#I need a business card for people I've met

[screamsofanoutlawbrain]

I can describe my gender as being the way it is because I was built a girl, and I had to learn slowly over time that the changes to myself I have made have nothing to do with my gender or sex, but I feel like I got something a bit funky going on inside and I feel a bit like I'm not fully girl but not anything else. I identify as demi girl, and I am a demi girl in the way that a cupcake is a muffin but a muffin is not a cupcake.

Aka if being a girl was like our solar system, then I'm pluto. Technically I'm not supposed to be in there, but nobody wants nor cares to push me outta the party.

[bubblebbg]

would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.

This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Miguel O'Hara x reader

To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.

Part 2

"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"

"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.

When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."

You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"

A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."

"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.

"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.

"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."

"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."

"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."

This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.

"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."

Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"

"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"

He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -

Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"

And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.

"What are you doing?"

You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.

"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."

He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.

This is how it's meant to be.

[kaleldobrev]

The One Bed, Two People Problem (2) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Slightly vulnerable Dean, Self-Loathing Dean & Implied sexual fantasies (very minor)

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read Chapter 1

"One room please," Dean said, as he plopped down his credit card onto the desk in front of the motel worker: a big grin on his face.

The worker looked at him tiredly and picked up the card. Looking at the name on the card, he looked at Dean, who maintained the same smile. "John Paul Jones?" He asked, his voice matching the tiredness in his eyes. "Like the dude from Led Zeppelin?"

"I get that a lot," Dean stated, trying to sound convincing, despite the motel worker probably not needing to be as he looked tired enough as it is. The worker nodded and started putting Dean's information into the computer; Dean swayed back and forth on his heels, looking around the motel lobby, not enjoying the awkward silence that was between the two. "It's a good thing I'm a Zepp fan," he added, a bit of humor in his voice, as he attempted to make awkward small talk with the man.

"Huh uh," the worker mumbled, not seeming interested in having any sort of conversation with Dean, as he was trying his best to concentrate on what he was doing, as the lack of sleep and pulling all-nighters the last couple of nights was starting to catch up to him in this moment.

Dean started to get slightly nervous, as the worker seemed to be taking a little bit more time than usual to be placing the information into the computer. "Is there a problem with the card?" Dean asked, after the motel worker started making a face that looked similar to confusion.

The worker shook his head. "Nah man. Just tired. It's my third night shift in a row and it's been a killer. Can barely keep my fucking eyes open. But I'm thankful to be doing anything at least. You're the first person I've seen in days, since the regulars haven't even come by." Dean decided not to ask about who or what the regulars were, but he would be lying if he wasn't the least bit curious.

"Surprising," Dean said. "Thought you'd get more on-going business being right on the highway like this. I mean, I've been to Tulsa a few times, and it's always pretty lively, even this time of night."

The man scoffed, almost chuckling at his words. "People don't like motels like they used to. They rather stay at the Holiday Inn down the street. Apparently, motels give people the creeps now," he said, rolling his eyes. "Too much shadiness I guess for people."

"I've stayed at more motels than I can count, and uh, they basically feel like home to me. They've never once given me the creeps," Dean told him, partially telling the truth, as he has stayed at plenty of motels over the years that have had questionable stains and clientele more times than he could count.

The worker nodded, handing Dean back his card. "Alright, we have one room available with a queen," he said.

Dean gave him a semi-puzzled look, unsure how true that really was, as the worker just said that he was the only person he's seen in a few days, and the parking lot was essentially empty besides his and who he assumed to be this man's car. "Nothing with two beds?" Dean asked. He didn't mind sharing a bed with you, but he wanted to get two to be safe, as he was afraid that he'd somehow hurt you in the middle night if he had one of his PTSD style nightmares he occasionally got, more often than he'd like to admit.

"Look, I have one room left. And that one room has one bed that you're either going to have to share with your guest, or one of you is sleeping on the floor," his voice had no hint of tiredness anymore.

"One bed it is," Dean said, his lips forming into a fake smile.

"And you're in room three," the worker smiled, handing Dean the room key.

After getting off the phone with your boyfriend, you hit your head repeatedly against the headrest, frustrated that you had let him get to you again. He was hours away, and yet, he had managed to re-anger you, which was something that you were close to getting rid of during your nice and peaceful drive here.

In addition to your re-anger, you were minutes away from meeting someone new, and there was a part of you that felt bad for Dean, because being angry and mean was the last thing you wanted as your first impression. "Okay, you got this," you whispered to yourself, taking a few breaths before exiting your truck.

Walking out of the motel lobby, Dean started thinking of ways in which he was going to break the cliche news to you, as a one bed for two strangers seemed like something that came straight out of a chick flick or romance novel. "So bad news, we have to share a bed because for some reason despite the motel parking lot being empty as fuck, there was only one room that had a single bed in it," he thought to himself, cocking his head, thinking how saying that to you might work. Then again, he didn't want you thinking that he got a room with a single bed on purpose because you were a chick, and hoping to get lucky. Then again, he certainly wasn't against it...Then again, Sam told him that you had a boyfriend and you were off-limits.

As he started walking toward the room to put his stuff inside and examine the room, he looked at the parking lot, and noticed another vehicle had pulled into the lot since he had come into the motel; and it was parked a few spaces away from Baby. It was a Generation Seven, F150, in a brownish beige color that looked to be in brand new condition.

And that's when he saw you, or at least he hoped it was you, pulling out a large duffel back from the truck bed, that seemed to be a little beat up.

He started walking toward you, making a mental note to introduce himself just far enough way, because he wasn't sure how quick to the draw you were.

You sighed, grabbing your duffel, and slung it over your shoulder, as you were mentally preparing yourself to meet someone new. But you were tired, angry, and a little bit hungry; and all you really wanted to do right now was take a scolding hot shower and hit the pillow face first, instead of making awkward small talk.

"Hey, you must be Y/N," you heard a male voice say from a few feet away from you. Closing your truck bed, you noticed a blonde-haired man, who appeared to be a little over six feet tall, wearing a flannel and denim jacket similar to you, walking in your direction. This must be Dean, you thought.

"And you must be Dean," you said, when he was just a few feet in front of you. As he stood there, he leaned his arm on your truck bed, and stared at you with a smile that could easily melt the iciness that was inside your heart; you hoped that you weren't blushing. You're here to do a job, and you have a boyfriend, you told yourself.

"Nice truck," he complimented, as he patted the side. "Gen seven?" He questioned, but his tone insinuated that he already knew the model; he just wanted to see if you knew. And of course you did, as this truck was one that you had practically re-built over the course of a single summer without barely any help.

You nodded, and smiled at him, practically grinning from ear to ear; your smile was breathtaking. "He sure is. I practically re-built him over the course of a single summer before I started hunting. You should have seen the shape he was in; the whole body was practically rust," you explained.

Dean listened to the way you spoke about your truck, and he admired it, as it was similar to the way he would speak about Baby. But the way you spoke about the truck was not the only thing he was admiring; he was admiring the way the denim jacket you were wearing was slightly falling off your shoulders because of how big it was, as if you had borrowed it from someone Sam's size. Even though it was still slightly dark out, and the harsh yellow lighting was doing nobody any favors, you still somehow looked absolutely gorgeous in this lighting. Your skin looked so smooth, except for a few scars that he noticed in several places. He couldn't help but wonder the stories behind them. You're here to do a job, he reminded himself.

"That's pretty impressive that you re-built him without any help. Not a lot of people can do that," he said, trying his best to pay you a compliment. "Especially since you taught yourself."

"Yeah. My dad knows some stuff about cars, but he's no expert or anything. My best friend was the one who..." your voice trailed off, and you slightly had a blank stare on your face, as if you were reminiscing about something.

"I've re-built Baby more times than I could possibly count," he said, pointing at her for a moment before turning back to you. Your blank stare finally fading.

"When Sam told me, I honestly didn't believe him. You must be really good with your hands," you said, with a slight hint of...was that...flirting? Were you flirting with me? Dean thought. No, there's no way.

He chuckled a little. "I'd like to think so." I'd do anything to put my hands all over you....he thought. "Oh, um, since I got here first," he began, attempting to change the subject before his brain started to create some fantasies. "I was able to get us a room. But, there's only one bed, so we either have to share, or one of us is going to have to sleep on the floor."

You felt your heart starting to race a bit faster now, and your throat was beginning to get a tad dry. Were you actually nervous about the possibility of sharing a bed with the eldest Winchester?

"I don't mind sharing a bed as long as you don't," you said. But as soon as you said those words, your brain was starting to create a moral dilemma. You have a boyfriend, this counts as cheating, you thought. No, it doesn't count as cheating, I don't plan on sleeping with him as much as I'd like to.

"I don't mind. But uh...just a heads up, I get um...nightmares," he said, sounding hesitant.

"It's okay, I get them too," you reassured. "Want to head inside then and see if we can get a few hours before we go to the station tomorrow?"

Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me," he smiled.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 3 (Not yet available)

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[ninelivesastrology]

I'm going to complain about the spiritual community again. Maybe not about the spiritual community because this definitely pertains to a select amount of people.

Women who can't decenter men can't appreciate divination and often abuse it to the point of delirium.

I stand by it, man, you just need one good reading, not 30 personal readings a year and a YouTube history that looks like this consistently:

Who has a CRUSH on YOU?🍒🍥🎂

How Do They Wanna F*CK you? 👀🧿

Messages from YOUR EX 😭💧👂

WHEN IS YOUR KARMIC JUSTICE ⚖️ TWIN FLAME 🧑‍🤝‍🧑 SOUL-BOND 💌💌💌 DOMINANT KING OF SWORDS 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 ALPHA OMEGAVERSE 🍆🍆🍆🍆 💦💦💦💦 CANON DIVERGENT ↩️⤵️ COFFEE SHOP AU ☕ HURT/COMFORT 😭😭😭😭💔💔 DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT ❌❌❌ 8TH HOUSE STELLIUM ♒♑♋♊♉♍♎♓♉♐ DARK!DIVINE MASCULINE 🔫🔫🔫 LEAVING HIS 💅🌹 KARMIC FOR YOU? MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! (IF YOU SEE THIS MESSAGE, YOU'LL GET $10,000 FROM YOUR SPIRIT ANIMAL IN THE 7D IN THE NEXT TWO WEEKS!)

That isn't healthy. And then they turn around to their own cards and no spread ever makes sense, send it off to their friends and their friends don't know what the fuck they're looking at, like some people aren't diviners, not everyone is meant to be. The truth is, a great deal of people are just mentally ill with an internet connection and a tarot deck.

Dare I say your bond is not that strong with your deck and that you don't have the gift of divination if you're picking it up and asking, "Am I going to meet my soulmate?" every 2 business days or asking your deck, "Does my crush want to fuck me?" And the dude is a new guy they just met and know nothing about, probably looked in their general direction once. :/ Those decks must be so tired. Just as tired as the diviners being paid to read.

I've actually just realized that some of the women I surrounded myself with were really envious of me predicting certain things about my own life and they can't divine to save their life. I've found myself mirrored by them on more than one occasion. Some people just get really hot over your relationship with spirituality. All of sudden, your deity is their deity. You grabbed a crystal for your boyfriend? They start wearing the same crystal. Their practice would be nothing without my blueprint and it hardly works out because look at them, faking it.

[liaswills]

Pick a card: Does your crush like you back?

Today we are asking 4 seperate energies what they think of you! It's important to know that any pick a card's are general energies and some messages are resonant to your crush and others might just be for other people. Generally this is my first pick a card on Tumblr but I've been in the tarot community for longer than today, since 2017 I read tarot.

Disclaimer: I haven't used any tarot cards for this reading, ironically. I'm channelling the messages instead.

Take a moment, I understand crushes on anyone can be mind whirling and obsessive at times. But well I'm here to feed your obsession, aren't I? I will take the opportunity to channel their messages so every reply is written in the voice of your crush (general) and I'll give all four groups some extra information too!

Pick one of these four sentences from my favourite tommy shelby quotes!

1. "Why not?" — Thomas Shelby

2. "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?" — Thomas Shelby

3. “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.” — Thomas Shelby

4. “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.” — Thomas Shelby

All readings are channelled letters from your crush s/o. Hope you enjoy these and follow my account for more tarot posts!

Pile 1: "Why not?"

First of all this is a person that thinks softly of you. They have kind eyes, might be more of an effeminate person. May have a beard, or look like a gentle giant. I'm also getting blonde/brown hair or shoulder length blonde hair. They have dazzling eyes.

My darling,

I have never called you that before. But why not, eh? Or maybe I do enjoy calling you that in my mind. You are like a fond thought my mind wanders to when I am sitting in the train or my car. Or when I walk or am riding my bike. I think of you softly. I'm secretly afraid, that whilst I think of you softly, you don't think of me that way. I might just be a hopeless fool thinking you'd be interested in myself. Or perhaps I am not a fool?

I kind of want to do fun things together. Take it slow. There are some people I think of. Some other people that might be interesting to me as well. I know you didn't expect to hear that but I'm sometimes too stuck in my daydreams that I wished I was anyone's person. I just want to think of love. I like to imagine my closest friends think me an idiot everytime I say I met someone because how could they not? I sort of just 'love' being in love, right there, in my head.

Telling you how I feel makes me question whether it's worth it. Should I take that step to ask you how you're doing? To ask you whether you'd like to walk with me? Get an icecream? I don't know how to date to be honest. I read often, I just thought that thinking of you in my mind would be easier than thinking of you and I actually going someplace to do fun things together.

I specically like your legs, your smile, your hair. I think you look like my dream person. I may not smile in person, or I may not say these things in person, or I may not even let you know how HOT I think you are but you really are my type. I just don't know whether you'd think of me as 'your' type.

Sometimes I fantasize too much. I think it all out. Us, together, marriage, maybe even normal things like grocery shopping together or finding out what kind of candy you eat or don't eat. I kind of want to know how you live your life. I really admire how you come off to me as a person and I just think that we could 'be' something. If only my mind wasn't so easy to wander to other scenario's and people and friends who could possibly become my person too.

If you like me, just tell me. Right now. I beg of you. It would make my day. It would be recipocrated, I already have chosen you in my heart but I can't keep my mind collected. I can't stop thinking about work or about how busy I actually am when in truth, I just want to get to know you better.

Don't be sad. I don't want you to be sad. Was I an asshole? I never meant to be one. Trust me.

Do you trust me?

Yours Forever,

Your hopeless romantic

Pile 2: "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?"

This is someone who has dark features. Might have brown hair. They come off as someone who has dazzling green/hazel or brown eyes. They are HANDSOME. You think of them in a handsome light. Their dress style might enchant you daily. Everytime you receive pictures of them or see them you might just think highly of their aesthetic. They're giving stronger masculine vibes or someone who has a dominant personality.

Babes,

Look I never meant to fall for you. I think my guides never saw 'me' falling for you. But I did. I was thrown into this abyss of feelings that I had long forgotten or long thought I could not feel anymore. I keep being disappointed in life but you have never disappointed me. I like that. I like that about you.

You and I talk or we don't. It's like that. I know it is. Because I keep you far away from me when I need time to make a decision. When I need to fix my shit. When I need to fix my issues. I have many of them. I don't need an angel like you to come into that mess. I don't want you to see a mess or see me as a mess. I need you to understand that I'm getting better. Really, I am. I thought I told you that, before, didn't I?

My life can never be just us. It's everything. It's mostly my family, my job, my friends. It's everything. I am always at the center of it and sometimes that makes me anxious. My friends drag me into shit you may not like. I might hurt your ideas about me when I do stuff like that, or I might be repugnant but it's just who I am, all right?

I can't be with someone who will hold me back. I am not saying you do this, but I hope that you will understand I don't really know how to be in a relationship that isn't going to end in destruction so I will put this lightly: don't give me the steer. I need you to say what you need to say and be as expressive as possible to keep me there with you. Maybe I like you, maybe I don't, I don't even know this myself.

