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#STOP TRYING TO TELL OTHERS WHAT THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO LIKE
miaaluvspaige · 3 days
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Title: Playing the Part
Parring : Caitlin Clark x reader
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It had all started as a joke. A casual comment made during lunch with your friends, a harmless *what if* scenario that was never supposed to lead anywhere. But somehow, Caitlin Clark had overheard, and now, here you were—walking into a packed house party, your hand tightly clasped in hers, trying to convince everyone that the two of you were a couple.
The whole “fake dating” thing had seemed like a brilliant solution at the time. Caitlin needed a way to get her teammates off her back. They’d been teasing her constantly, trying to set her up with random girls, and she was fed up. You, on the other hand, had been sick of your ex showing up at every party, flaunting their new relationship. So when Caitlin came to you with the idea, it seemed like a win-win.
You were friends, after all. Pretending to date couldn’t be *that* hard… right?
Right.
---
**The Party**
The moment you and Caitlin stepped through the front door, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. People were watching you two, whispering, glancing back and forth between you as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. You tried to stay calm, reminding yourself that this was just for show.
“You okay?” Caitlin whispered as she leaned down to your ear, her voice soft but filled with concern.
You nodded, flashing her a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… getting into character, I guess.”
Caitlin laughed, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Relax. We’ve got this.”
Together, you navigated through the crowd, exchanging casual small talk with people who stopped to say hi. Every so often, Caitlin would drape her arm around your shoulders or place a hand on your waist—just enough to keep up the charade without overdoing it. But each time she touched you, your heart skipped a beat. It was silly, you knew. This was all pretend.
At one point, Caitlin leaned in again, her breath warm against your skin. “Heads up, your ex is here.”
Your stomach clenched as you followed her gaze across the room. Sure enough, your ex was standing by the drinks table, deep in conversation with a group of mutual friends. A wave of anxiety swept through you, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself.
“Do you want to leave?” Caitlin asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern. She kept her body close to yours, as though shielding you from any awkward encounters.
“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Let’s just… keep playing the part.”
Without missing a beat, Caitlin slipped her hand into your back pocket, pulling you a little closer. It was subtle, but anyone watching would definitely take notice. Your ex included.
You felt their eyes on you, the tension between you and Caitlin suddenly charged with an electricity you hadn’t expected. It was as though the air around you had shifted, and for a brief moment, you forgot this was all just an act.
---
**A Week Later: The Game**
The next week, Caitlin had a huge game. The Hawkeyes were facing off against one of their biggest rivals, and the entire campus was buzzing with excitement. As always, you were in the stands, cheering her on. But tonight, things felt… different.
Ever since the party, you and Caitlin had kept up the fake relationship act for your friends. And for the most part, it had been easy—almost too easy. There were moments when you could barely tell where the line between pretending and reality blurred.
Sometimes, when Caitlin grabbed your hand in between classes or smiled at you during practice, you’d catch yourself wondering if there was something real beneath it all. You’d shake the thought away, reminding yourself that this was all just for fun. But the more time you spent with her, the harder it became to convince yourself that you weren’t feeling something more.
The game that night was intense, as expected. Caitlin was on fire, driving down the court, draining three-pointers like she’d been doing it her whole life. The crowd erupted every time she scored, and you found yourself beaming with pride.
But your focus wasn’t entirely on the game. It was on Caitlin. The way she moved, the way she commanded the court with such confidence and skill—it was mesmerizing. She had this effortless grace about her, and you couldn’t help but feel a little awestruck every time you watched her play.
When the final buzzer rang out and Iowa secured the win, the gym exploded into cheers. You stood up, clapping and shouting with the rest of the crowd. Caitlin’s teammates rushed onto the court, congratulating her on yet another stellar performance. You were about to make your way down to join the celebration when you saw her break away from the group, her eyes scanning the stands.
Before you knew it, Caitlin was heading straight for you, her expression soft but determined. You barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight, celebratory hug. The crowd went wild, assuming they were witnessing an adorable couple moment.
But when Caitlin set you back down on the ground, the look in her eyes wasn’t just for show. There was something else there. Something real.
