Esme was appalled to see Sybil casually kick the pile to the side before adding her own jacket and scarf to it. With a sigh, Esme picked the pile up and tried to sort it out, but there was no place to put the clothes except for a long dresser, and this was already covered in mail. She attempted to clear off the letters and flyers and parcels, but her hands were full of clothes.

"Oh, Esme, get off it," Sybil said, not turning around. "You know that once you leave, it'll just get messy again."

Billy stepped in. "Here," he said, putting the post into a tottering stack, leaving some room on top of the dresser for Esme to put the clothes down into a vague semblance of order. She gave him a grateful smile.

The house seemed deserted, but they could hear excited voices from the back. "They must be in the garden, digging up the lamb," Sybil said.

While they followed her through the house, Billy grabbed Esme's hand and whispered, "Relax." She nodded uncertainly.

The back garden was as unkempt as the rest of the house. For some, the place might look picturesque, with the bare tree limbs and raggedy bramble bushes forming a perfectly muted background for the bright red and orange of the holly and firethorn berries, but for Esme, it just brought back memories of getting scratched by stray branches and fending off the bugs that bred like mad under the cover of the thickets. The only place that looked like it had some attention was the shed at the bottom of the garden, where her dad did his glassblowing.

Four people were gathered in front of the shed, looking intently at something on the ground and arguing amongst themselves. "I'm telling you, Dad, it's not ready yet!" This was Tiffany, shaking her head of bright magenta hair.

Sam and Dad were both waving their long, gangly arms in front of her, looking like two windmills in dispute. "But it's called 24-hour lamb, and it's been 24 hours!" Dad said.

"Yeah, it may be burned, Tiff!" Sam always took Dad's side in every argument.

Mum looked up and saw Sybil striding toward them, with Esme and Billy trailing behind. Her face broke into a smile, and she ran to them with her arms wide open. Before anyone could open their mouth, Mum had engulfed first Esme, then Billy in a tight hug. Only after she'd let a startled Billy go that she seemed to remember herself. "Oh I'm so sorry," she said. "I should've asked if you'd like a hug first, shouldn't I?"

"No, it's alright," Billy managed to say. "Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Pendergast."

"Please, call me Ivy. It's lovely to meet you too, Billy. Hello, you," this was to Esme, along with a pinch of her cheek.

"Hi, Mum." Out of all the kids, Esme was the one that resembled their mum the most, at least in terms of their physical traits—the same dark hair and hazel eyes, the same soft features—and yet the way they carried themselves was so different that most people didn't pick up on their resemblance right away. Mum filled every space she was in with big, exuberant gestures, and even her hair was always loose, flying all over the place, while Esme always hung back, kept still, trying to make herself smaller and unnoticed, her hair in a neat, tight French braid.

She introduced her dad, Tiffany, and Sam. Their greetings were no less enthusiastic than Mum's, but Esme was glad when they didn't heap their attention on Billy, instead turning toward the mound of dirt on the ground. "Ever had salt-marsh lamb, Billy?" Dad asked. "Sorry, do you eat meat? I forgot to check with Esme."

"I still don't think it's ready," Tiffany said.

"But I'm hungry," whined Sam.

"Esme brought a pudding," Sybil said. "Eat that if you can't wait."

"No!" Esme shouted. "That's for later!"

She recognized in Billy the nonplussed but amused look people often had when they met her family for the first time, as he answered Dad, "Um, yes. No. I mean, I do eat meat, but I've never had salt-marsh lamb."

"Great! This will be your first taste then! Sam, fetch me the spade."

Under six pairs of watchful eyes, seven if you count Angua, Dad uncovered the mound of dirt with the solemn air of one of the Sutton Hoo excavators. Esme expected a plume of smoke, a cloud of steam, or the smell of cooking meat, to come out, but there was nothing, except for the smell of dirt and that stink she'd smelled in the car, getting stronger and stronger the further down the spade went. Dad, however, didn't seem to notice anything wrong.

"Aha!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he unearthed a blackened lump in the shape of... yes, the shape of a whole lamb. Billy turned away, his face turning a worrying shade of green.

"That looks... that looks raw, Dad," Sam said, as Dad scraped away some of the soot and ashes and opened the piece of burlap wrapped around the lamb.

"How can it be raw?!" Dad roared.

But if the smell was any indication, the lamb was indeed raw. And, to further drive home the point, Angua took an appreciative sniff and bounded forward, ready to sink her teeth into the haunch of raw sheep. "Angua, no!!!" Esme shouted and pulled her back, just in time.