See my guides want me to stop questioning my life. They want me to stop being such a fuck, maybe I do too. When I talk to you or when I think of you, I think of what of a redemption arc that would be for me? I know that sounds weird, but I think of how I could do 'right' by you.

So, technically, no, I don't want you to crush on me because I would not deserve you. But I also want you to be with me because I want to have you. Does that make me an asshole? I suppose it does.

Look, I know how to get you on your knees. I know how to kiss you, I'm experienced, I know. I know where to push your button, what to flirt, what to say, I do this naturally. It's like god gave me one gift and it's flirting without actually intending to flirt.

I get in a lot of trouble for that.

Like you for instance. You're my trouble. You're my death. You are the one person I can't get off my mind and it bothers me because I can't come forward to you and give you this sorry excuse of a person that I am right now. I really can't. Will you forgive me for not saying anything? If you ask me about my feelings, my love, I will most likely just ignore it or just be rude. I know, I can't have you.

You do NOT deserve me. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to want me, yet I do. Yet I thrive on it. Yet I am so sick that I would get off on it. I want you to want me, it's a game, alright? It's a game. I thrive on the thrill. I thrive on chasing. I thrive on flirting. This is a mad world and you're making it worse.

If you'd give me a chance, if by some miracle you'd be able to tame the fucktard that I am, would you be able to put up with my non-commital energy? Would you? See, you don't want this. I know you do.

My guides don't want this for you.

I'm sorry,

Your idiot.

Pile 3: “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.”

Your person is very feminine. I see someone who is shy, gives off introverted vibes or might just be a person who doesn't express what's going on with them all the time. They have a hard time texting others first, they might wait on texts instead. I feel like they are someone who thinks fondly of you.

Mr/Mrs *insert your name*,

I didn't know it could feel like this. Ha, who would've thought that, ME of all people would like you like some childish crush, though, the child in me still dreams of my shining knight. Are you that person? My shining hero, you might think I read too much fantasy novels or that I'm too obsessed with that one band, haha, I know, I am. I may talk too much about my one interest because It's all I think of. It's where I want to be, want to dream of, it's where my mind wanders and what keeps me occupied. I know you're not like that, or maybe you are, but you don't show it that easily.

I do like you. There, I said it. I want to be polite. I want to court you properly, when I do gather the courage to actually do that. I feel like somehow you might be the one person for me. Therefore, I find you irresistable. Because of that connection between us. We might already be friends, or well, we hang around one another, but I think you and I could be something more.

It had to be you. It just had to be you. That's what Barbra Streisand sings in the song "It had to be you" with Michael Bublé. I am on a cloud. Because I dream too much, I might seem like I am zoning out at times. That's what you do to me. You make me zone out and dream of many things. Sometimes my mind wanders back to those idols though, haha, or my favourite celebrities or games or book characters. But it mostly is you.

I would like to tell you how you inspire me. I am not an artistic person, but if I was, I would draw you. I would paint you. I would want to paint your soul. Does that sound too weird? Probably. See, when I think of you, I think of how you would be the most perfect thing to be laying beside me. To be holding hands with as we walk through an autumn world forest, to get a hot drink with in the cold winter, to meet up with for lunch or dinner. I think of you kindly, admiring and I hope you don't think I'm coming off too strongly on you because yes, I recipocrate this crush you have on me.

Even if you're not sure if you crush on me, I would not mind. Technically, I'm yours. I want to be yours. I might not be too responsible sometimes, I might not take the lead in things but I promise you that I can do that if you allowed me the time to adjust to you, to being around you, and not just you in my head.

I could ramble on and on about you in my head. I don't have many friends and the people I talk to I do mention you. Sometimes when I see something that reminds me of you, like something I see in a store window and I am like, you would like that shit, I'm almost tempted to buy it as a gift. I like gift giving. But I am bad with receiving it. I would really like if we could give each other book or song recommendations, maybe exchange poems. I secretly would give you a poem that explains my feelings for you, not going to lie about that.

Yeah, that's what it is. I sometimes feel like I have no appetite. I don't want to eat when I think of you. I can't get my head straight some days. And then I just focus only on stories. Books. My interests. I would like to get to know your interests too. Sometimes I worry that I am not good enough for you. Or that you would not want me. It keeps me silent. Truly.

It's stupid, I know. I might not come from a good background. My family life was not something that brought me joy and that kept me in my books and my internal world. Or it was my school but I hope that you might want to be my family.

Or is that too much? I'll convince you of how great that would be. :)

Yours truly,

*insert their name*

Pile 4: “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.”

This is a soft masculine energy. He comes off hard on the outside. I am getting a definite 'he' but it could also be someone that is considered a butch energy, has macho energy or a person with very masculine energy. Technically it doesn't matter but this person has a message for you and it's coming. :) They're a bit mysterious.

My Destiny.

You feel like my destiny. You know I am a religious person, I think a certain way about life that might be philosophical, it might be faith, it just is my faith. I want you to know that when you're not around, I think of you as special. The song, I am a Creep, by radiohead, you like that one don't you?

Why do I have the feeling that you're after the bad guy. That you're after someone who looks dangerous, could be dangerous and that I would be that person for you. Why do you give me those eyes? That stare? That smirk? You're playing coy but I know that you fantasize about me like I am some devil in the sheets.

I really am not. *Snort*. Truly, you'll think of me less than that. Sometimes I worry that you think of me in a way where you're making this up. About me, information just gets distorted or you make something up in your mind that doesn't truly fit my personality. I would say that I don't mind you doing this, I think it's kind off cute. I think you're cute.

Some days, I wonder what you're doing. Only some days. Like those moments when it's night, you're sitting on the couch or in the tub and I am contemplating what to do now that my phone died (I might just be addicted to my phone) and I think of you in those moments of disconnect. I can watch the moon or I can look up at the nightsky and wonder if you're my person.

I like witches. Eh, did I say that? Yep. You're like a witch to me. Not in a bad way, more like in the way that "I know my girlfirend is a witch" vibe. You are mysterious to me. Something about you that I can't pinpoint my finger on. Something mysterious. It draws me in, but at the same time I don't want to be drawn in by you.

It's a push and pull with my feelings of my heart and my body and my mind. It's like this, I don't think you fit in my ordinairy life. You should do something with someone that fits your life. We might just be dating other people or you might feel unavailable emotionally to me, which is something I can't help but only you can, truly.

Still... I do think of you softly. In the quiet moments. My mind lingers on you. You're my favourite happy place where my thoughts can wander to. My favourite thing to relax, I don't know maybe your body is too. You know how I would love to relax with you, sweaty, together and being intimate in a way that makes you blush if I would ever talk about it nonchalantly in public day light.

I'd like to take you to a restaurant. You'd like that, huh? I know, I am smug when I think I know something about you but truly, i'm just a clueless fool wanting your attention when all but nothing you're just this goddess that could ruin me if you tried.

You don't even have to try, truly. I'm already broken, that's my secret.

I don't fear breaking my heart. So, if you do want to chase this? Chase me, darling.

I am ready.

But, let me say one more thing before I end this message. That dress, those trousers, that favourite clothing item you own, the one that looks comfortable, but isn't? Ehm, yeah, I have thought about you in that exact piece and eh- shamefully have fantasies about you wearing that fucking thing. Sorry, I get carried away when it's you, I really do.

You didn't expect this, did you? I know you think me the person you'd think is your type but you might need to re-arrange your expectations about me. I will disappoint you, I know that I will, I can't do nothing right in my life, why would I do right by you?

I sound like I hate myself. Perhaps I do.

Will you love me then, honey?

You know who I am.

Thankyou for reading this pick a card! I hope the message resonates and that you're able to enjoy this little crush reveal or did not enjoy this crush disappointment. The energies were very different and some messages aren't entirely the same but take whatever resonates, not what doesn't, if your gut feeling says those words weren't from your crush or s/o then they're not.

All the love, elias.

[666writingcafe]

An Interview With Lucifer

Part Three of A New Series

Question One: How do your friends describe you in a word?

Cranky.

Question Two: Who would you want to be stuck with on an island?

If I was limited to just one person, then MC. If there were multiple people, I'd add Mammon and Barbatos.

Question Three: What are you hiding now?

Treats from Cerberus. Not because he isn't a good dog, but because he's found their original hiding place and has been digging into them constantly, and the treats I give Cerberus are rather expensive, so I can't exactly afford to buy them every day and ensure that other stuff gets paid for.

Question Four: Do you prefer mountains or beaches?

It depends on my mood. If I don't want anyone to find me, then definitely mountains, but if I'm feeling a bit romantic, then I'd hit the beach.

Question Five: What is your hidden talent?

I can juggle. And I don't mean that in the metaphorical sense--although I can do that too--but in the literal sense, like a circus clown. It's one of the ways I relieve stress, because I can just shut my brain off and focus on keeping the objects I'm juggling up in the air.

Question Six: What makes you laugh?

You'll get a satisfied chuckle out of me whenever someone I dislike gets what they deserve, but if you want to hear a true, unrestrained laugh, either get me drunk on Demonus or put me in a room with MC when they're in a good mood.

Question Seven: If you were a thing, what would you be?

A metronome.

Question Eight: If you have no GPS, how would you find your destination?

I'd print out directions. (But what if you were unable to do that?) Then I'd ask the locals where I need to go. I may be the Avatar of Pride, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to admit when I'm lost. (someone yells out, "that's a lie, and you know it!") And if all else fails, then I'll get to my destination through sheer determination.

Question Nine: Describe your three best qualities.

Apparently I'm patient, kind, and loving. (Why do you phrase it like that?) Because I wouldn't necessarily call myself any of those things, but I trust that the person who did wouldn't lie to me about such things. (And who might that person be?) MC.

Question Ten: Would you consider yourself a cool person?

I'm going to lean towards no. I'm far from being a trendy person. Just ask any of my brothers. (What about MC?) You'll have to ask them. I know they like spending time with me, but I honestly don't know why. Usually I'm busy with paperwork, and it's not like that's terribly interesting.

Question Eleven: What is a skill you want to master?

Baking.

Question Twelve: What would you do first if you won a human world jackpot?

Pay off any debts MC may have.

Question Thirteen: What one aspect of the human world would you change if you could?

I'd make it legal to punish animal and child abusers by inflicting the same types of torture onto them as they did on their victims. (That's rather serious, Lucifer.) So is abusing those that are unable to understand why their supposed family is hurting them.

Question Fourteen: What is your preferred card or board game?

Let's just say that I'm not allowed to play any tabletop fantasy games unless I can ensure that all of my work is complete. (Why's that?) You've met Levi, yes? (I have.) Now, imagine me behaving like him, and you'll have your answer.

Question Fifteen: What is your current favorite app on your phone?

Don't make fun of me, but there's this app where you can send messages to people and it shows up on their phone in a cartoony heart. (Are you talking about the viral Candy Heart app?) ...yes. (That's actually quite sweet.) It was MC's idea, and I initially did downloaded it just to amuse them, but I've come to enjoy using it as time has gone on.

Question Sixteen: Would you go to space if you could?

I'm content with merely looking at pictures of space.

Question Seventeen: What kind of museum or exhibit do you prefer?

I like learning about the history of different objects. Looking at their evolution fascinates me.

Question Eighteen: What kind of humor do you prefer?

I'll throw you a curve ball: I enjoy a nice pun from time to time, even if it would be classified as a "dad joke".

Question Nineteen: Do you prefer driving a car, a motorcycle, or a bicycle?

Oh, a motorcycle, by far.

Question Twenty: When was the last time you climbed a tree?

This is going to really show my age, but the last time I climbed a tree was when I was a young angel. *pauses* Thinking about it is making me want to do it now. Being up in the branches is quite peaceful.

Question Twenty-One: What is your strangest habit?

There are times where the only way I'm able to fall asleep is to hang upside-down like a bat.

Question Twenty-Two: What is your weirdest fantasy?

I'll give you an oddly specific one: if I'm ever able to retire, I'd like to buy a farm somewhere in the human world countryside and raise livestock and plant fruits and vegetables with MC. (You've brought them up several times in this interview.) You could say that I have a soft spot for them. (Or that you love them.) Well, obviously. They're a wonderful person to be around. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with them if I could. (You mean, their life.) Listen, I don't choose my words lightly. What I say is what I mean, one hundred percent.

Question Twenty-Three: Here's something a bit more light-hearted: would you rather fight a shark or wrestle a lion?

The lion. I can't swim nearly as well as Levi can.

Question Twenty-Four: How do you want the world to end?

By my hand.

Question Twenty-Five: Would you like to be shorter or taller?

I like my height just the way it is. (What if you had to choose one or the other?) Then I suppose taller. I don't feel I'd be able to intimidate people as well if I was shorter.

Question Twenty-Six: Who is the annoying person you want to get rid of in your life?

I don't necessarily want to get rid of anyone, but I'd like to seriously alter the behaviors of Solomon and Mephistopheles.

Question Twenty-Seven: Which artist and/or song dominates your human world music playlist?

I'll give you both: Metallica and "Adore You" by Harry Styles.

Question Twenty-Eight: If you had to go to prison, what would be the reason?

Treason.

Question Twenty-Nine: What is the most critical trait you seek in a friend?

They have to be able to keep secrets.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

[billthedrake]

This one I started a few months ago but didn’t get too far yet. It started off as a spinoff of Dads I’d Like to Fuck and took on a life of its own.

THE SPORTS ILLUSTRATED JINX

Doing that cover was how I met my partner, my first one at least.

The Sports Illustrated issue had just dropped. A big cover photo of me, looking serious and posting with my bat, and the words "Miracle Worker" in big letters over my image. I was winding down my rookie season in the majors at the age of 21 and had exceeded high expectations. Life was good.

"Don't pay any attention to that jinx business," a man said as I was out a high-end steakhouse after a game, enjoying a drink in the bar area. "It's all bullshit."

The man was my type to a T. Late 40s, sturdy build, some gray in his medium-length hair, masculine dad-next-door looks. I am often guarded in public, but I gave him a big smile.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I sure hope so."

This man had an easy way about him. Confident, but not overly so. "It's definitely BS," he added. "Look at Trout. Didn't hurt his career one bit." His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked, and I had to wonder if I was reading too much interest in them. Sexual interest. "But you don't need me to tell ya that, man."

I shrugged. "Well given how many people have brought up that fucking jinx," I said, "it's nice to hear a different point of view." I extended my hand. "Luke... nice to meet you." I mean, the guy clearly knew who I was, but I wanted to know who he was.

"Dan Ogle," he said, as he clasped my hand with an equally strong grip. In baseball you judge a man by his handshake. Dan was used to being judged. "It's an honor to meet you."

"You in the business?" I ventured.

"It shows?" he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a scout. Was with the Orioles organization and now work independent."

"Smart move," I quipped. "The Orioles seem a mess lately."

"Ouch," he laughed harder. "That's tough, man." He gave my shoulder a friendly, gladhanding pat for a second. "Listen... I'm here to meet an agent buddy of mine..."

Something about his eye contact made me wonder if I could make a move. "Let me give you my number, Dan," I said.

The way his eyes lit up said I'd made the right call. Maybe he was just star struck. But I'd work that in my favor if it meant seeing more of that sun-weathered face and those sea-blue eyes. He pulled out his phone, and I told him my number.

****

The first drinks I grabbed with the guy was basically a date. We didn't call it that. But we made the usual small talk. Dan knew a lot more about me than I did about him. So I had him tell me his bio. He'd played in the majors a few years and got into the coaching side in some single-A team. Was frustrated by the lack of opportunities there so went into scouting. Was married once, no kids, divorced at 38.

I talked more about what it was like to be a star. Even if Dan Ogle was never a magazine-cover caliber player, he understood me. The benefits of being idolized and famous, and the drawbacks. I didn't talk about the latter with a lot of guys, but I felt I could with this pro-ball veteran.

Our eye contact got heavier as we talked. Like we knew what we were dancing around without coming out and saying it. Finally, I asked, "So, Dan... you able to be discreet?"

Without missing a beat he nodded. "Oh yeah. Absolutely." Those sea blue eyes staring back at me, with clear expectation.