Your heart thudded in your chest as she leaned in close, her forehead resting gently against yours. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
You swallowed hard, your emotions suddenly all over the place. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice soft. “We do.”
---
**Later: The Confession**
It wasn’t until later that night, after the post-game celebrations had wound down, that the tension between you two came to a head. You were both back at her apartment, sitting on her couch, the remnants of the adrenaline from the game still coursing through your veins.
Caitlin was scrolling through her phone, absentmindedly playing with the hem of her sweatshirt. You sat beside her, feeling the weight of unspoken words between you.
Finally, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Caitlin,” you said softly, your voice hesitant but determined.
She looked up, her expression curious. “What’s up?”
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I… I think I’m starting to have real feelings for you.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Caitlin’s eyes widened, her phone forgotten as she stared at you in surprise. Your heart pounded in your chest, the vulnerability of your confession hanging heavy in the air.
But then, slowly, a small smile crept onto her face. “You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait… what?”
Caitlin laughed softly, reaching out to take your hand. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” she admitted, her eyes searching yours. “This fake dating thing… it stopped feeling fake for me a while ago. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
Your heart swelled at her words, a wave of relief washing over you. “So… this is real?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Caitlin nodded, her thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “It’s real.”
Before you could even process what was happening, Caitlin leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was slow and sweet, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for weeks. When she pulled back, her smile was radiant.
“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” Caitlin said, her voice barely a whisper as she looked into your eyes. “I want this. For real.”
You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Me too.”
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Mia speaks
If you haven’t noticed I’ve been posting a lot today these are all my drafts I’m spending a few minutes fixing them all up and posting them
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Stirring the Quiet - Sweet Mistakes
Jenna Ortega x Female Reader
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Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace—famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?
Word Count: 1.1k
The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe— mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people famous—or not trying to enjoy their coffee.
We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule—a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door—one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.
I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh—You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.
As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to—oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.
Jenna Ortega.
I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.
Jenna—freakin'—Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen worse." I swallowed, trying to play it cool, even though my hands were suddenly very sweaty. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting..." I trailed off, realizing how dumb I sounded. I mean, who was I expecting? Jenna looked around cautiously, lowering her mask completely once she realized no one had recognized her. "I just...needed to get away for a bit. You guys are pretty discreet." I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, absolutely. This is a judgment-free zone. No one here will treat you like, you know...you." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and I tried not to stare. "Good. I could use a place like that right now." "Well, you found it," I said, sending her a warm smile. "Is the other barista not here today?" she asked, fumbling with the strings of her hoodie. "Wilma? Yeah, she's hiding in the back. I can go get her if you'd like?" she softly cleared her throat, "No, that's alright, she just knows my usual." "Well, I promise not to screw it up." I smiled, flipping back to a blank notepad page. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. I'll have an iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream." She smiled back at me. I nodded, jotting it down and turning back to the counter. "Coming right up." As I worked on her drink, I couldn't help but glance back over. There she was, sitting quietly, reading a book with her headphones around her neck, looking a lot more calm. Just another person needing some space and quiet in a world of phones, lights, and cameras 24/7. It felt great that our little café was something special for people. Not just because of the stars who might show up but because we somehow created a space where people could just be. And that? That was worth all the spilled sugar in the world.
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angellayercake · 2 days
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Banchetto: Formaggi e Frutta
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Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW
AO3 | Insalata | Masterpost
Selecting the pairings for cheese can be deceptively complicated. Anyone can put some cheese on a tray and call it done but for it to be truly good some serious thought needs to be done. Texture, flavour, sweet vs savoury, creamy vs crunchy, all build up to a well rounded dish. The first bite of a juicy grape paired with tang of a strong cheddar, or the sweet bitterness of cranberry with the mellow creaminess of a brie. Every element has to work together to create a bigger experience. If you make these choices with care then you will have a show stopping course and all you had to do was some slicing.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You had been lingering in his office. He was perched on the edge of his desk with his arms locked around you, preventing you from leaving and ending your time together for the day. The two of you had been in this position for at least half an hour, every time you tried to extricate yourself he would pull you in for one last kiss which became two, then three, then he would remember another important matter you just had to discuss right now. So far you had covered Cabaret the musical, why linen was the superior summer material, his favourite type of pen to do signings and the lies he used to tell people about ghoul mating habits. And now you were discussing your favourite cheeses.