She looked around at her family. Mum was shaking her head. Dad was red-faced and scraping in vain at the hole, trying to figure out where it had gone wrong. Her younger siblings were trying to suppress laughter, but a narrow glance from Esme sobered them up. Billy was still looking queasy. Her heart sank. He probably thinks we're all a bunch of ghouls.

"Dad, leave it," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Mum, what are we going to do for dinner? Do we have anything else in the house?"

A panicked look crossed Mum's face, as if someone had just asked her to recite the first 100 digits of pi from memory.

"Are you telling me that this—lamb—was going to be our entire dinner?" Esme felt close to tears. "No sides, nothing?" But nobody was listening to her.

"It's the damned straw!" Dad shouted. "It's wet! I told you it was supposed to be damp, not wet!"

"Back in medieval times, people would've been glad for all this meat," Tiffany, who was studying history at Cambridge, said. "They wouldn't need side dishes."

"We—are—not—medieval—people!" Esme said through gritted teeth.

"Relax, Esme. It's fine," Sybil said.

"Hey, maybe we can put it in Dad's kiln!" Sam piped up. "That ought to cook it, right?"

Esme buried her face in her hands.

***

And so for Billy's first Christmas dinner with Esme's family, which took place on Boxing Day, they ended up eating Chinese takeaway before finishing with Esme's Christmas pudding, which had gone a little stale and had to be fried up in some butter, but that was actually quite delicious, so it was all right.

Still, the slight irritation Esme had felt the moment she arrived home and saw the messy front hall refused to go away. It wasn't directed at anyone in particular, just a general annoyance when the two parts of her life collided and she couldn't decide which part she belonged to, the sensible, practical one in London, or the chaotic but charming one in Kent.

The one thing that cheered her up was that Billy took it all in his strides. While waiting for Sybil to bring back the food, they lounged around the kitchen for a bit of a chat, and the inevitable question of how the two of them had met came up.

"Billy brought Angua into the clinic—" Esme began.

"Then we found her pups under a bridge," Billy followed. "We didn't meet a troll though, despite my name," he quickly added.

Everybody laughed, and Esme turned to Billy with a surprised grin. He grinned back. He must be feeling quite relaxed to be making jokes like that. Perhaps this would turn out well after all.

Once they sat down to eat (another oddity in the Pendergast household, which had no set mealtimes), Billy gave her mum the spoons, apologizing for not wrapping them nicely. Everybody oohed and aahed over them, and Dad started asking Billy all sorts of questions about woodworking, which Billy didn't seem to mind talking about. In fact, he was looking quite at home, though from time to time, he would take Esme's hand or touch his knee to her leg, either to assure her that everything was fine, or to assure himself that she was still there.

When the conversation turned to childhood, Esme started feeling a bit nervous. Mum was telling Billy about how the kids had all shown their aptitudes from a very early age—Sybil snapping away with the Polaroid camera she found at a flea market when she was five, Tiffany insisting on stopping at every historical site they came across while driving around in the camper van, and Sam going to bed as a baby with a paintbrush in his fist. "And Esme was always bringing home little injured things, of course," Mum said. "I still remember the first time. It was a worm that she accidentally cut in half while playing in the dirt. She was in tears for days after."

"I didn't know if it grew back or not, alright?" Esme said to Billy, defensive. "I thought I'd killed it. Not all worms can grow back, you know."

"What about you, Billy?" Dad said. "I bet you were the same as a kid, always tinkering around with chisel and things, right?"

Esme closed her eyes briefly. I've told them a million times, don't ask him about his life! She was trying to think of something to change the subject, but to her surprise, Billy was answering, calmly, "I suppose so. I used to carve the Uffington White Horse on little pendants for my dad, to sell in shops." His hand was clenched around hers under the table, but he gave her a brief smile to say it was all right.

Mum suddenly asked, "How come you're not wearing your White Horse necklace, Esme? I thought you loved it."

Esme hadn't worn the necklace since she and Billy started seeing each other, and she'd completely forgotten about it. "The silver's a bit tarnished, so I want to have it cleaned," she lied, ignoring Billy's questioning look.

Her answer seemed to satisfy Mum. They talked about the White Horse a bit, and then, to Esme's immense relief, the conversation veered toward prehistoric hill figures in general, and nothing more was said about horses or childhood.

It was only when they were on the late train back to London and Esme saw Billy almost visibly sag down in the seat that she realized how hard he'd tried to mask his anxiety during the visit. "You didn't have to put so much pressure on yourself," she said. "My parents really like you."