"It's been a couple of months since I've gotten laid," I said, laying my cards on the table.

He let out a playful whistle. "Way too long, Luke."

"What about you?" I asked, finally nudging his knee under the bar. This was gonna happen, and I knew, and I was throwing hard in anticipation.

"About the same," he smirked.

"We should go fix that," I hissed.

"Now?" It wasn't a question of surprise. More, Dan was trying to read what was on my mind.

"If you're up for it... yeah, now." I knew my voice was getting that horny edge to it.

We settled up our check and I went over to Dan's hotel room. I wondered if we were going to have more conversation, maybe figure out what each other was into sexually. I was strictly top or into getting serviced. I normally got my way, but sometimes older guys think it should be the other way around.

But we didn't talk. Instead we met for a kiss as we rapidly stripped off our clothes. I'd barely unbuttoned my jeans when Dan crouched down in front of me, pawing my crotch and reaching in to pull out my cock.

"Damn, that's a big dick," he gasped. And then revealing he did not find that a problem in the least, the middle-aged ex-jock leaned forward and started sucking me.

"Holy shit!" I laughed. I wasn't 100% surprised Dan Ogle sucked cock. After all, I'd met up with older guys who liked to fool around. But I was surprised he was so into it, so good at it. He sucked me fast and hard, like it was his last cock ever. I didn't think that the almost rough sucking would feel good, but it was incredible. Those long fast mouth strokes and that heavy suction were gonna get me to nut, too soon.

"Ease up, man!" I gasped. "I'm almost cumming."

The veteran ex-jock spit out my prick and sucked in some air, as he swallowed that excess spit. "Yeah?" he teased, now hand stroking my bat. "What would be wrong with that?" The man was horny, and I loved how thrilled he seemed to be about sex. No hang ups whatsoever. That was a first for me, actually.

"Come on, man," I almost complained. "Let me at least feel up your body for a bit, you know... enjoy this some."

That took Ogle by surprise. I think he thought I'd just want to shut my eyes and use his mouth or something. Maybe that's what dudes like me had done before with him. Leaning back, he showed off his bare chest. "Didn't think you'd be into all this, man," he smiled.

"You have no fucking idea," I growled. I could unload my daddy issues on Dan later and tell him how I was wired for men over 40, but for now, I just wanted that physical contact with that more mature muscle. "Let's get on the bed," I urged.

I stripped off the rest of the way and ate up the way Dan's eyes feasted on my nakedness and my erect state. Maybe it was the ego boost he needed to strip down all the way and almost pose for me as he got on the bed. His body wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn nice. Strong muscle, just the right amount of hair, amazing legs. Dan had been a catcher back when he played.

His body felt hot to the touch when we embraced. He was a good kisser and seemed to get into the sensual, slow approach. I matched his speed, even as I was horny as fuck and leaking against his furry belly. We made out and rolled around some, and I ended up on top of him. Heart pounding against his chest and his strong grip feeling up my lat muscle.

When I pulled back from our lip lock the 40-something scout had need in his eye. "You wanna be in me, Luke?" he asked softly.

"Hell yes," I growled.

He smiled. "I got some lube in my bag in the bathroom, if you wanna get it. Rubbers if you want, too."

I hoisted my athletic body out of bed and went to get the stuff, my dick sticking straight out like a divining rod. The stuff was easy to find. Indeed next to the small lube bottle there were two foil packets. I loved that a man like Dan came prepared.

I didn't take a condom, though, and I could read Ogle's silent excitement as he saw me empty handed other than the lube. I flipped the cap and squirted the slickness onto my fingers as I got up on the bed. Any other time, I'd enjoy more foreplay and rim him out some. I loved eating ass, and an ex-catcher daddy would be one hell of a feast. But I needed to fuck.

He hissed at the first finger but the second went in like butter. Dan Ogle wasn't a slut bottom, but this wasn't his first rodeo. As I lined up my cock, I was excited to be topping such a hot guy. It was still sinking in that I was a lucky bastard.

"That's good," Dan said softly as I pushed in. His sea blues were looking up, and he was nodding slightly as I pushed on. I knew why. He was tight as fuck and he knew I wouldn't be able to read if he was good to go. Thankfully, he was.

"You have an amazing ass," I grunted as I bottomed out. He was hot and snug and his insides felt alive around my cock.

Dan was horned up, and his dick twitched on his furry belly. He had some love handles but otherwise was total DILF. "I can't believe you're here fucking me," he almost laughed.

I held my body steady for him, his legs on my shoulders. "You ever fantasize about me?"

"Didn't dream to," he admitted.

"But a player like me, right?" I nudged him mentally. "You always wanted to get nailed by a guy like me." That second part was now statement, not a question.

"Jesus," Dan growled, a deep belly growl. "Fuck yes."

"You got it, man," I said and just started fucking. Not hard, but it was a deep steady fuck and I was hung enough for him to feel it.

He stroked as I railed him then let go when he was getting too close.

"Go ahead," I urged. "I'm pretty close, too."

I watched him stroke and I watched his hand work up his pleasure in tandem with the internal stimulation I was giving him. Then I watched the 40-something ex-catcher spew his pearly white seed all over that gorgeous daddy fur.

"FUCK!" I grunted and felt my own cum rising up, all of a sudden. Two months was a long time between lays. I held his legs tightly and humped his ass with a couple of final fast strokes.

I was flush red and breathing fast as I came down. Dan laughed at me some, and I laughed with him. "I needed that, buddy," I said, giving his meaty chest a playful dual fist bump before I leaned back and slowly pulled out.

I had to watch the slight creampie in his hole before it shut back up. A conquest trophy.

"I could tell," Dan grinned as he lowered his legs and shook out the stiffness. "I don't normally like it missionary, but that was hot as fuck."

I grinned, plopping down on the bed. "It was."

Dan gave me one last look, like he still couldn't believe his luck and still couldn't believe this happened. I got that look a lot, and I always ate it up. "Gonna shower off," he announced.

He was back to normal when he got back. A little quiet, maybe moody. I didn't know his deal, but I wasn't gonna find out. I took a piss and got dressed.

"Take care, man," I said as I got ready to leave. He was on his phone, checking on texts or something.

He looked up. "Yeah. Have a good one."

I got the message. One time thing. OK by me. I was a player, a hunter, always onto the next lay. One time things were my MO.

Only the next morning I awoke to a text. Dan Ogle's text, sent fifteen minutes earlier. "I got an 11AM plane to catch. But maybe I can interest you in a morning BJ before I go?"

I texted him a thumbs up and my hotel and room number.

****

It's not as easy having groupie sex when you're into guys as when you're straight. But it happens for me far more than you'd imagine. I just have to be cautious with my approach, feel a guy out. The thing is, if a guy has a remote bi-curious streak, it's almost a sure thing that a star athlete will be able to exploit it. The star struck thing goes a long fucking way, and guys felt excited to be close to me. Even if only for an hour or a night, they were getting one-on-one Luke Fulton time.

My first groupie was when I was still in the minors. But I was clearly a top prospect in the farm system and come Spring Training I had a chance to practice and play with the big league guys.

I was gathering up my stuff after an afternoon game versus the Tigers when I saw him. A few of the guys would meet with fans after, but this man seemed to be waiting for me. He was very much a typical corporate looking dude. Medium height, golf shirt, golf tan, khaki shorts, ball cap, expensive watch, dad sneakers. Meaty dadbod build filling it all out and looking pretty good for a man in his 50s.

"Hi Luke," he said, polite but also forward. "Can I get your autograph?"

That was my first request for one, actually. I smiled. "Yeah?" I said, registering my surprise. "Um, sure."

I walked up and set down my bag. He handed me a pad and a pen. "You're gonna be the biggest star," he said, referencing the pro team name whose roster I was vying for. His gaze was on me, like he was trying to memorize the whole encounter for later. That was my first taste of groupies, the way they might not even be showing sexual interest but they clearly are into me and being around me.

"I'm not 21 yet," I reminded him.

"Well, I've been watching your progress. Ever since the draft." OK, Corporate Dude was one of THOSE fans.

"Who should I make this out to?" I asked, maintaining equally heavy eye contact. Corporate Daddy was good looking in a normal way, and that turned me on, too. He reminded me of the men in my hometown. I even flashed a wink, nothing too over the top, but doing as much flirting as I dared.

"Jim," he said. "God..." he continued as he watched me write my dedication and sign my name. "This is really cool."

I looked up and flashed my grin. "Isn't this what you come to Spring Training for?" I asked. "To meet the players?" Maybe I was starting to lay it on thick.

Jim was gung ho, though. "It's my second year here, but yeah... the chance to talk to you guys is incredible."

His eye contact was heavy and his wedding band made me think he wasn't the blabbing type. I still consider a band the best insurance when hitting on a guy. I took another paper out of that pad and wrote my number on it.

The man seemed embarrassed. "What's that for?" He asked.

Goddamnit. I guess I misjudged. "Never mind," I said, maybe a little curtly. After all, it wasn't any guy I gave my number. I started to grab the paper back.

He blushed, getting it, really getting. "Oh. That's cool, that's man. I'll keep it. If that's OK."

I nodded. "Just keep it private, OK?" I meant my number but also the fact that I'd given it to him.

"Oh yeah," he said.

I gave him one more wink and picked up my bag to walk back to the locker room.

It was an hour later when I got a text. "Hey. It's Jim. Thanks for giving me your number."

"Thanks for using it," I typed back. I was hanging out with some of the guys from the team, about to get some dinner.

I didn't hear back for a few minutes, then I got another text. "I don't normally do this kind of thing."

"It's cool man. I don't bite. No strings no expectations." I didn't have my mojo down, but I knew with a guy like this corporate dad you had to reassure him.

"What are you looking for?" I could almost sense his nervousness on his end.

"That's something better talked about in person," I wrote.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. Then "I'm around all week."

"Tonight?" I wrote. "9?"

"Yes."

He gave me his hotel info, which worked better. I was in a good mood when I showed up and gave a soft knock.

Jim had a nervous, naughty look as he ushered me in. "Hey..." he said as he shut the door behind me. "I shouldn't be doing this."

I got it. I'd met married men with misgivings before, but none as strong as this man's.

I paused and looked at him, giving him my best friendly expression. Giving him an out. "It's up to you, man. I'm not gonna pressure you."

He thought for a second. It was like I knew what he was thinking. Wondering if he'd ever get another chance at this. "I wanna," he replied.

"Cool," I said and stepped up to him. I'm used to seeing athletes and coaches all day, so sometimes a normal build like Jim's pales in comparison. But now that I was there, up close, he looked pretty damn fine. My hand touched his chest through his golf shirt and moved down to feel up his sides. I drew him closer to me, being forward now to claim a kiss off him.

He grunted as our lips met. I slipped my tongue forward and felt his excitement grow as his lips part and accepted it. We made out for a minute, which is the surest way to get my motor running. I was rock hard now, for sure.

I pulled back and examined his handsome face. "I guess I should have asked if you kissed," I said.

He exhaled a breath he'd been holding. "Yeah... that was my first kiss with a man, actually."

I cocked a grin. "Whaddya think?"

"'s pretty wild," he answered honestly. "But good."

My fingers now caressed his side, and I could sense he was getting majorly hard, too. "You done anything with a guy?" I needed to know where I stood.

He shook his head. "Back in college. You know some fooling around with fraternity brothers. A couple of blow jobs, that kind of thing."

I cocked my eyebrow. "You ever give one?"

Jim blushed some, making his reddish tan redder. "Yeah... it was years ago."

I pulled him closer to me, so he could feel my hardon against his own. "I'd very much enjoy getting one, man... if you're up for it." He was warming up to the idea, I could tell, but I wanted to head off any hesitation. "It's just us here. No one's gonna know."

"I don't know if I'm any good," he objected.

I moved my hand up and patted his shoulder. "Trust me, I'll love it." I didn't throw in a "pretty, please," but I was being as gradual and coaxing as I knew how to be. "Come on, why don't you sit on the bed?"

He nodded and stepped back from me. He was rock hard in his khaki shorts, which was a good sign. And as he settled on his hotel bed, his look was one of excitement more than nervousness.

I didn't want to spook him, but I was getting crazy horny. Jim was pushing my buttons big time. I stepped up till I stood about a foot in front of him. Then slowly, I undid my shorts and pulled out my boner.

Some guys comment on my size when they first see my endowment, but Jim just silently watched, eyes going wide.

"It's OK, bud," I assured him. "Just take what you feel comfortable with." I scooted closer so my hardon was an inch or so away from him. His licks were tentative, then less so. I could sense the novelty for him, and the thrill that came with that. I knew this was the last thing he expected to be doing on this trip.

"You've done this before, man," I urged. "You got this."

He nodded and then opened his lips to take me in. He bobbed up and down on a few inches. Jim wasn't lying. He wasn't any good at this. But I loved the feeling of his warm mouth and the wet tongue against my steel-hard dick. And I loved the rush of seeing this regular married daddy servicing me. I let him do his thing for a minute then spoke again.

"Feels nice," I encouraged him. Then, "Just suck me like you enjoy being sucked, man."

That seemed to make something click for him, and he adjusted his blowjob. Jim wasn't gonna be a pro cocksucker any time soon, but THIS was a lot better. He flenched when my hand touched his hair, but when he realized I was just gonna stroke his head in encouragement he relaxed back into it.

"Take your time, bud," I hissed, spreading my stance a little. "Takes me a good couple of minutes to work up a head of steam. But this feels awesome."

It did, and the physical sensations were starting to build up. But I also imagined this guy sucking dudes back home, showing off what he'd learned on me. That was the trigger that got me off.

"You better swallow, man," I growled. Mr. Easygoing was gone. I didn't want him pulling off. Maybe my fingers curled around the back of his head to keep him from retreating.

He grunted. Agreement, I guess. But he kept sucking as I spurted into his craw. I heard a choked sound, but it wasn't an actual choking. Mostly a grunt of excitement as he tasted, then swallowed, as fast I was pumping more sperm into his mouth and throat.

"Damn, that was nice," I hissed as I let go of his head and finally stepped back out of his sucking mouth.

"Did I do OK?" he asked, voice thick with my cum still. Something about that question was adorable and exciting both.

I smiled. "Fuck yea you did." I nodded down to his hard crotch. "You need to get off?"

He unzipped. Clearly, sucking me had worked him up. He spit into his palm and I watched him start pulling his pud. It wasn't gonna take him long, not from the excited look in his eyes and the fast fist motion. I stepped closer and let my dong sway in front of his face.

That got him going. "You got a great cock," he admitted.

"And you sucked it," I reminded him.

"Yes," he grunted, and like that he was cumming.

"That's it, man," I urged.

Our release complete, I stepped back and tucked back in as he wiped himself with a Kleenex. His mood shifted some.

"We good man?" I asked. He could have all the guilt pangs he wanted, but I didn't want a full-on freak out.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks for that.... I'm gonna remember that for a long while."

"If you wanna make some more memories this week, you know where to reach me."

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm in this if you are (Lance Stroll)

Lance wants to show you how wonderful love can be

Note: english is not my first language. this is a long piece that I hope will keep the interactions back up (I love getting your requests and overall having you interact with the posts and having some random thoughts shared too!), so I hope you enjoy this piece as this is my first Lance request * nervous giggles *

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

Tw: mentions (bad) past relationships, curse words

my masterlist

"Is it okay if we meet up at the park instead?", you suggested to Lance over the phone, "it's only a five minute walk from work for me", earning an affirmative answer on the other side of the line as well as a farewell.

Packing your backpack with your laptop and a book you had to bring home for the weekend, switching everything off and ringing your card so you could get yourself out, heading for the park Lance was meeting you at.

It was something new, so you were being cautious. After all, you had fallen for people before who weren't good for you in the end, so you had learnt to keep your distance. But did you hope that maybe this time it would be different. The Canadian young man and you have been spending some time together after meeting through a mutual friend, and today was no different since he had texted you earlier if you would be up for a stroll in the park after you were done from work, having you accept it and even letting yourself feel giddy about it.