‘I honestly have to say I don’t think I have tried a cheese I didn't like,’ you admit after listening to him explain why Italian cheeses were by far the best in the world. He wrinkles his nose at you, shaking his head in disgust. As inconsequential as these topics were, you enjoyed hearing his typically outlandish opinions and his passionate defence of them. You may have even been guilty of disagreeing with him deliberately from time to time just to enjoy his attempts to convince you of his point of view. 
‘Even the stinky ones?’ He looks like even just thinking of them is a displeasure he can’t abide, the charmingly emphasised wrinkles above the bridge of his nose almost distracting you from his argument. ‘The French, thinking they can get away with crimes against dairy just because of a few good ones,’ he grumbles, pulling a laugh from you. 
‘I think the English are guilty of that too, I am afraid,’ you remind him. ‘Have you ever tried Stinking Bishop?’
‘Ugh!! Never and I never will,’ he shakes his head again refusing to even entertain the thought. ‘But, cara mia, that is why everything Italian is far superior,’ he says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively and you suspect he isn’t just talking about cheese any more.
‘With what I have learned in the last few months I can’t say I disagree,’ you reply against his lips as he is already reeling you in for another kiss. You don’t let him distract you for too much longer though this time. ‘I don’t think you should judge a cheese until you try it with accompaniments though. The right flavours paired with the right cheese can make all the difference.’ 
‘I suppose there is some truth to what you say, mia cuocoina,’ he trails off for a moment looking like he is waging a battle internally before he takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Speaking of cheese, did you know there is a farmers market in town this weekend? I have heard they have very many types of cheese on sale there.’
‘I had heard, yes. It happens every month.’ You think back fondly to those trips out of the Abbey with Mona. ‘We used to take it in turns to go and pick up some obscure ingredients as a challenge for the others. I haven’t had a chance to go for a while.’
‘Would you like to go to this one? With me?’ His hesitancy makes your heart melt. How this man could ever think you wouldn’t want to go with him you have no idea? As if you don’t willingly spend almost every moment of your free time with him.
‘Are you asking me on a date, Terzo?’ You tease, hoping to ease his worry a little. The two of you may have done everything backwards but you can’t help the little thrill you get from the idea of him taking you on a proper date. He had been watching you nervously as he waited for your response but at your gentle teasing the corner of his lips pulled up in a smile even as a light blush crawled across his cheeks. 
‘Si, I am,’ he says simply, lifting his head and looking you directly in the eyes, hypnotising you for a moment in his gaze.
‘I would love to go with you,’ you reply as soon as you snap out of it, not wanting to leave him hanging any longer. His wide smile always takes your breath away and you stand there for far too long, just grinning at each other before you realise you do really need to leave. You give him one last kiss before making your way back to your room, mind full of your upcoming date. 
The morning arrives and you are up early having explained to Terzo that the earlier you get there the better. It would be less busy, you got the best pick of the produce and all the tasters won’t have sat out for so long. Taking your advice he had agreed to leave the Abbey around nine, and also on your advice you both were skipping breakfast, not wanting to fill yourselves up before you get there. But his morning coffee is non-negotiable… 
After getting ready you let yourself into his rooms and start the coffee machine. You can hear him moving about already so you don’t worry about getting him up, but instead have time to fuss about… well, everything. You smooth your hands over your outfit as you wait letting your nerves get the better of you for a second. It’s not to say you didn’t usually make an effort with your appearance, you did, but your clothes and hair had to be practical when cooking even if just for him. This was the first time you had had the opportunity to dress up and for some reason it had your stomach in knots. 