Probably even more than me, an unkind thought flitted through her mind, before she could stamp it down. Oh, she knew her parents loved her, albeit in a general, abstract way. But like? They didn't like her much. They tried to hide it, but Esme could always tell, even as a child. Kids can pick up on that kind of thing. She was too serious, too rigid for them. Well, they shouldn't have named me after a certain stern old witch then...

"Are you mad at me for giving them the spoons?" Billy asked.

"What? No! I told you it was fine."

"Then what is it?"

Was her irritation that noticeable? Esme knew that if she tried to change the subject, Billy would brood over it and become convinced that it was his fault somehow, so she spoke the truth. "It's not you. It's my parents. They always get on my nerves."

"So they're a bit absent-minded. It's not the end of the world."

"Try growing up with them, never knowing what you're going to eat, because they forget to prepare a meal, and you'll be having chocolate cake for dinner." In her anger, Esme had forgotten her self-imposed rule of not whinging about her parents to Billy. "Sibby and I constantly got into trouble at school because they kept forgetting Parents' Evening. When Tiff and Sam started school, I had to be the one that reminded them. I had to be strict with my siblings, so our parents could be fun. Sibby understood a bit of that, but Tiff and Sam never did. And all of my friends were always banging on about how they wished their parents were as cool as mine—"

"They still love you. They're still nice people."

Esme retorted, "You're just saying that because they're not your parents." Next to her, Billy flinched, almost imperceptibly—she felt it, rather than saw it, a slight stiffening of his shoulder, a tiny shift of his body away from her, and realized how cruel she'd sounded. "I'm sorry."

"No, 's alright." Billy gave her hand an awkward pat. "Just because I have a shit childhood doesn't mean you can't tell me about yours. We're not competing to see who has a shittier childhood, are we?"

"But I don't want to burden you with all this..."

"Is that why you stop wearing your necklace too, because you don't want to burden me?"

She was shocked at his accusing tone. "No! I just thought—I'm just being considerate..."

"What, you think I'm so fragile that I can't even look at a necklace?"

She didn't know how to respond to that. Billy was watching her intently, but when she didn't answer, when she couldn't even look at him, he turned toward the window and kept his eyes fixed on the glass, though there was nothing to see but darkness, broken by pockets of light from some village or town. They remained silent for the rest of the ride.

***

Esme decided to accompany Billy from the station back to his flat, hoping the walk would erase the strange tension between them, although this meant she would have to take the bus home. Billy just shrugged and said "Whatever you want," which she took as a bad sign. Silence thickened between them, heavy and sullen. More than once, Esme tried to say something to break it, but her mind was drawing a blank. Talking about it would make him feel bad, but not talking about it would confirm his accusation. So they just walked, Billy with his shoulder hunched, avoiding her eyes, while Angua scampered between them, looking from one person to another as if to ask what was wrong.

They had almost reached Billy's flat and the turn for the bus stop, where Esme planned to say goodbye, when Billy stopped so abruptly that she nearly walked into him.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I don't remember leaving the lights on," Billy said. Both windows of his flat were indeed ablaze with light.

They approached slowly. The front door was closed but not locked. Esme's slight concern edged into panic. "Do you want me to call the police?" she asked, digging her phone out of her bag.

Billy shook his head, but his hand trembled as he pushed the door open, and he looked frightened, like a—like a lamb being led into slaughter, thought Esme. It was a silly idea, but it stuck, perhaps because her dad's horrible cooking experiment was still fresh in her mind. Yes, Billy didn't look like he was afraid because he didn't know what was behind the door. He was afraid because he knew exactly what was behind it.

And what was behind it was a man. A man, sprawled on the sofa and stuffing his face with the pigs in blankets Esme had made for Billy the other day in lieu of a proper Christmas dinner. He looked to be in his late thirties, with close-cropped hair, a square jaw, heavy stubble, and muscular, tattooed arms accentuated by his wrinkled T-shirt. Angua growled.

The other man's eyes, of a lighter brown than Billy's, turned to them, regarding them coldly.

"There you are, Billy. Thought I'd missed you," he said. "A family reunion at Christmas. Isn't it nice?"

Billy seemed to shrink in front of those malevolent eyes.

"H-hello, Jimmy," he said.

Chapter 7

A/N: I totally stole the lamb story from Joe Thomas's insane episode of the Off Menu podcast. If you haven't listened to Off Menu (or have only listened to Joe Quinn's episode), I highly recommend it.

Also, some spiciness is coming next chapter (properly this time, not like the embarrassing scene in Chapter 5!)

Taglist: @quinnypixie, @accidentalslag, @etherealglimmer