Following the directions he gave you, you saw him sitting in the bench like he had told you, getting up once he saw you and coming closer to you, "Hi, how are you?", he said, giving you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Hi, I've been good, very happy that it's Friday so I get the to be home for the weekend. And you, busy day?", you greeted him back and continuing to walk alongside him, "yeah, the meeting was about the last few things we need to sort out before the race next weekend, so it got a bit longer than I expected but it was all good, means I didn't have to wait too long for you, but I did get you these", he said, showing you a small white paper bag, leaving you to open it.

The small sticker that closed the bag was enough to get you to gasp, recognising your favourite bakery chain's logo, "you say they always run out in the shop they have near your office, so I dropped by the one close to the factory to see if they had some and they did", Lance smiled, seeing you smile back at him, "thank you! Do you want to go and enjoy these by the lake?", you suggested, seeing that it wasn't too busy around there.

Sitting down on the dry grass, you and Lance sat in front of eachother, talking about your day and laughing at funny moments from eachother's day while sharing the croissants he had gotten, "thank you, again, you didn't have to", you pointed to the empty bag, whisking any crumbs away from your lips and clothes, "it was only fair that I got to try "the best croissants ever" according to you, and since I had some time to kill before I met you here, and it is always a pleasure to see your eyes sparkle like that", he said softly, noticing the blush on your cheeks and your shyness coming through, taking the hint to keep talking, "and a croissant like this after a long meeting and at a park like this with this company, there's not much more than I want".

.

You were dancing around in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil so you could put the pasta in, singing to the lyrics before you phone stopped the song and instead made the sound of an incoming FaceTime call, seeing Lance's contact on your screen. "Hi Lance!", you greeted, waving at the screen, "Hey, you, am I catching you at a bad time?", he asked, lighting what looked like a nightsand lamp, "Just making dinner. Is this a good time for you though? You look like you're going to sleep", you cringed, propping your phone since one of the glss containers you had on your counter top so you could put the pasta in and still she Lance while he saw you in shot too, "I wanted to talk to you", he mused, "I saw your text, but they needed me to fix something on the steering wheel and just to be sure I called now because I was afraid you'd be working still and I would interrupt it", he reasoned.

Hoping the LED light that illuminated your working area in the kitchen hid your blushing cheeks, you managed to reply, "I was just checking in with you, seeing how it went. Aren't you tired or in need of sleep? We can talk another day, it's fine", you admitted, even though deep down you were enjoying his (virtual) company, especially seeing him like this, tucked into bed in his pyjamas and looking so handsome and soft, "I'm okay, don't worry", he yawned, "so, what are you cooking?".

Conversation flowed while you cut the vegetables so you could cook them in the pan, sharing the recipe with Lance and coming closer to the phone whenever you were letting things cook on their own, supporting your face on the palms of your hands while your elbows rested on the counter top, doing one final move to plate your pasta, "uhh, that looks good!", Lance exclaimed, seeing you top the dish with some cheese, "it usually tastes good, yeah, and it's also very quick to make. I began just when we started this call and we've been here for- oh, we've been here for nearly an hour! Lance, you could've told me! You probably need to sleep, I'm sorry that I kept you here!", you apologised, guilt overcoming your whole body. You truly didn't think you had been on call with Lance for such a long time, it was truly flowing and, above anything, feeling comfortable.

"You don't have to apoligise, I stayed here because I wanted to be with you and spend time with you, unless you're apologising because I bothered you", he hinted, "No! No, not at all, I loved sort of having you here with me", you hurriedly clarified, "I just didn't want to bother you or your sleep routine, it's really late where you are", you shot him another apologetic look, "I said none of that, no apologising for this anymore. I enjoyed having you here with me too", he smiled softly, "but if I don't go to sleep soon, tomorrow is going to hurt", he reasoned.

Sitting by your table, you propped the phone again against your bottle of water, "sleep is very important, Lanc-", you were interrupted by him, "but I need to know if the pasta is delicious or not, it's only fair", he winked as you rolled your fork on the plate, grabbing bit of everything and trying it, "it's amazing, I can confirm", you said, "you look like a little chipmunk, and your dimple is showing too. Totally worth it staying up this late", he complimented, leaving you to bid him goodbye, "goodnight Lance, have a good sleep", you whispered, switching off the call when Lance gave you the same wishes, giddily smiling at your pasta at his attentiveness, allowing yourself to be swept off your feet.

.

"Was it as good as your pasta, though?", Lance asked you as you walked along the city streets after leaving the restaurant where you had dinner. The small and cosy local restaurant was perfect for another date with Lance, your hand latched in his since you left the restaurant after thanking the owner for a great evening, "I'm not a professional, so this one was better, but my own has potential too, you know?", you giggled, allowing yourself to lean a little bit on Lance, pulling your bodies closer to one another, making him also feel your own easiness around him, which he appreciated. From the moment he met you, he knew you wouldn't be swept off your feet with elaborate dinner dates and fancy invitations to lavish places. Above anything, he noticed you were cautious, not that he thought that you were expecting him to do you any physical harm, but because maybe you had been emotionally hurt before. Because of that, Lance made it his mission to show you what love could be like, how beautiful and how simple two people who care about eachother could develop into something more.

Seeing a flower peeking out of a house fence, Lance couldn't contain himself and he plucked it, making you stop, "Here, look at me, please", he mumbled, tucking the flower behind your ear carefully, his eyes boring into yours, "I really like you, Y/N", he confessed, "and I won't pressure you into anything, I can wait. Damn, I'll wait forever for you if I have to. But I don't want you to go on without knowing this", he smiled hopefully, not knowing your reaction as he hadn't planned to do it like this.

Cupping his cheek, your thumb ran over his cheek, softly touching the corner of his lips in a silent question to know if he too wanted it before you leaned up to kiss him, pressing your lips in his for a tender kiss, pulling back to see eachother's reaction, only to crash his lips against yours passionately.

"I really like you too", you whispered, afraid to disturb the moment between you, earning a chuckle from Lance, "I should hope so, imagine if you were to tell me now that you despised me after that kiss, I don't think I could handle it", he placed his hand on top of his heart, earning him a small slap on his chest, "I'm trying to be serious with you", you whined, "So am I, Y/N, completely serious. I'm in this if you are", he said as he hugged your, kissing your forehead before kissing your lips again, "I think I found a new favourite thing to do".

.

"So you don't want to go?", Lance questioned, "it's not that I don't want to go and see you do what you love, it's the whole thing, Lance", you murmured, "I'd have to fly out on a different day, I'd have to sleep somewhere, and that whole thing needs to be accounted for, I need to sit down and look properly at all of it", you almost hissed at him, not enjoying the tone it came out of your mouth but going with it nonetheless.

"But I can pay for all of that. I am, in fact, paying for all of that, that's why I'm offering you to come to a race weekend", Lance admitted, frustrated that something so simple for him was causing a fight between you, "and that is one of my problems! I don't want you to have to take care of me like that, I can take of myself, I'm not dependent on anyone and I can do things on my own!", you admitted, voice shaky while you looked at him, "I need a minute, please", you said as you felt your eyes grow wetter, excusing yourself to go to your balcony.

You knew Lance had money, a whole lot of it, so much so that, realistically, you coming along with him to the race would go probably unnoticed in his bank balance, but that didn't mean you were totally comfortable with him paying for everything. You could take care of yourself, now you knew that, despite of years of previous boyfriends telling you it would be hard for you to make it on your own and by your own merit. And you were scared, because was this the way this was going to end? Had you been, yet again, blinded by a guy who wanted you to be what he liked, who wanted to build you to the image he wanted and needed you to depict?

Inside, Lance noticed the cold air coming from the small gap of the door to the balcony that you had left open, imagining how much colder it would be for you, standing outside, looking around in hopes to find what he was looking for.

You heard the door squeak as it opened, thinking to yourself it was just the breeze when you heard footsteps, thinking for a second someone had broken into your house uninvited, "I'd prefer if you didn't have a cold", Lance said softly as he draped a blanket over your shoulders carefully, not missing your stunned expression, "you're still here?", you managed to let out, "I, I thought you were going to leave, I didn't think you'd stay", you stuttered, "Why would I leave?", Lance asked and almost immediately he answered his own question: because that's all you've ever known. When things got complicated, they would leave you. So you naturally thought he would do the same.

"Y/N, I'm not going to leave you when we fight", Lance said, keeping himself close to you, holding himself against the railing, "that is a promise I intend on keeping to you, and I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure that I won't break it", he declared, "Can we talk about it though?".

Holding his hand in yours, you nudged him to sit in one of the chairs you had in your balcony, sitting in front of him so you could express what was on your mind, "this is a bad story from past experiences, so if you still want to make that exit, I promise I'll manage and forget what you just side", you suggested playfully, feeling him squeeze you hand tighter in his own, "I've been in bad relationships before, it probably does not come to a surprise to you, but some things still haunt me years after. I used to have a boyfriend that would get me presents, or he would pay for things, and for a bit a just took it down as he was being nice, but he slowly started offering things in exchange of something, like me changing what I wore because I would wear something he got me instead, or change what I ate, who I spent time with, ans slowly everything he somehow offered turned out to be because he thought I couldn't do it on my own, that I wouldn't ever be able to sustain myself independently, so he thought he might as well "help me" and change who I was in the process", you gulped, "and I only realised it later, when his supposed affection for me was only there when I complied with what he asked of me, and the moment I realised was a constant fight, day in day out, where he left and then he would come back and belittle so much into thinking that it was my fault he would leave and we wouldn't solve anything we were fighting about", you confessed, "breaking up wasn't even the hardest part, but the scars that it left me with are still here, that's why I thought you would leave, because you wouldn't want to hear my side and-, fuck", you wiped a tear that insisted on falling, going back to play with Lance's fingers after, "I love you so much, I care about you so much, and you make me feel things I've never felt before without any conditions", you looked up at him, seeing an expression that was a mixture of sadness, anger and maybe some revolt too.

Lance brought your hands together and kissed them, "thank you for sharing that with me, I appreciate it", he began, "and I'm so sorry that some bastard thought it was okay to treat you like that, because it is not", he squeezed your hands, rubbing his thumb on them, "you deserve to feel all the love in the world without anything in it other that love itself. I get to be loved by you and that is one of my biggest blessings, and I'll be damned if I ever make you feel less loved or less appreciated than you deserve. But that promise I made is true, I want us to always talk about something that we don't see eye to eye on, so we can understand the other's perspective, I don't want to run away from anything", he nodded for you to continue, signalling he was done.

"I'm not from the same social or professional sphere that you are, and that makes me wonder about this whole situation, like there isn't a way that I can keep up with all of that travel on my own", you admitted honestly, "and I don't know how I feel about you covering those costs, like, of course I want to go see you do your thing at the track, and be there to support you, to congratulate you when you win and to hold you when things don't go as well, even if it's not all the time, but all of that seems a lot", you explained the situation to the best of your ability.

"Can I go now?", Lance wondered, his hands still holding yours, "I don't want to sound like a prick, or like I'm flashing everyone of how much I have, but it is also true that I don't mind paying for those things. Truly. And I don't do it because I want some change from you in return. I do it because I am fortunately able to and because I want the people I love with me as much as they're able to", he said, moving his hand to caress your cheek, "I never want you to think for a second that anything that I offer, present you with or pay for is a way of manipulating you", he assured, looking for your own reassurance in your eyes.

You shuffled around in your seat, looking into those beautiful brown eyes you loved so much, "thank you", you smiled through your tears, "you don't have to thank me for loving you, I should be the one thanking you for trusting me and for letting me love you".

[iamqueenpotato]

I Hate That I Love You.

Azriel x Reader

A/N- Honestly this is probably the most I've written consecutively in quite some time, I'm still working on other ideas but I felt angsty and was listening to hate u love u by Olivia O'Brien on repeat so this came to be 🙃 I hope you guys enjoy it! I greatly appreciate all of your guys support, you are seriously the best ❤️

Summary: Y/N has been best friends with Azriel for years, yet she had always hidden her feelings for the shadowsinger, but now she is forced to watch him be in love with someone else.

⚠️: Angst(that is all)

Word Count: 2.3k

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Maybe you were heartbroken because he was the one you cared for the most. And maybe it was because you watched as he fell in love and you became nothing but a forgotten object on a shelf. He was supposed to be your best friend, but things changed. Though you never expected to be one of them.

There is nothing that would make you forget him, but he was happy and you would hate yourself if you said you couldn’t be happy for him. The past you shared was there, and it is something you would cherish in your life forever, but people venture down different paths and he was going somewhere you could not follow. You hated that you wanted him, needed him. But he was the one that showed you a life that you never thought possible. And what life would that be if he no longer was a part of it? It was a thought you never worried you would have. But now it was becoming your reality and you reluctantly accepted it. You didn't have any other option.

You thought constantly of the days the two of you spent talking about ambitions. Your fears. Each moment and secret shared was a gift, but now all you could do was reminisce.

You two had something that you simply will not find with anyone else. The feelings came with time, and you did a good job hiding them, though there were days you thought he felt the same. Yet you were too afraid of ruining that friendship that you cherished. He was your comfort when you had nowhere else to go when those nightmares would threaten to tear you apart. He was always there. Like he said he would be. And you only could hope you were that person to him as well. You could only hope you meant something to him.

But now, watching him create new memories with her, overlooking you and all that you had shared. It pained you to see him. To think about him.

In the past he would seek you out, always asking you to spend the day with him. It all seemed so distant now. And you attempted every day to see him, asking Azriel to help you with your form, or even just to walk around Velaris to talk about anything but with each attempt you were met with rejection, saying that he was busy or that Elain and he had plans. And each time it only caused the heartache to grow.

You tried to forget him. To move on from what your heart ached for so badly. That connection the two of you shared, though there was no mating bond, the thread between you and him seemed it would last forever. But now you knew how wrong you were.

The days had come and gone and you began forcing yourself to ignore everything about him. But it became difficult when you saw him in every single thing that you did. The nights you would play cards with your friends, your mind only drifted to memories of games you and Azriel would sit so close to each other scheming against the rest of the group. How his hand always drifted close to yours, the way it made your heart skip a beat. It was days like those you truly started to believe you were not alone. He brought a certain bliss to you. It was as though that light inside you finally found its source. But even the brightest lights start to dim.

And maybe it wasn't fair to him for you to have such thoughts, to rely on him for so much but your heart was his whether you wanted it to be or not. It was screaming for you to say something, to tell him how you felt, to tell him you missed him. But your mind held the restraints so tightly around your heart because even though it made sense, no matter how badly you wanted him, you could never ruin his happiness. So you had no other choice but to watch as he disappeared from your hold, from your life, your mind.

There was an emptiness in your soul where he used to be. Yet it felt as if you were slowly being replaced. As if he only planned to keep you around until something better came around. You could only watch it happen, he was never yours, and you had no place in his heart as Elain does. The agony of it was heavy and unavoidable.

You hadn’t seen him for weeks now, and the torment of being anywhere near him was becoming too great, the rest of your friends began to notice, and when they asked why you haven’t been around, you would always respond with the same lame excuse of being tired. Though you knew they didn’t believe you, they didn’t pry, and you could thank them for that, you weren’t ready to explain to them that the male you loved dearly was in love with another female. And he doesn’t even know.

Late in the night, you heard a knock on your door, you assumed it was either Mor or Nesta, wanting you to come to drink more, and you were prepared to tell them no thanks. But when you opened the door, hazel eyes greeted you, shadows swarming Azriel’s body like a cloak. Your lips parted in surprise, his entire appearance seemed disheveled. “Why have you been avoiding me?” He questioned.

“I haven’t.” You responded quickly. “I am tired Azriel.” You began to close your door but he slammed his hand against the wood, using his arm to keep it open. You weren’t going to fight it, so you let him in, hoping he’d ignore the mess around your room. You had been too distraught to clean at all.