You wore your hair down today, letting the dark waves cascade down your back where they were usually secured in a bun and your make up was light as you had considered the time of day - just a subtle base and some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick to add a little emphasis to your features. The dress you picked was one you had never worn before. It was black, as was the majority of your wardrobe, but the light cotton fell softly over your figure, the hem ending at your mid-calf. It was buttoned up from your chest to your knees, giving a glimpse of leg and decolletage you hoped would capture his attention without flaunting too much. The puff sleeves and broderie anglaise finish the look and make it, in your opinion, the perfect dress for a date at the farmers market.
Just as you finish the coffee you hear him come to the door. You turn around a cup in each hand to catch him frozen in the doorway. With one hand he is clinging to the door frame and then other is laid dramatically over his heart. He is looking at you as if he has never seen you before. He looks incredible himself, his hair slicked back as you had not seen it for a long time and his face surprisingly clear of his paints, given you were leaving the Abbey. He is wearing an off-white revere collar shirt, habitually unbuttoned half way down his chest over tailored linen trousers in a soft dove grey with black woven loafers. He has a matching linen blazer over his arm, and he looks like he has just stepped out of the pages of a Milanese fashion magazine.
‘Good morning, Terzo,’ you greet as you go to hand him his coffee but he ignores it in favour of pulling you in for a kiss, letting go of the door frame and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and letting his hand glide down your body over the smooth fabric. You hum into his mouth enjoying his attentions but slightly worried about spilling coffee on you both as you hold them over his shoulders. ‘I could get used to this sort of greeting,’ you say when he lets you pull away, still seemingly at a loss for words. 
‘Grazie,’ he whispers, finally taking his coffee and savouring the first sip before continuing, letting his eyes roam all over you. ‘You are, well… beautiful doesn’t even cover it, I think. Sei una visione di bellezza, come non ne ho mai viste.’ He does this every now and then, slipping into his native tongue when he can’t seem to find the words to express himself in English. You don’t understand what he is saying but the sentiment is clear, so you let the melodic words wash over you and let your smile widen in response. 
‘You are looking very handsome today too.’ You cup his cheek with your now free hand and let him nuzzle into your palm. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’ 
‘Me too, cara mia.’ He places his hand over yours before taking it in his. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘I’ve got my coffee, I've got you, I don't think I need anything else. And if we leave now everyone will still be at breakfast so we shouldn’t be bothered.’ With a nod and a smile he leads you from the kitchen through his rooms and out to the corridor, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You realise then that this is probably going to be the first time he has left the Abbey since returning from the last tour and what a big step this must be for him, as well as the two of you. You walk through the corridors quickly, leaving a plausible distance between you in case you were seen by anyone but before you reach the main entrance he leads you down an old corridor that, as far as you knew, only led to an older unused wing of the Abbey. 
‘Where are we going?’ You ask him as you follow him along the twists and turns of the dusty corridor but he just shushes you and continues as though he is looking for something. To your surprise he ignores the few doors you pass coming to a stop at an old painting covered in dust, which depicts what you can only assume is a life-sized satanic knight posing in his armour in the landscape of hell. Without any further explanation he feels around the edge of the frame until you hear a click and the painting swings forward revealing a secret set of stairs leading down to a door where you can see slivers of daylight seeping in where it has warped in its frame. Taking your hand he helps you down the steps before having to give the door a shove once, then twice before it opens and you find yourselves at the side of the main Abbey just outside the tall garden wall.  
‘This is the way we used to go when we didn’t want anyone to see us leaving,’ he says, shooting you a mischievous grin. ‘When we were boys especially and the older sisters wouldn’t give us the time of day we would sneak into town…’ He trails off realising the story he was about to tell you and his expression turns a little sheepish. ‘Well, you know how teenage boys can be.’ You shake your head at him good naturedly but take his offered hand so he can lead you down what is clearly a well trodden path through the public gardens to a side gate that opens on the main road into town.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The first and arguably most important consideration when preparing a dish like this is making everything bitesize. Slice things too small and the flavours will not balance well, slice things too big and you will end up with all sorts of mess, but getting it just right? A slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, a spoonful of chutney, a sliver of meat could all fit on a cracker and be eaten in one perfect bite.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It is a short pleasant walk especially on a morning like this. The Abbey is about half a mile from the town and despite the occasional comment or funny look, the residents seem to have accepted sharing the area with a satanic church a long time ago. The residents of the Abbey brought a lot of business to the local shops and trades people, doing their best to contribute to the community they were fringe members of which served to strengthen the tolerance of their presence. You yourself had good relationships with the local food stores, avoiding spending your budget at the supermarket as much as you could, so you had never experienced anything but a sideways glance from some of the more conservative members of the community. 