He closed the door behind him, his shadows illuminated by the fire you had burning. “Are you going to tell me why?” He asked again.

“There is nothing to tell.” You spoke from where you were seated along your bed. You couldn’t look at him, not when he didn’t look at you the same.

“Look at me, Y/N. Ever since Elain and I got together you’ve been acting different-” He started, and that is when you lifted your head to look at him, your jaw clenched, brows furrowed. He had no right to say you were different when he was the one who acted like your friendship was a minuscule thing in his life recently.

“Different?” You spat. You were standing now, fists clenched at your sides. “You have to be kidding.” You laughed bitterly. And Azriel looked at you taken aback by the sudden anger in your voice. “You don’t give a damn about me. At least not anymore.” Your voice was raised, and you figured the louder you were, the emotions that filled your entire being wouldn’t stop the words from spilling out. The ones that needed to be said. “I watched day and night as you sat there staring at her like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen. While I sat there alone, waiting for my best friend, waiting for you to act as if I existed. I am happy for you Az I am, but how could you never notice that you were slowly killing me?”

“What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?” He went to reach for you but stepped back, away from his hands, he didn’t get to comfort you anymore. “Talk to me, please.” He pleaded.

“I hate that I love you.” You choked out, the tears were warm as they fell down your face. He stared at you and the confession you had just put out there, his hazel eyes wide, followed by an unsure glance, you could tell there were words he wanted to share but he held his tongue. “I hate that I miss you even though I feel used. When you first started showing interest in Elain I let it go, I told myself I would be happy no matter what but you began to disregard me, and it hurt Az. Watching you fall for someone else broke me. Maybe I'm selfish, or maybe I am crazy. And you are my best friend. Though now I am not sure I can be when the pain of seeing you with someone else consumes me.” You looked at him through the tears that blurred your vision, his face had gone pale, but his hazel eyes stood out as they stared directly at you.

“Nothing would change what you are to me, no one could. But-” Azriel paused as if he was choosing his next words carefully. “She is who I am with now, and that means most of my time will be spent with her.” Azriel clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze now fixed on his feet. “Why are you only telling me this now? Y/N, how long have you felt like this?” Azriel spoke quietly but you could hear the faint crack in his tone. You couldn’t tell if there was anger in his voice or even disappointment. Or it was something completely different, you couldn't tell. His face was stoic, wearing the mask that you thought you cracked a long time ago.

You blinked the tears away. You knew rejection like the back of your hand but this, from him, was something completely different. You could only wonder if death was a better fate than this. His words had confirmed the one thing you never wanted to accept. “I will never be her. I will never be the one you love. Will I? I cannot put anybody else above you, yet you have no issue putting me below someone else. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. Azriel our friendship meant so much to me, and I couldn’t let foolish feelings I developed years ago take that away. And I knew this would happen eventually, I knew you would find someone that wasn't me but I never thought it would hurt this much.”

“Y/N-” His voice was hoarse as if the tears he tried so hard to keep at bay would fall at any moment. As quickly as that mask was replaced, it began slipping once more, showing you the vulnerable side that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Don’t. I can’t do this, not anymore, not when it pains me to see you, not when I know you will never love me the same way I love you.” Your voice was too calm, though the tears never ceased.

“Y/N I am sorry, please you are important to me, I need you. Don't say you’ll leave.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, he moved closer to you, and you wanted to back away from his touch but you would give him this moment. And maybe it was because you needed it too, knowing you would never feel it again after tonight. He placed a tender hand along your jaw, you could feel the slight tremble from him against your skin. You didn’t want this to be the end, but everything was different and maybe it was time for you to change too.

You gently laid your hand atop his scarred one. “I will always want what is best for you Azriel. And I hope things work out between you and Elain. I hope you are happy. But I can no longer be a part of your life, it is too much, my heart can't take it.”

“Please don’t Y/N, don’t say that, I am sorry, I will do better.” His other hand moved to cup the other side of your face, and fresh tears fell from the both of you.

“You said it yourself Az, she is who you’re with now. Your time is preoccupied. There is nothing more I want than to stay, but you won’t even notice I’m gone. I will not put myself through anymore more suffering. Especially when I know I could never be the one that you would choose. I can’t sit back and watch as the one I love, loves another.” You removed his hands from your face. He dropped them to his sides, parting his lips as though he was about to speak but you knew there was nothing left to say. “I am sorry Azriel.” You stepped away from him, making your way towards the door, and as you opened it you looked back at him, he didn’t say a word, only staring at you with sorrowful eyes. Begging you not to leave, he outstretched a hand toward you, in one last attempt to keep you there but you walked through the door, closing it behind you. You took off running. Leaving him alone in your room, you heard the door swing open with force, his footsteps behind you.

“Y/N please stop!” He called out.

But you didn't. You ran through the hallway, past the kitchen where your friends were still up conversing with one another. You heard Feyre call out to you but you kept moving. And once you were outside, you winnowed yourself away, appearing next to a stream in the middle of the woods. You didn't know where you were but it was far enough to where no one would find you, where no one would hear you. You slammed up your mental walls, making sure to keep everything out.

You dropped to your knees and screamed. You screamed to the stars until your throat hurt. Your body was numb. But yet it still ached for him, even though the two of you were only ever a broken dream.

Taglist: @honestlywtfisgoingon @marina468 @positivewitch @maviee @blurredlamplight @bookslut420 @elle10 @dragonstoneprincess

[octuscle]

Full time barista here I’ve always been envious of the men on stage especially the heavy weights. Don’t want to over work the chronivac but help me become a muscle bull as big as jean pierre fux.

Mate, I understand you only too well…. There are few things hotter than the real heavy beefcakes. I've tried it long enough myself… But I didn't make it either. Jean Pierre is a pretty good role model… But I have an idea…

Friday morning. It's 06:00, you have to hurry, in one hour you have to prepare the first coffee. You don't have time for much more than a few situps and pushups. In the bathroom you have to hurry. You need longer and longer to conceal your receding hairline. You are now 40 years old, slowly you just notice that you are getting older. If you go out tonight to party, it will take you almost the whole Saturday to recover. The cosmetic industry has nothing effective to offer against the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. And even if you don't need to be ashamed of your body: You won't gain much more muscle in your lifetime.

Shit, at 07:00 o'clock people are already queuing up. You hate it when you can't open the store in peace. But as it looks, it will be 10:00 o'clock, until you have the first moment of rest. In fact, it's even 10:30 when your colleague thinks you can take a break. If you need it, he adds with a wink. You look fantastic today! You take a mineral water and sit down in the warehouse. In fact, you feel pretty damn good right now. You drink the water in one go. You don't have much time for a break. And you have to piss again before the lunch business starts. Your lower jaw drops as you wash your hands. Fuck, what happened to you. There are no more receding hairlines or laugh lines. You look ten years younger than when you got up today. The only difference is that you look as if you'd spent the last ten years doing little else but lifting iron. Your T-shirt is almost blown up by your biceps and pecs. And your jeans look like they're painted on your monstrous legs. How could you not notice that? As you tie the apron back on your way back to the counter, you wonder why you were just amazed. Since your 20th birthday, you've spent every spare minute at the gym, investing every penny you earn in protein and supplements. Hell, if you didn't look the way you do, you would have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.

The calm in your coffee bar begins to subside again. The lunch business is starting up. There's a beefcake in your line that makes you jealous. Yo, bro! he greets you. It's nice to see that there are real men working here, too. What you can recommend to him. You suggest the protein bomb. A scramble of 10 eggs with 400 grams of chicken breast. He grins and nods. And a liter of still mineral water. The bro shares your taste. While you type everything into the register, he asks you if you're all-natural. Of course you are. With the money for the meal, he slides you a card. In case you want to think about it.

It is 17:00 o'clock, when you tie off your apron. Fuck' according to your watch you have walked 12,000 steps today on the few square meters behind the counter. But it also looks like it's been a pretty good day so far. You're 20 now, and the idea of opening your own café with healthy and, above all, protein-rich food came to you when you were 16. That's when you started getting into high performance bodybuilding. And a place like this was missing at that time. And then you built this place with your mentor and trainer as a straw man. But you can't stand behind the counter for more than ten hours. Even if you are the best advertisement for your products, you have to work out at least four hours every day. Otherwise you don't stand a chance on the big stage.

You might not be one of the big ones yet… But you are on a really good way to get there. You met Jean Pierre Fux once at a fitness fair in Germany. A great role model for you. And he said that at your age he would have been a linnet compared to you. The prerequisites for a brilliant career are there. Enjoy it and make the best of it!

This and other hot pics @anton227ludwig

[hazbmymhotel]

Heading to the spider’s nest

Chapter 6 is out!!

“It feels good to be doin’ my own business for once, Husker,” Angel said, stretching his arms above his head. It brought attention to a silky blouse he was wearing, paired with a tiny plaid skirt. Angel vowed to find something more matronly on the way home.

“Didn't you do shit for yourself all the time outside of the studio?” Husk asked, stretching his wings back behind him. “As far as deals went, yours was fairly lax.”

“Psh. I'm gonna tell you the scars I got under my fur say otherwise,” Angel rolled his eyes. He turned the corner, heading towards the dingiest part of the city.

“You should show me sometime,” Husk said, his voice low and flirty.

Angel grinned, “shut up, Kitty Cat. I got fuckin’ work to do. I can't be all weak kneed.” Though he was still trembling from the withdrawals, it was an easier shaking to handle than tummy flips.

“Do we have a plan?” Husk asked.

“Mm. Well, I figured I'd just go in and ask,” Angel answered. “I mean, my Father is probably gonna be a real prick, but Arackniss will tell me whatever I want if I ask real nice.”

“And your Mother?”

“Ma will probably tell me somethin’ crazy stupid and hand me the worst mixtape ever made. I'm glad she's moved on from records, though, those are annoying to carry around.”

“Your ‘Ma’ likes music?” Husk asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “Was she big in the jazz scene?”

Angel shrugged a little, “I mean, maybe? She was usually gettin’ pushed around by Dad. He's a real asshole.”

“Am I going to have to watch out for him?” Husk raised his eyebrows. “Am I going to need to be a barrier between you two?”

“Why ya askin’ these kinda questions?” Angel asked, frowning.

“It's not the first time I've gotten married on a whim and met the parents after the fact. It's also not the first time I've had to deal with my spouse’s shitty father.”

Angel paused his step.

“You've been married before?”

Husk stopped a few feet ahead, turning his head back. “Twice…technically three times if you count that ceremony in India.”

“Excuse me?” Angel wheezed. “How come you've never said nothin’?”

“You've never asked.” Husk tapped his foot until Angel started walking again. “It's not common to just discuss topside life unless you're freshly buried.”

“Well, yeah…Yeah, I know that. I'm just…” Angel chewed his lip. “I feel like I shoulda asked that.”

Husk patted his own jacket and pulled out a flask. “What else do you feel like you should ask?” He took a swig.

Angel held his hand out until Husk gave him a sip. “Do you got any kids?”

Husk sighed. “Makes sense that was the next question. Two. One of my girls is in hell as far as I know.”

“Am I gonna meet her after this?” Angel’s heart was slamming in his chest as he handed back the flask.

“She told me not to talk to her after my second marriage. She's made it clear that we're not going to down here.” Husk tilted his head back on his next drink.

Angel asked quickly, “And how'd your first marriage end?”

“Hah.” Husk smirked a little. “Fucked a twink outside of a club in Chicago after I botched a magic show.”

“So she caught ya?”

“No…No, I couldn't keep that a secret.” Husk capped his flask. “I had a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve…I learned to play my cards close to my chest after that. My second marriage ended after I gave her the clap.”

Angel barked out a laugh then covered his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! I thought it woulda been the gamblin’...I didn't realize you were a whore.”

Husk decidedly reopened his flask.

“The gambling didn't help.” He took a drink. “Sometimes it was the stakes I was bettin’ on that got me into someone's bed. Sometimes I…just couldn't help myself.” Husk wrinkled his nose, “it's no excuse. I don't find myself attracted to a lot of people, but when I do, it can be hard to control the urge.”

“Should I be insulted that you barely looked at me then?” Angel crossed his arms.

“You get insulted if someone misgenders your pig.”

“Fat Nuggets is a prince and should be respected,” Angel pouted.

“Hm.” Husk finally tucked his flask away. “No, I wouldn't be too worried if I were you, Angel. You're interestin’ when you're being honest. Plus you're gorgeous, which is a bonus.”

Angel blushed beneath his fur. He tightened his crossed arms over his chest and stomach, trying to contain the butterflies. “I mean…you're not half bad yourself. Am I gonna have to drag you home from some dame's house occasionally when you get too ‘hot and bothered’ or whatever?”

“Maybe. I don't really discriminate on gender… but I imagine it won't be long before you're missing having a group of men toss you around. Fair trade, right?” Husk tucked his wings closer to himself, knowing his Infidelities had usually been deal breakers.

Angel considered. “Fair. I do like t’have my holes filled.”

“One man’s cock cannot do all that,” Husk said.

“Yeah, but yours has all those…little nubs on it,” Angel found himself breathless again.

Husk cleared his throat a little. “Penile spines…An unfortunate side effect of my cat body. It's been effective at keeping me from fuckin’ anybody.”

“Excuse me?!?! Unfortunate?!” Angel fanned himself with all four arms. “I am goin’ insane at the thought of that thing rubbin’ at my insides. Will you make those cute little sounds you do all the time?” He stumbled a little. “Oh man. Maybe we shouldn't go today, I'm gettin' all weak kneed.”

“I don't make little sounds,” Husk said under his breath with a pouting mrrow. His tail flicked.

“Stop, you're killin' me!” Angel begged. “You're a little guy, and I just can't take it!”

“Could you stop flirting this hard in public?” Husk blushed furiously.

“ME?!” Angel could weep, he was so worked up.

Both of them straightened up, hands going to their holsters when someone burst out of a side door.

“What's all this racket?!” Arackniss yelled, his many eyes searching the scene while he raised two guns. His gazes settled on Angel and he relaxed. “Anthony!” He tucked his guns away. “What're you’s doin’ here, you gigantic cunt?”

Husk bristled, but Angel squealed, running forward and throwing his arms around the other spider.

“I was hopin’ it'd be you, you big fuckin’ knuckle head!” Angel squeezed his brother, having to lean over heavily to do so. The other man hugged Angel firmly, arms overlapping each other on his slim waist.

“Did the cat drag you in? Haha, who's that mook, huh?” Arackniss asked, patting Angel’s back to let him go.

Angel beamed back at Husk. “Oh, Nickie, that's my new husband, Husker.”

Arackniss shoved Angel aside and squared up at Husk, stalking towards him. It wasn't often he was taller than another demon, so it was nice to feel intimidating. “You’s think I'm gonna let my little baby brother frolic around with another goddamn queer ass little bitch with a tight ass and broad shoulders?”

Husk readied his hand on his playing cards.

“‘Course I am!” Arackniss raised his own arms threateningly…and wrapped all six around the man in a firm grip. “Put ‘er there, you’s mangy animal! I'm Nicolas!”

Husk squirmed and mrowled aggressively until he was able to wriggle free. He smoothed his hands over his fur. “Charmed,” he said flatly.

Arackniss laughed and slapped Angel’s back. “You's sure do like pricks!”

“Well I like you, don't I?” Angel slung two arms around his shoulder. “I got a question for ya, bro. You got a minute?”

The shorter spider glanced at the door, then back at Angel. “We're sorta interrogatin–”

The door slammed open again. “Arackniss, what's takin’ you’s? We got fingers to cut.”

Arackniss made an indecisive sound, “mmmnnListen, come on in. We's got some fuckin’ guests, boys!” He grabbed both of their arms, tugging Husk and Angel inside.

Husk crossed his arms, surveying the scene. It was an old warehouse of sorts. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling.

“This'll only take a minute, Anthony,” Arackniss promised, stalking into a back room.

Husk frowned, his eyes dilating in the dimly lit space. Angel’s eyes glowed, which only made Husk feel more on edge in the current situation.

“Lame,” Angel complained. “Guess we better find Ma before Dad shows up.” He started walking away from Arackniss’ position. “I hope her little office is still back this way.”

“Hm.” Husk’s voice was low. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Angel?” He followed him and flattened his ears back to the sounds of muffled screams.

“What? Are you scared, Whiskers?” Angel asked, “didn't you tell me once you know how to interrogate a man?”

“It works a lot better if you butter them up first,” Husk said, glancing back. “Torture just gets them to say whatever you want to hear.”

“I dunno…I like torture. Makes me get wet.” Angel whispered, still feeling tingly from their moment outside.

“Can you stop thinking about sex for one–it makes you wet?” Husk’s feathers fluffed.

“Baby, have you really never watched one of my movies?” Angel asked, surprised. “Probably that's my special demon power. I was just reborn to be a star.”

Husk held his face in his paw and sighed.

“Oh! There it is!” Angel grabbed his hand off his face and pulled him forward. He knocked on a door eagerly. “Ma! You in there?”

“Come in!” A raspy voice called.

Angel opened the door to a plume of incense smoke. Probably. “I'm gonna assume that's incense,” he said out loud as he stepped in.

“I've been expectin’ you’s both,” said a woman settled into a large chair spun of webs. “My Tony, sweet boy, come gives me a big kiss.”

Angel giggled and pranced to her side, letting his mother smooch both of his cheeks. He stood straight and bounced back to Husker, grabbing both of his hands. “Ma, this is my husband, Husker, Husk, this is my Ma, Amy.”

“Amphetamy, please. The Don is lurking,” she warned.

Angel sighed and shut the door behind him. “Figures. I was hopin’ to avoid that big-” he stopped as Amphetamy leveled him a look. “Sorry, Ma. I came to ask Arackniss a question, but he's busy.”

Husk cleared his throat. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.

“It’s good to see my boy settling down with a distinguished gentleman,” she said, holding her hands out and gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.

Husk looked at Angel before they both took a seat. The woman busied herself with lighting a new incense cone and laying out a few saucers. She filled each one with a different substance: wine, whiskey, and cream. She unwrapped a cassette tape and used her spindly fingers to wind the take-up reel. Finally, Amphetamy heaved a boom box onto the table, and placed the tape inside.

Husk found himself staring at the saucer of cream until Angel startled him.

“We're gettin’ a fortune, huh?” Angel asked flatly. “The last one didn't make any damned sense, Ma. It was full of the goddamn Beatles and Rollin’ Stones.”

“And ACDC.” Amphetamy scoffed at him. “Learn some manners, boy. I'm doing a service for you's. If you’d have listened to my last tape, your soul would still never had fallen into a moth’s hands.”

Angel pursed his lips.

“How does this work, Ma’am?”

“I will answer your questions with my favorite medium. Music.” Amphetamy smiled at Husk, decidedly pouring additional cream into a glass, handing it to him as a reward for not being a little shit.

Husk tried not to look too eager.

“Go on, drink, it's not for my work.” Amphetamy urged. “But what is…I want to hear those questions.” She hit the “record” button on the boom box.

Husk sipped his cream, licking his lips to clear it from his fur. His tongue stuck out in a small blep, forgotten there.

Angel leaned on his elbow and watched Husker adoringly. “Well, Ma,” he said, voice wistful, “I broke a contract a couple's nights ago.”

“That isn't a question, child.”

Angel tried not to squirm as he watched Husk take another sip, absently licking the edge of the glass. He was so cute it hurt. “Well I broke my contract on a whim, Ma. And I don't know how I did it.”

Amphetamy looked at him flatly then looked at Husk. “Could one of you’s please articulate this into a question? Anyquestion??”

Husk gave a soft, warm chuckle. “Sorry, ma'am, we both know Angel has trouble with simple instruction.”

“Hey,” Angel pouted.

Husk continued, “How did Angel Dust break his own contract with Valentino?”

“Good,” Amphetamy said as the Boom Box started to whir. “More questions.”

Angel frowned, “you're not gonna answer us.”

“Questions!!” Amphetamy hissed.

“Ffffine. Are you not gonna answer us, Ma? Ow!” Angel jumped as Husk pinched his arm.

“Not those kinds of questions, jackass.” Husk swirled his cup, thinking. “How will our mutual contract affect us?”

“Good. Better. Keep asking as they bubble into your heads,” Amphetamy encouraged.

Angel rubbed his arm, pouting. “Will doing this bite me in the ass?”

“Less vague,” she said, guiding.

“Will promisin’ myself to Husk…I mean…is it a good idea?” Angel asked nervously, turning to watch his mother.

Husk, unbothered, asked, “what do we do about our contract now?”

“Should I try overlordin?”

Amphetamy held up a hand and looked at her boom box.

“Ask…different questions. Take your time.”

Angel groaned and turned to watch Husk again, trying to decide what to ask next.

Husk dipped his tongue into his glass.

Angel’s eyes glistened. “Isn't he the cutest, Ma?”

She sighed. Husk glared at him, but the look softened as his mind worked.

“How will our contract end?” Husk asked somberly.

“Don't ask shit like that!” Angel gasped, horrified, “take it back! Ma, how do I make the contract un-end?”

Husk reached over and held his paw on Angel’s arm. Angel covered it with two of his own hands, squeezing. “How do I even know what to do, Ma? I need advice for once!”

“I'm giving it to you,” Amphetamy promised. “Two more questions.”

“No you ain't!”

“Angel, calm down,” Husk soothed.

“No! All I want is for my fuckin' afterlife to be better than my shitty fuckin’ human life! Is that so much to ask?!”

“One more question.”

Husk set his glass down and stood on his chair to reach. He held Angel’s face in his hands and looked in his eyes. “Calm down…You know I love you, right?”

Amphetamy reached over and turned off the recording. “Such a difficult boy.”

Angel weakly touched Husk's hands on his face, eyes wet. “You love me? You do?”

 

Husk leaned forward, kissing his forehead. “Yes.” He grunted as Angel pulled him off of his chair, holding him tightly.

 

Clearing her throat, Amphetamy held out the cassette. “Listen to the songs. Really listen, Angel.”

 

Angel looked over Husk's shoulder and reached out for the tape. “It's gonna be bad, isn't it?”

 

“I don't know. The music places itself on there,” Amphetamy said, “now, listen.”

 

Angel nodded. Husk hopped down, having to stand on his toes to look over the desk. “Thank you, Ma'am.”

 

“I like this one, Angel, he's the first polite man you've brought home,” Amphetamy said. “Now go on before the Don finds you’s both.”

 

“Yeah, yeah…I know he's gonna be mad I didn't get permission for this,” Angel rolled his eyes. Still, he smiled warmly at her, “I love you, Ma.”

 

She blew him a kiss.

 

Angel and Husk walked through the now quiet warehouse, their feet each padding and clicking on the cement respectfully. When they reached the outside, Angel handed Husk the tape. “Keep it safe for Mommy, would ya?”

 

Husk huffed, but took it anyway, tucking it into his jacket. He paused. He frantically tapped over his jacket and pants. “My cards.”

 

“What?” Angel asked, startled.

 

“My fuckin’ cards are missing!”

 

Angel, alarmed, gave himself a once over. He wheezed. “My knife.”

 

“Not your guns?”

 

“My angelic knife,” Angel’s voice was tight. “Arackniss.”

 

 

Husk bristled, ready to turn heel.

 

“No-!” Angel grabbed his shoulder. “That's the only angelic weapon I had on me.”

 

“I'm not leavin’ my favorite fuckin' deck!” Husk growled. “And we can't let them figure out what that knife does.”

 

Angel grit his teeth. “Shit. Shit, you're right.”

[shatcey]

1st anniversary (William)

William Victor Victor epilogue Liam Liam epilogue

You know how it happens… Someone shows you affection, and you become curious about this person… Will recently shows up with the most beautiful 5⭐ card I've ever seen in this game, and that's the reason I decided to read his story in this event. Not because I liked the description of his story more than the others. No, no, no, no! It's just because he definitely likes me. And it doesn't really matter that I chose his route about a week before I got the card. This is just a... coincidence, yes, coincidence.

So...

You expect some flashbacks from the events dedicated to the anniversary. And this one is no exception. The story is from his perspective (which is really rare), so it is even more precious.

After Victor's instruction, Will feels a bit conflicted. Will respects the wishes of others, and he doesn't like making decisions for them. But Victor forbade him to tell Kate about it. So he went to play the piano, but Kate didn't answer his call as usual… So he went to look for her. He finds her in the garden with Harry and Liam. They were playing cards and laughing happily.

Will feels a bit nostalgic and recall the impression of her at their first meeting.

Harry jokes that it's written on her face that she loves Will. They laugh and at that moment, the man himself appears. The boys immediately found a reason to leave them alone. Good boys.

Will said he was a little tired and would like to take a nap on her lap and listen to her story. She agrees and asks what story he would like to hear. The day they met… He wanted to know in details how she spent that day. And she tells him (I'm actually impressed. It was a year ago, and she remembers it so well… I don't remember what I did a week ago, at least not in so much detail, that's for sure).

The next day… thanks to the combined efforts of the Crown members…

They repeat step by step everything she did on that remarkable day. She wakes up late (Alfons played the role of an alarm clock, oh, his magic fingers), Ellis brings her bread from the bakery (she used to lives to the second floor of the bakery and eats their bread for breakfast). Liam asks her to write a love letter. When Harry came and said that because of the season at the post office, where she used to work, there were not enough staff and they needed a hand. Kate is a good girl, so she agrees to help.

Will escorted her to the post office and went for his business. But at the same time as before, he was at the same place where they met. While waiting for her, he remembers their meeting…

I'm not sure, but I think it was in episode 0…

So… Kate appears and points out that this day is remarkably similar to the day they met.

In the normal ending, she instantly figure out that this is Will's doing, and when she asks why, he offers her to reveal it herself. So she did. And then she begs him to let her stay by his side.

After that, Will came to Victor with a signed agreement.

I actually find it so Will's like… "until the final day separates us"… poetic and a bit depressing)

And they recall their conversation on the same topic when Kate first appeared in the crown.

I think he ment "not soon" or "as far as possible"… But I'm not certain…

In the premium ending they continue. He sends her to deliver the last two letters. And the last one leads her to the same mansion where she meets all the boys from the crown (prologue).

Will mentioned that in this mansion he once again killed someone…. This place somehow attracts bad people.

He was playing the piano, and Kate (of course) happily approached him. She realized once again that this was a test of her determination.

If you've finished his route, you know what it means… If not… don't think about it, you'll figure out eventually.

After that, Will recalled his thoughts…

Yet again I think it was in episode 0…

And in the end, he expressed his usual hope..

And for once, something sweet, not gloomy.

I didn't expect it to be so grim.

I finished his route, read his events, so I knew about his fatalism and I cannot say I was surprised. But it's still too dark…

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[mothandpidgeon]

Forgive Me (Joel Miller x f!reader/ofc)

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/ofc (unnamed, no physical description)

Words: 3.5k

Rating: E 18+

Warnings: masturbation, the male gaze, dub con (looking at nudes without consent), references to p in v sex and blow jobs, references to drugs and alcohol, violence, general Joel Miller angst and self-loathing [let me know if I missed anything]

Summary: When Joel finds himself in possession of some sexy photos, temptation makes him question himself as he's fascinated by a woman he's never met.

A/N: She's back! I think it's been a year since I've posted any Pedro fic. I've been kind of uninspired but mainly focused on publishing my first novel. But Joel's got me all kinds of distracted from revising my manuscript. Please enjoy some angst.

...

It rained. A gray sky blanketed the QZ making everything look even more bleak. As if it needed help. Joel and his customer had taken cover under some scaffolding. Luckily, the weather meant that there weren’t a whole lot of people around, no suspicious glances in their direction. 

Joel opened his wet bag to reveal a pair of work boots to the buyer. Vince’s eyes lit up. 

“Hell yeah,” he said. 

Joel flipped the backpack closed again. These had been hard to come by and he’d gotten pretty good at this beat. Nobody got their hands on any goods without paying first. 

“Alright. I got you, man,” Vince said. This wasn’t his first rodeo either. He’d been doing business with Joel since the very beginning. He bought all kinds of shit— a radio, chocolate, tiny bottles of shampoo. Joel wasn’t sure if Vince resold the stuff but it was better not to know about that kind of thing. 

Vince put his cards into Joel’s hand and Joel counted. 

“What the hell is this?” Joel asked. 

Tucked into the stack of ration cards were a couple of photographs. A quick glance showed him they were all the same woman, naked or nearly naked. Vince had tried to pawn this stuff off on him before. In fact once he tried to pay with porn and Joel had to tell him he only accepted ration cards. 

“Just a little something extra,” Vince said with a wink. He happily took the boots and gave them a once over. “You got my size and everything.”

“I’m not interested,” Joel said and tried to hand the pictures back. 

“Come on,” Vince chuckled. “A stiff prick for a stiff prick.” He gave Joel a friendly slap on the shoulder which only deepened his scowl. 

“See you around.” Vince walked away and Joel had no choice but to tuck the bundle into his jacket. 

When he got home, Joel hid the ration cards away as he always did. He put the photographs into the hole in the floor as well. He hadn’t given them another look since they went into his pocket. Joel might’ve just gotten rid of them but nothing went in the trash without careful consideration. Everything in the QZ had value and these pictures were obviously worth something to somebody. It didn’t feel right to sell them but in a pinch, it would be good to have something that could grease some wheels. 

He put the floorboards back and promptly forgot about them. 

...

Joel’s hand reached into the hole in the floor. It was the end of a long and awful week. The Fireflies were causing trouble which meant the FEDRA rats were out in force. Joel hadn’t done any lucrative business in days. The honest work he could get was as degrading as ever. He smelled like trash and shit. He needed a fucking drink, couldn’t wait to feel it burn in the back of his throat. There was no chance his muscles would uncoil without a couple of shots. As he fished his bottle out of its hiding place, his fingers caught on something else. The slick side of a photograph stuck to his sweaty palm as he drew his hand out from under the floor. It’d been a while since he’d put the nudes down there and he hadn’t thought about them at all since. 

Joel looked at it. Curiosity, plain and simple. It was a Polaroid, taken on long-expired film that gave everything a tinge of sepia. The woman in the photograph looked out at him, a coy smile on her lips. It wasn’t her face that caught his attention. She sat on the edge of a bed, tits bare. One of her thumbs was hitched in the elastic of her panties. 

He pulled the other two out, just to see the variety, and took them over to his bed along with his bottle. The photos got more explicit. In the first she was laying back, completely exposed and touching herself. The other one had her on all fours, looking over her shoulder at the camera, at Joel. 

At first Joel chuckled to himself. He never considered himself to be the type to go for such exaggerated, porny stuff. And he hardly lost control of himself. There wasn’t room for desire in his life. Pleasure wasn’t a part of his vocabulary anymore. From the sludge that passed for his morning coffee to the hard mattress he lay on at night, there was nothing enjoyable to be found around him. 

Still, he felt himself twitching in his jeans. She had a nice body, the kind he used to like when he thought about things like that. She looked soft and he bet she smelled good. 

Joel began to wonder about her, if she’d taken the pictures for her lover. Or maybe for an ex who’d traded them to spite her. Either way, they weren’t for him. She might’ve posed for a creep like Vince to get a few ration cards. 

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like knowing that he was the kind of man who got stiff gawking at her. Joel did all kinds of things he wasn’t proud of but he had a good reason for them. Getting off on some woman’s private pictures just seemed wrong. 

She wasn’t his daughter but she was somebody’s and that made Joel’s gut twist. 

He tossed the photo aside and laid back, draping his forearm across his eyes. For a while he laid there trying to will his hard on away. His muscles were even more tense than before. He ground his teeth and screwed his eyes shut but the image of the woman had burned itself in. Soon he was absentmindedly touching himself through his jeans, dragging his fingertips over the lump in the denim. He craved that release. Each slow stroke made him pulse with want. 