After about fifteen minutes you reach the town square which is already bustling with life even at this early hour of the weekend. Rows and rows of stalls fill the usually open space and there are already plenty of shoppers drifting from stall to stall. Having finished your coffees, you take his and put them in the nearest bin before pausing so you can come up with a plan of action.
‘When I come with Mona we try to be strategic,’ you explain as you try and suss out what the closest stalls are selling.
‘Oh, and why is this? To get the best produce? The best deals?’ He asks inquisitively, tilting his head as he thinks. You wish you could say those were the reasons but it was much less professional.
‘Nope. It is so we don’t get too full before we have eaten everything we want.’ He laughs loudly, clearly surprised at your reasoning but you try your best to keep your face straight. ‘It is important you know!’ you insist as his laughter calms.
‘You have been training me up for this moment, no?’ he says, patting his belly and winking at you knowingly.
‘Bigger appetites than yours have been defeated by the farmer’s market tasters, I will have you know,’ you respond, doing your best not to get distracted by his insinuation.
‘Psh, I could eat one of everything and still have room for whatever delicious dish you have planned for tonight.’ He winds his arm around your waist pulling you against his side as you walk together to the first stall. You can’t keep up your serious façade, his confidence and manhandling bringing a flush to your cheeks, at least until you realise what he said.
‘Need I remind you it is Saturday and my day off.’ You prod him in the side in retaliation and he jumps slightly when you catch his ticklish spot. He grabs your finger before you can poke him again, a little tug of war ensuing before he lets you free with a stern look.
‘Well I can cook for you then,’ he says, snapping his fingers as the idea comes to him. You dip your head for a moment, your chest feeling full at his insistence you spend even more of today together. Until the reality of him cooking anything for you sinks in. You had long suspected that he lacked even the most basic cooking skills, which was confirmed the only time you ever let him try to help you.
‘And what exactly are you going to cook for me?’ You ask as you reach the first stall filled with assorted jars of conserves and jams.
‘I will cook…’ He pauses, looking around at the closet stalls. ‘Cheese!’ he exclaims loudly, drawing some looks and a chuckle from the cheesemonger a couple of stalls over. He clears his throat, quieting his voice. ‘Cheese, cara mia, like we talked about the other night. Cheese and crackers and fruit and chutney. Like this!’ He picks up a jar of spiced cranberry chutney from the stall.
‘That will be 55 krona please, sir,’ the lady behind the stall tells him. He hands the jar to you and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing her cash and insisting she keep the change. 
‘That’s not exactly cooking is it,’ you scoff, putting the jar in one of the many tote bags you had thought to bring along. ‘But that being said, I would be happy to join you this evening.’ 
‘Maybe not but I can assure you I will put a lot more effort into dessert,’ he replies with a smirk as he pulls you towards the cheesemonger. ‘Now, Signior, I need a selection of your best cheese for mia cuocoina, and a little advice.’ 
He leads the way around the market, insisting on tasting this and that and asking questions of the vendors about flavour pairings and serving suggestions until your tote bags are beginning to weigh you both down. You find a bench at the edge of the square and flop down onto it taking the weight off your aching shoulders. He follows after you, sliding the bags to one side so he can sit right beside you. 
‘Try this, cara mia,’ he holds a small pastry to your lips, one he has already tried if the tell tale crumbs around his lips were anything to go buy. You almost refuse, your tactical plan having flown out the window long ago at his insistence you taste test almost everything. He looks at you beseechingly though and you cave, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed it to you. Before he can pull away though you close your lips around his fingers, getting your own back the only way you can right now. He freezes, his pupils blown wide as he watches you suck the tips of his fingers. 
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ A voice you recognise breaks through your lustful haze. You almost choke between the pastry and Terzo whipping his fingers from your mouth as if they were burning. You swallow your mouthful without even registering if it was nice or not as you turn to see Lilly and Rich stood before you. You jump up quickly, offering them each a hug, then trying to stand between them and Terzo, wracking your brain to explain why you were out in public with Papa's fingers in your mouth. 
‘Hi guys, what a lovely surprise. You should really try the pastries from over there, they are very good…’ You can feel your face burning completely at a loss on how to explain away what they must have seen.
‘Will Papa hand feed them to us as well?’ Rich asks sardonically, looking at you with your eyebrows raised as if waiting for an answer. At least until Lilly elbows him sharply in the ribs. 
‘It’s so nice to see you and to see you too, Papa. Hello!’ She says leaning around you to offer Terzo a wave. He stands dusting crumbs from his face and his shirt and carefully keeping some space between you as he shifts to see them both. 
‘Hello, Sister…’ He glances at you and you realise he has never met them before and some introductions are in order.
‘Lilly, Ter… Papa, this is Lilly and Rich. We work together in the kitchens.’ Lilly smiles at him offering another wave which he returns but Rich still doesn’t look impressed, clearly wanting to confront you both on what he saw.
‘Ah, si. Hello, Sister Lilly and Brother Rich. And I can assure you those pastries are delicious whether fed from my own hands or not.’ He switches his Papa persona on, and it’s a little jarring after all this time. ‘Sorella here, I have tired her out having her carry all these bags of things I wanted. I thought I better not tire her arms any further.’ 
‘Right,’ Rich replies slightly at a loss for words. You don’t think his story has helped the situation at all but though he looks a little awkward and uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem like Terzo really minds the two of you getting caught, so you take a deep breath and relax.
‘All this shopping and eating… I could do with another coffee, I think. Si…’ He nods to himself, already heading towards the coffee stall. ‘Anyone else?’ He asks almost as an afterthought and you all nod. ‘Four coffees then, ok.’ The three of you watch him go but as soon as he is out of earshot, they both turn to you.
‘What the hell was that?’ Rich asks in an angry whisper. ‘I thought you were just doing your job and he was far too stressed about getting fired to try it on? Not that it looked like he had to try that hard…’ He had always been protective of the three of you, but you couldn’t help feeling defensive when he had no idea what had been growing between you.
‘Oh leave her be, they both looked happy while they were doing it. What does it matter?’ You smile at Lilly appreciatively, thankful for her understanding.
‘Guys, please just listen.’ You knew you had to explain something. ‘We, well, look, we just-’ You can’t even find the words to start. It’s not like with Mona where you can tell her everything and she just understands, not that you have time for that anyway. You glance over to the stall and see him standing in line, carefully studying the menu and certainly not looking back over every few seconds. ‘I… I can’t really explain what we are; not at the moment,’ you sigh. ‘But Lilly is right, we are happy, everything is fine.’ 
‘You do look happy, and he looks better too.’ Lilly says reassuringly and you breathe a sigh of relief. 
‘Yeah, no one can accuse you of slacking on feeding him.’ Both you and Lilly turn to glare at him.
‘Don’t be a dick, Rich!’ she admonishes him, treating him to another elbow to the ribs.
‘What?’ He says defensively rubbing his side. ‘He is looking a lot more well-fed than he ever did before.’ It isn’t an apology but it is probably as close as you will get from Rich. 
‘Could you guys just keep this between us, please?’ You feel like you are begging, but the last thing you want is people finding out about the two of you through gossip. You hadn’t really thought about it or discussed it but you were sure that Terzo would like to tell his brothers himself when the time was right.
‘Keep what? There’s nothing to tell anyway, right Rich?’ She threatens him with her elbow one last time but relents when he agrees with a flinch.  
‘Right, nothing to tell.’ The three of you look at him just as he looks away sharply and he gets handed the tray of coffees. You feel a little relief but the silence is awkward as you wait for him to make his way back over. 
‘Caffè for everyone!’ He announces on his return and you each take a cup.