He growled. What fucking difference did it make? Joel was acting all high and mighty like it meant something. He wasn’t any better than the man who’d given him these pictures. He had his own vices and he always felt about an inch away from violence. This poor girl had no idea he was looking at her body, that seeing her flesh was getting him hard. If that was the worst thing that ever happened to her, he told himself, she was lucky. 

Human decency be damned. Joel gave in to that selfish part of him, the animal inside that cared only about his own survival, his own desire. This world had taken everything from him and he was going to steal something from her. He knew what that made him but he didn’t care. 

Joel unzipped his fly, his cock weeping furiously and straining against his boxers. He took up the last photo, the one that was doubled over ass-out, and spit into his other fist. He pulled at himself as he glared at the picture. It felt good. Slick and tight. 

He could see a trail of wetness at her core reflecting the camera’s flash and he imagined how fantastic it would feel to plunge into her, to hold onto her hips and groan and buck against her. He kept tugging on his cock, squeezing at the head and dreaming up the noises she’d make, the sounds of their bodies connecting. He sped up his fist. He wanted her to cry out his name. He wanted her to take him away from all of this shit, just for a minute, just sixty fucking seconds when he could forget. 

A spasm ran up from his groin, an electric shock that travelled up his spine, and he moaned and swore through gritted teeth as he came. His heart pounded in his chest as he lay back, sticky and sweating. The photograph was still in his grip as his breath evened out. 

That wasn’t the last time he used her picture. Whenever he was amped up or way down, he’d retrieve the photos and get to work on himself. 

There was one photograph he favored over the others, the one where she was on her back. He liked to think about standing over her, taking in the sight of her. His eyes would move over every velvet inch of her before he went any further. 

She could be whatever he needed. Sometimes he would imagine her seducing him, straddling his hips and lowering herself onto his cock with a luxurious sigh. Others, he liked her to be sweet and innocent, just for him. When he was having a shitty day, he’d picture himself fucking brutally into her mouth until tears ran down her cheeks. It was messed up and he knew it but the guilt wore off quickly. He had next to nothing in this world, at least he could have this release.

... 

Joel had been waiting longer than he wanted. He’d circled the block three times already and he was getting impatient. He was meeting a buyer who was late and if they didn’t show soon, they’d be out of luck. Joel didn’t like to linger. 

He rounded the corner on the square and did his best to blend in. Another round of executions were underway. Above the crowd, four people were lined up on the catwalk, ropes around their necks. Joel chose to ignore it. He scanned the faces around him until he saw someone familiar. It wasn’t his contact. He wasn’t sure where he’d seen her before. That happened often— he’d spot someone he thought he knew from his past life. Most of the time, it was just a trick of the eye, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the woman on the other side of the square. 

She had her arm around another woman. The other one was more than middle aged and crying, tears running over the wrinkles on her cheeks. The woman, the one that Joel recognized, pulled her friend in close and glanced around. She wasn’t crying but she had a lost expression on her face. That’s when he realized. 

Joel was looking at the woman from the photographs. There was no doubt in his mind that it was her. He’d spent over a year staring at that face. In person, she was just as pretty but her appearance was hidden under the same dirt and weariness everyone in the QZ wore. 

Joel’s chest went tight and he couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t breathe. His body was crushed by shame and disgust. He had violated her and she didn’t even know it. 

The FEDRA officer read out the charges and she squeezed her friend in close so she wouldn’t have to watch the bodies drop. Obviously there was someone up there that they knew. Joel watched her face go stony as the platform fell out. She barely winced, like she was just there to bare witness, but he could guess how she felt. You lost enough people, what was one more friend dying right in front of your eyes?

The crowd broke up and she lead her companion away, a tender hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Joel had no choice but to move and his feet decided to head in the same direction as the woman. He kept his distance because he wasn't following her. At least he told himself that he that. It just wasn’t safe for him to hang around with FEDRA crawling all over. Dusk was falling so she was probably headed home before curfew fell. 

Joel watched her wind down the streets, all the while sick to his stomach. He truly was a creep. He didn’t know why he was going after her. The last thing he wanted was to spook her and it wasn’t like he planned on introducing himself. There was a funny idea in his mind that she might turn around and see him and know, just by looking at his face, what he’d done. Maybe she’d scream at him and slap him in the face. Part of him wanted that. He deserved it. 

She was just helping her friend up the stairs to one of the brownstones when Joel connected with something. He’d been so wrapped up in watching the woman, he wasn’t looking at where he was going. It startled him out of his thoughts to be inches away from a FEDRA officer. Usually Joel kept a wide berth but he’d walked right into the back of his bulletproof vest. The officer turned and put his hands on his hips, narrowed his eyes. 

Joel gave an apologetic nod. 

“Move along,” the FEDRA officer commanded. 

Joel did, unsure he deserved to slip out of a close call like that. 

When he got home, he felt like shit. He pried up the floorboards and dug out the pictures. The face that looked out at him was the same one he’d seen in the square. He snapped his eyes shut and swore under his breath. 

He set the photos down at the kitchen table, then sat on the couch with his bottle. Joel sat there for a long time, watching the pictures like they might spring up and force themselves back into his hand. That night, he hardly slept. 

...

Joel knew better than to do business with someone as skittish as Max. This kid had already chewed his fingernails down to the quick and the way his eyes darted around would make anyone suspicious. But he wanted pills so damn bad, he’d give up more ration cards than they were worth. Joel insisted they meet off the street, in an alley buffeted by a fence and brick walls. 

“You’re a lifesaver for this,” Max said. He couldn’t stop fidgeting and it made even Joel nervous. 

“Mhm,” he grumbled. 

Max knew the drill. He was ready with the cards without being asked. 

Joel was about to reach for them when the worst thing that could happen did. 

“What’s going on here?” a gruff voice called down the alley. Fuck. A FEDRA officer in full uniform was marching their way, one hand on his weapon.

Leave it to Max to split. He made a break for it and blew past the officer leaving Joel to face questioning alone. If he’d been cool, Joel could’ve talked their way out of it but now there was no hope of leaving without trouble.

The officer radioed for someone else to go after Max, gave his position and direction, but he kept his eyes on Joel. He was shorter than Joel and under his helmet, he looked young. Probably born just a few years before the outbreak with no options but joining up. The patch on his chest identified him as DIXON.

“Hands on your head,” Dixon instructed when he was finished.

Joel obeyed, a deep frown pulling at his lips. Dixon scanned him and then reached for his radio again.

“I’ve got some ration cards in my pocket. They’re all yours,” Joel offered before he could make a report.

“You trying to bribe me?” the officer asked.

Joel shook his head. “Everybody’s in need these days. Just trying to help out.”

Dixon scoffed. “Trying to help yourself out of a tough spot.”

Joel clenched his jaw. This motherfucker was obviously one of those types that got off on throwing their weight around. Half of the FEDRA soldiers he’d encountered were happy to bend the rules for the right price. The other half only felt big when they reminded others how small they’d become.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Dixon said, sliding his weapon onto his back so his hands were free. The chainlink fence rattled as he pressed Joel against it. Joel kept his eyes forward as hands searched his hips and down his legs. Dixon went into his pocket and Joel heard the crinkle of a plastic bag. “Pills. No wonder.”

He continued his search as Joel cursed himself. Losing that merchandise meant a nice stack of ration cards was about to evaporate into thin air. Not to mention the fact he was now in deep shit with FEDRA.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel heard. The delight in the officer’s voice made him turn his head. Joel’s stomach fell into his feet when he saw what had been found. Dixon held a Polaroid in his hand.

Joel had been toting the pictures around for two weeks, hoping chance might cause him to bump into the woman again. Sometimes he wandered past the building she went into before curfew, hoping to catch her there again. He could have just destroyed them, lit the corner and let them go up in flames, but he wanted to give them back to her so she knew that they weren’t floating around out there. That scumbags like him weren’t jacking it to her picture. That pigs like Dixon weren’t salivating over them like he was right now. 

“This your girl?” he asked. He raised the visor on his helmet to get a better look. “Damn.”

Joel pressed his lips into a line, shame washing over him again. He wondered if he’d had the same dopey grin on his face when he’d first gazed over her body.

“That’s a nice piece of pussy.” 

Joel seethed and squeezed his hand into a fist in hopes that he could ball up all the swiftly building ire right there.

“Y’know,” Dixon began, finally glancing back up to Joel, “if I got a taste of that, I might be inclined to forget about all this. If she’s any good, maybe I’d even let you keep your pills.”

His fist flew before he even knew it. Joel pounced on him, pinning Dixon against the brick and punching him right in the nose. Dixon fought back, clawing and grunting, scratching at Joel’s face. Joel didn’t care. In fact, he welcomed the pain. He wasn’t defending her, the woman he didn’t know. He wasn’t a hero. Joel pummeled the man the way he’d wanted to beat himself. Pervert. Scum. Monster. Blood gushed from Dixon’s nose and teeth were battered loose and it wasn’t long before he stopped defending himself. Joel finally realized he’d knocked him out. He was holding the officer up with his own bodyweight and when he let go, Dixon crumpled.

Joel stood over him, shoulders heaving with his jagged breaths. Dixon gurgled, a mess of swollen crimson. Joel stooped down and picked up the picture with a bloody hand. He turned down the alley and ran like the cockroach he was.

...

Joel leaned in the shadow of a doorway, his eyes fixed across the street. He’d been laying low, staying as far off of FEDRA’s radar as he could, but he’d been restless. A week had passed since he’d beaten the piss out of one of their officers. His knuckles were still red and raw. 

The sun was setting. He’d been out there for nearly four hours now and he’d need to get going soon if he was going to be back before curfew. There as no way he’d risk being out after dark when things were so hot.

He perked up when a figure rounded the corner. They were rushing, clearly fighting the same clock. It was her. Joel could tell from the other end of the block. He’d been resolved to get her pictures back to her but suddenly he felt like turning tail and going home. The urge only confirmed his worst opinions about himself. 

Joel strode across the street as she approached. He placed himself at the foot of the stairs he knew she was headed towards. 

The woman looked at him with nervous eyes. It stung but he couldn’t blame her. Joel was broad and his face always fixed in a scowl. She should be scared. He’d been no friend to her. 

“Do you want something?” she asked, staying a cautious distance away. Her voice wasn’t what he’d imagined. 

Joel pulled the photos out and she took a step back. He moved towards her, holding them out so she could see that he didn’t have anything dangerous. His fist was still swollen and a smear of Dixon’s blood had stained the white frame of the Polaroid.

The woman’s eyes bounced back and forth between his hand and his face. Finally, seeing that he wasn’t going anywhere until she took what he offered, she carefully plucked the pictures up. 

Her eyes went wide and then narrow. She glowered at him. “Where did you get these?” she demanded.

Joel’s mouth was dry. The accusation in her stare cut him deeper than he’d expected. The scabs on his knuckles burned like he’d scraped them against sandpaper. He looked at her for a lengthy moment and then decided that he’d done enough. 

Joel left her there after a grunt.

He walked swiftly, wanting to put as much distance between them as he could. He didn’t feel any better. It felt like failure. He’d already forgotten what she looked like, serpentine and sensuous, replaced by her hurt and admonition. 

Joel had planned on apologizing, but the words hadn’t come. 

...

My love language is words of affirmation so I'd love any comments or rbs. Thanks for reading, you beautiful person.

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[richeeduvie]

Guys men irl are so scary like what I'm going to rant about is completely unrelated to what usually goes on my blog but I just need to go on an undeserved tangent cause WHAT

So, I work throughout the week in retail/drink service job in the tourism industry. Small island, all that. It's towards the end of work but the line is busy and wouldn't you know it, a man comes up to order. Now that I think about it, he was handsome, but he was just...staring me down, right in the eyes. Unblinking. I was a little uncomfortable.

And me, being the greatest talent to ever grace customer service and the tourism industry, makes decent eye contact back. Some people are confident like that (and I don't assume the worst or most suggestive of him). It's the same where I don't make much eye contact with customers who are shy. I'm not here to make customers uncomfortable or like they're not important, I'm here to make da bank with da load of tips.

So, he's friendly and I'm friendly and I notice his bank card is one of a local bank so I tell him he's getting a discount and honestly you guys I really just thought he was excited I was giving him a discount and when I ask him where he's coming from, he says a nearby area just off of work which automatically makes me assume he's a teacher. His attire and the time he's getting off of work just makes me assuming he's coming from school (which is important). But he's even nicer in the end and tells me it's nice to have met him, he'll see me around.

I'm also assuming he is NOWHERE near my age. I'm 19 turning 20. He's at least in his thirties, at most...maybe in his late twenties and he looks older? That's important too.

Great, my co-worker makes him his order and while I'm helping the rest of the line, I just see him staring in my area. But I'm humble so I'm thinking he's staring to see if his drink is coming out, that's until I'm glancing in his direction and he's staring right at me. He picks up his order and I thought he left, great.

Then it's twenty minutes later, we're ten minutes to closing and there's nobody out at my counter except for him. He comes up and just starts making small talk - and as someone who does not want a bad review or someone snitching to my manager, I'm very friendly. And stupid, cause if I saw what he was playing at, I wouldn't have cared if I seemed bored or turned off by him in hopes he picks up social cues. But nope you guys I'm a fucking dumbass and I'm just answering all his questions.

He asks me how long I'm working here and "Wow, that long? Never seen you around here before and I've been coming for the past couple of months, cool." And "What days do you work?"

I give him the fucking days I work!! Regulars have asked me that before so I think it's a harmless question and luckily I only have one sure day I work out of the week (Sunday). But I'm just throwing him information.

Then it's "Can i ask you a personal question?"

That's where I knew I fucked up. Then I fucked up even more when I answer no to the question "Do you have a boyfriend?" like BRUHH

I'm just so honest, so kind and so honest I'm fucking honest abe out here and it gets him to ask me if he can have my number...and I think yall already can tell I'm not interested (I dont have any interest in dating rn and just him asking me the first time he's met me at my work place, and other things which we'll get into later, I'm not for it)

So, Ik...I KNOW it's my complete fault for giving him my number. I do I know I KNOW-

I thought about giving him a fake number, but it's now obvious he is a local and a regular who now knows the days that I work and I'm lucky none of my coworkers (at the time) really witness what was happening but I'd hate for him to come on Sunday and just call me out in front of everyone. Ik they would completely support me in giving a fake number but it's just that I'm...extremely concerned what people think of me? I know it was mistake to not just say no or at least say "Oh I'm flattered but I'm at work I don't wanna get in trouble maybe if you see me out of here?". But yeah, always terrified of conflict. Even with strange men who, turns out - are correctly middle school teachers.

After I give him my number (the entire time I'm saying it'd be okay if I didn't and he's like...Yeah, but look at you - you're giving it to me now lol?), I asked him where in the town he works and he said the school.

Oh...and if there was any interest then, it just left me. Listen, maybe I can appear more innocent in the fact that sure, I secretly actually wanted to go out with him, then gave him my number only to find out a piece of information that completely turns me off.

I ask him if it's the high school or the middle school and he goes "middle school". It doesn't matter, I went to both. It just...weirded out, because another thing you may want to know about me is that I am 19 turning 20, but I still look 14, which fun

I'm not even exaggerating, it shows in when I told my story to my co-workers, all of whom got kinda weirded out that a man who looked to be in his thirties asked me out because they said, I quote "No offense, but you look...younger than you are. Like, not above the age of 18 younger...so I can't imagine someone even in their mid twenties thinking you'd be able to date." Like damn alright ig if you say so, but I know it too, so that's probably another reason why I just found him...weird? Like, I know you're thirty and over and I'm almost twenty, which fine. But you KNOW I might not be of age or don't look it, so that mixed in with the fact that he works at a middle school that my sisters only left a couple of years ago...I just, idk man. I know I'm an adult but in my head, my old teachers and teachers in general are just mentor and near-parental figures in my head so it's like...I can't date that.

Maybe if you were ten years older and a cartel member or a whiny billionaire or SSA Hotchner sorry dude

Which, that shows when he asks me how old am I. Then he goes "At least college aged?"

I say "19 turning 20" and he just tilts his head from side to side and goes "Yeah, that's doable."

I want to give the world a peaceful thought, that this man was meaning to say "Yeah, that works or that's okay" and not doable. Like, YOU ARE do-able because

But even with the "Yeah, that works" option out of the two, it's still weird IDK but it's still WEIRD. And it turns out he's not even a long-time local, he's moved here pretty recently within the year, and now he's texting me to see if I should go out to dinner with him. I, now with the whole doable thing, have managed to not care if he thinks I'm a flaker or a coward, But I'm thinking I should straight up just apologize and say "Sorry, I'm super flattered you thought me worthy of taking me out and I wish I was at a time where dating would be easy, but to not waste your time, I'll just say that as much as I want to, I can't really be going out right now".

It sounds like it's easy enough to message so I can just get it over with, and a soft enough rejection that even if he does show up, that my immense anxiety is just gonna have to be shoved down my throat. I'll take that over him still pursuing me or just 'wasting his time' and 'leading him on'. I'll probably do that and just come to the conclusion that if I do, he won't think me so worthy of pursuing (harassing), even though I'm super amazing at my job

Not only are fictional men more tolerable but this would be more tolerable and easier if I was a fictional woman - and sorry for the overly long rant that is not even nearly as interesting or as terrible as some of these types of stories are. Writing just helps get the shivers out lol

[themodernwitchsguide]

working with pendulums

now, theoretically pendulums could be anything, however I recommend something uniform (ish) in shape and fairly weighty. you need to be able to discern when your pendulum is just moving because of the wind, and when it's moving to tell you something. some good examples are crystals, raw or cut, and metal. look out for resin and glass dupes as these do not work as well

i've seen a few theories on how pendulums work, whether they have their own spiritual energy to move themselves or if they can stimulate your muscles just subtly enough to move them in the right directions. either way, don't worry too much about your own interference here. more often than not, you'll be able to tell when they're moving on their own and when it's just shaky hands/wind

HOW TO START

first of all, find a pendulum that speaks to you. then ask it if it's willing to work with you

second, i usually like to cleanse my pendulums, but not too hardcore. just some salt, selenite or herbs will do the trick here, we're looking to wash other people's hands off here, not the actual spirit of the thing

then, when you first start speaking with your pendulum, you want to tackle the conversations with something in between a "you work for me" and "you work with me" vibe. still ask permission before someone else touches it, before you take pictures, etc. i've even known people to ask before using them at all. whatever you think is right

it's also important to get to know your pendulum. what direction is yes? what direction is no? not all pendulums swing the same way. additionally, most pendulums i've met have name and pronoun preferences, so suggest whatever calls to you and then ask if they like it

DECIDE THEIR PURPOSE

i've known people to use pendulums for a variety of things. some examples include:

-assistance with tarot

-regular divination (answering the yes/no questions you ask)

-connection to a god (this is what I do)

-talking with spirits (see image below for an alphabet chart)

-and in the darkest of times, it's nice to just to have a friend

again, it's very important you talk to your pendulums before you decide because sometimes they don't wanna be tied down

HOW TO INCORPORATE A PENDULUM INTO YOUR PRACTICE

in tarot:

1) after shuffling, separate your deck into a number of piles, have your pendulum choose which pile you should read from (this is especially useful for very broad or general readings)

2) after shuffling, lay out a series of individual cards that you feel drawn to. then have your pendulum choose individual cards (this is especially useful if you're doing a reading for someone else, since you can have the recipient hold the pendulum that chooses the cards)

with deity work:

1) have them represent an altar or space dedicated to your deity. this might not serve any practical use, but a guardian for an altar is never a bad thing

2) dedicate it to a deity and attempt communication with them. this can be iffy for some people, depending on your beliefs. in my eyes, a god does not have to be one corporeal being, having to dedicate their singular consciousness to a singular task as a human does. gods are multifaceted, primordial beings that have fingers in many different pots, so to speak. therefore, it is not outside the realm of possibility to communicate with a deity in this way, since moving a pendulum to say yes or no isn't all that deeply personal. REMEMBER, if you do this, the pendulum's spirit is still there, and you are more than capable of separating a pendulum from a deity or communicating with the two separately OR harming the pendulum while trying some risky business with a deity

WHAT TO DO WITH THEM IN THE MEAN TIME

when i'm not using them, i like to keep my pendulums hung up on my altar space, overlooking my room. however, i DO NOT keep them in direct sun because the crystals will fade with exposure to UV. sometimes i'll bring them out to the window during a full moon though

some other ideas would be:

-in a window that doesn't receive much direct sunlight

-in mesh baggies (so they don't get tangled or lost) on your altar

-hung on a wall, thumbtacks are useful for this

-if you only have one or two, it's not outside of the realm of possibility to carry them around with you. some pendulums really enjoy this too

-with your other crystals, as long as they're separated enough so that they won't get tangled or lost

happy witching!

[shonenkun309]

Koga's Birthday story card 2024 :

[Translation] (not an accurate translation)

@just-somehuman @the-bird-and-the-flute @kogasimp1 @colourless-hydrangeas @randomf2p @blackmond11 @girlinthetardis04

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Part 1 :

...May 7th is the birthday of an important person.

Futaba : "Happy birthday, Koga."

Koga : "Oh, thank you."

I came to Koga's house and enthusiastically handed him the lunch box I had brought.

Futaba : "I made this. Please try it if you like."

Koga : "Oh, it looks delicious."

Futaba : "I've included the side dish you said you liked before."

Koga : "I'll take it then."

Koga happily eats my lunch.

(Tonight is Koga's usual party with the rest of the Ayakashi)

Until then, I had come to Koga's house in the afternoon so that we could spend some time together.

Futaba : "Is there any place you want to go after you eat your lunch? Shopping, going for a walk, anything?"

Koga stopped using his chopsticks and looked at me.

Koga : "let's just stay at home."

Koga's hand gently rested on mine, his eyes suddenly narrowed as he looked at me.

Koga : "I just need you."

Futaba : "Koga..."

Just hearing those words fills my heart with joy.

Koga : "Futaba..."

I looked back at Koga, and my face gradually got closer to his...

(I feel happy...)

I closed my eyes at the premonition of a sweet kiss, and at that moment I thought our lips would touch.

Masanobu : "Koga-niichan! Happy birthday!"

Futaba : "...!"

Koga : "...!"

We suddenly pulled away from each other when we heard a voice coming from the front door.

Masanobu came to celebrate Koga's birthday.

Masanobu : "Oh, Futaba-neechan is here too. Hello!"

Futaba : "Hello, Masanobu."

Masanobu entered the living room and happily turned to Koga.

Masanobu : "I made this, it's a gift for Koga-niichan."

Koga : "These seem like a sturdy looking menko*, thank you, I'll cherish it."

Koga smiled as he accepted Masanobu-kun's gift.

Masanobu : "niichan, are you busy lately? Please train me in kendo again."

Koga : "Okay, next time."

(Masanobu really likes Koga...)

As I watched the interaction between the two with a smile on my face...

Kanji : "Hello, this is Kanji from Kanemotoya."

Another voice came from the front door. The person who came was Kanji, the current owner of Kanemotoya shop, a glass wholesaler in Asakusa.

Kanji : "I happened to be nearby for a delivery...and there I heard that it's Koga's birthday, congratulations."

Koga : "Thank you, how are businesses going?"

Kanji : "Thanks to you, I managed... You look like you're doing well."

Koga : "Yes, I'm glad you're doing well too."

Kanji, who I met through a small incident a while ago, is also familiar to me.

Kanji : "More importantly, you like sake, right? If you like this, please."

Koga : "This is good sake. Sorry for the trouble."

As Koga received the sake, another voice came from the entrance.

Visitor : "Excuse me."

(Wha- again!)

After that, guests continued to come in one after another-- Before I knew it, many people had gathered in the living room.

(In the blink of an eye, the number of people had increased. Gifts came one after another...!)

Kuya : *Yawn* ...Huh?

Kuya, who had apparently been sleeping in his room, wakes up and tilts his head as he looks at the living room.

Kuya : ...I thought the party was gonna be at night?"

Futaba : "That was the plan, but..."

People came one after another to congratulate Koga, and it had already turned into a party.

Visitor : "Congratulations,Mr. Koga! After all, the Capital needs someone like you, young Kitamikado."

Koga : "Haha, I'd be happy if you're serious about it."

(I'm happy that so many people are celebrating with Koga. I guess this means our plans to spend time alone together are over)

I was looking forward to it too, so I'm a little sad about that.

(Koga is really popular, isn't he?)

Kuya : "Well, I guess this is normal, but..."

Kuya seems used to it, and turns his back to the living room with another yawn.

Futaba : "Eh, Kuya, where are you going?"

Kuya : "The house is too noisy, so I'm gonna take a nap somewhere else."

Futaba : "Wa... wait!"

In a panic, I grab the edge of Kuya's kimono.

Futaba : "At least, Kuya, please stay here."

Kuya : "Why?"

Futaba : "Because I don't know many people here... I'll feel lonely."

Kuya : "It'll be fine if you just act casually, right?"

Futaba : "It's not fine...!"

As I was desperately trying to hold back Kuya, Koga came over to me.

Koga : "Sorry, Futaba."

Futaba : "Koga..."

Koga : "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I'm really sorry."

After saying that, Koga faced the people in the living room.

Koga : "Sorry everyone, that's it--"

(!)

(Koga, you're trying to send the guests home for me...)

Suddenly, I grabbed Koga's hand to stop him.

Futaba : "Koga, it's okay!"

Koga : "...?"

(That's right, I'm not the only one who wants to celebrate Koga, we've always celebrated like this with the people of the Capital)

I held Koga's hand and stared at him.

Futaba : "Please don't worry about me. They've all come all the way here to celebrate you."

Koga : "Yeah, but..."

Visitor 2 : "Excuse me."

While Koga was hesitating, a new voice came from the entrance.

Futaba : "Come on, go!"

Koga : "Ah...ha"

I pushed Koga's back and sent him off with the guests.

(I'd be lying if I said I wasn't lonely...but this is fine.)

Kuya : "..."

Kuya, who was watching us from the door, muttered softly.

Kuya. "...You're having a hard time too."

Futaba : "Eh?"

Kuya : "Nothing."

Kuya : *Yawn*

Kuya yawned again, as if it's nothing to do with him.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Part 2 :

That night, after all the guests who had come to Koga house had left.

The six of us, Koga, Kuya, Aoi, Ginnojo and Yura, were at a restaurant in the entertainment quarter.

Aoi : "...Eh, so you were partying just now? Does that mean this is your second banquet today?”

After I told him the story, Aoi put his hands on his hips in exasperation.

Ginnojo : "When you're as well-known as Koga, even your birthday is a big deal."

Ginnojo pours sake into Koga's sake cup.

Koga : "Well, I'm grateful for that."

Koga gulps down the sake with gusto.

Yura : "I can't ignore the feelings of the people celebrating... By the way, this is a gift from me."

And with that, Yura unfolds the furoshiki cloth he brought with him.

Kuya : "Oh, kintsuba.*"

Yura : "Recently, I've really liked Eitarou's kintsuba**. This is delicious. I can't stop eating it."

Kuya : "Well, let's get started."

Aoi: "Hey, this is a gift for Koga, not you."

After scolding Kuya, Aoi glances at me and Koga.

Aoi : "Well, birthdays are important days for both the person celebrating and the person being celebrated."

Kuya: "..."

Kuya, who had been listening to this, swallowed his kintsuba and looked at me.

Kuya : "What about you?"

Futaba : "Eh?"

Kuya : "Did you celebrate with Koga?"

(Ah...)

Somehow, I could tell what Kuya was trying to say and that he was trying to give me a push.

Koga : "Of course. She was the first one to--"

Futaba : "Um... Yes!"

I boldly interrupted Koga.

Futaba: "But... please, give me some time to celebrate again later."

Koga: "..."

Ginnojo & Aoi : "..."

Yura : "..."

Kuya : "..."

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

Aoi : "Ah, yes yes."

Eventually, Aoi spoke up as if he understood.

Aoi : "In other words, you two didn't have time to celebrate alone, right?"

Yura: "In that case, you should celebrate again just the two of you. I'll eat this kintsuba."

Ginnojo: "Don't worry about us."

Futaba : "Well, I don't mean right now..."

Koga: "Guess I'll do that then."

Koga stands up, looks at me and holds out his hand.

Koga : "Come on, let's go."

For just a moment, I looked back and forth between Koga's outstretched hand and Kuya and the others-

Futaba: "Yes!"

Savouring the joy, I took the hand.

After leaving the restaurant, we returned to Koga's house by carriage. In stark contrast to the daytime, the living room was completely silent.

Koga : "I'll go make some tea, so you can go to my study."

Futaba : "Yes, thank you."

As instructed, I came to Koga's study by myself.

(...what should I do? I'm starting to get anxious now)

As I was alone in the quiet room, a sudden feeling of guilt overwhelmed me.

(I know Koga was worried about me earlier, but I'm sure he likes lively places too, I guess I said something unnecessary after all...)

It started to seem wrong to have cut everyone's time short.

Koga: "Futaba?"

When Koga came back, he saw me with my head down and called out to me.

Koga : "What's wrong, Futaba?"

Futaba: "...Koga... I'm sorry."

I apologised to Koga without being able to lift my head.

Koga : "Sorry... what do you mean?"

Futaba : "Well, I think everyone wanted to celebrate you, Koga. I was being selfish..."

Koga: "..."

Futaba : "--Wah"

Then, before I could finish, I was grabbed around the waist and lifted up.

Futaba: "K... Koga?!"

Koga: "Hey, don't move."

Koga makes me sit at the desk and bends down so that our eyes are at eye level.

Koga: "So, who's being selfish?"

As he looks at me from so close, my heart beats sweetly.

Futaba : "Me..."

Koga: "They were okay with it, so it's not selfish at all, I'm happy I can finally enjoy you."

Futaba: "..."

Koga's gentle voice made my heart lighten a little, and I smiled.

Futaba: "Hehe, Koga, you're so popular it's a bit of a problem."

Koga: "It's a great birthday to hear such a cute line from you."

Koga smiled as well, and we gazed into each other's eyes.

Soon that wasn't enough, so I gently grabbed the edge of Koga's kimono.

Futaba: "Koga..."

Koga: "...Oh, that reminds me, I was going to have to put it off."

As if remembering, Koga gave me a light kiss.

I feel a little sad as he lightly touches me and then quickly leaves me.

(Is that it...?)

His words had shown on his face...

Koga : "...Ha, haha..."

Koga laughed out loud and leaned in close again.

Koga: "Hey, that face is sneaky."

Kouga: "When did you get so good at begging?"

Futaba: "N-no, that's not true."

Suddenly feeling embarrassed when he said it out loud, I quickly denied it.

Futaba: "But..."

Noticing my cheeks getting a little warm, I stare intently at Koga again.

Futaba : "If that's the case, then it's your fault, Koga. It's because you're so mean to me."

Koga : "Okay, okay, let me try again."

Futaba: "Hmm..."

Koga smiles and covers my lips with a kiss again.

Futaba : "Koga..."

Koga: "Yeah, I'm here --Now, I'm yours alone."

We kissed each other countless times, spending a sweet night together–

{The End}

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Menko : Is a Japanese card game played by two or more players. It is also the name of the type of cards used to play this game. Each player uses Menko cards made from thick paper or cardboard, printed on one or both sides with images from anime, manga, and other works.

Eitarou : a neighbourhood located in the Taito ward of Tokyo, Japan. It is known for its vibrant atmosphere and rich cultural heritage.

Kintsuba : Kintsuba cake is a traditional Japanese cake that originated in the Edo period (1603-1868). It is made from a sweet and fluffy sponge cake, filled with a rich and creamy custard filling, and then covered with a layer of smooth chocolate or caramel glaze.