‘Thank you Papa, that was very kind,’ Lilly thanked him genuinely. ‘But we better get going. We have a list. Mona has really taken to bossing us around since you've been gone.’ You know she is joking, but it still sends a pang through you. As happy as you are in your current position, you do miss them. ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you! Bye!’ She grabs Rich by the elbow and drags him away with only one last glare over his shoulder. 
‘Terzo, I’m sorry,’ You say slumping back onto the bench.  
‘They didn’t know about us?’ He asks cautiously. He sits beside you but leaves enough space to be considered decent and keeps his hands to himself. You can’t decide if you are disappointed or not. 
‘No, they didn’t.’ You shoot him a sideways glance and he is looking down at his coffee, his expression unreadable. 
‘So, you haven’t spoken to anyone about…?’ He trails off, neither of you at a point of being able to define what is going on between you. ‘Even before, you didn’t seek out your friends?’
‘Well I did… Mona, but I trust her. She would never say anything.’ He holds up a hand to halt you and you feel a bubble of panic starting to grow in your chest.
‘That’s not what I meant, cara mia.’ He finally looks at you now and the bubble dissolves. His eyes are warm, full of care. ‘I am glad you spoke to your friend about this, just as I am glad of her discretion. I would hate to think about you being so upset and also alone.’
‘You were dealing with it all alone.’ His hand rests on the bench between you and you place yours over the top. It feels wrong not to be touching at all during such a conversation. 
‘Ah, I am used to it,’ he says, brushing you off. ‘I am used to it.’ He turns his hand under yours loosely lacing your fingers together. ‘And anyway, I am not alone anymore am I?’ It’s a slow smile that grows across his face, like he is only just realising it now. 
‘No you aren’t,’ you confirm, squeezing his hand and returning his smile. If you had your way he would never be alone again. 
‘May I ask,’ he pauses like he isn’t sure he wants to ask what he is about to say. ‘Why you didn’t tell your other friends?’ But this is something you can easily offer him an answer to.
‘Well it’s just… Lilly is young, she is only twenty. It feels a little odd talking to her about relationships when she feels like a little sister, and Rich? Well, he is the biggest gossip in the whole kitchen. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he just gets a little carried away sometimes.’ You can’t help your fond smile. ‘And he is pretty protective of us, even if he can be a little bit of a dick about it.’
‘I see, I see.’ He seems happy enough accepting your reasons. ‘Are you ok?’ He inches a little closer now, already over keeping a sensible distance. 
‘Yeah, I am.’ You decide even as you are saying it. The confrontation with your friends could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. And it’s better you get caught by your friends then any other random inhabitant of the Abbey. In fact, you should have foreseen this happening, going out together so close to home. You wonder if he feels the same though. ‘Are you?’
‘Si, I think it is time to go home though,’ he says and you nod in agreement. You think you have both had enough excitement for today. ‘I called for a car while I was waiting for the coffee,’ he admits a little sheepishly. 
‘Oh, thank Satan.’ Your relief is palpable, both your full stomach and your sore shoulders thankful. ‘I thought we were going to have to carry all of this back.’ 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Presentation is the second most important consideration and for that you need a suitable foundation. Depending on the number of people you are catering for you need a vessel large enough to hold enough food. The material is less important, dictated by aesthetic preference, whether you prefer wood, glass, slate or porcelain. Consider whether you need vessels for particular ingredients, additional cutlery to serve. By planning for all eventualities you make sure the meal is a success.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
With a plea from you and an order from Terzo a ghoul assists in carrying the bags back to his rooms, leaving them on the kitchen table before departing to wherever it is ghouls go when off duty. You begin to unpack, starting to sort out the haul to put in the appropriate storage but he comes behind you taking your wrists in his hands and steers you back out of the kitchen. 
‘Mia cuocoina please,’ he murmurs against the back of my head. ‘I need peace for the art I am about to create.’ You try to suppress your laugh but it comes out an inelegant snort.
‘I can help,’ you reply, twisting in his arms to look at him. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’ 
‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It is my turn to make food for you!’ He continues shepherding you backwards towards his office. ‘Go have a nap, visit friends, whatever.’ he drops a kiss on your lips before spinning you back around. 
‘You may come back in two hours,’ he swats at your ass as he opens the door and lets you out into the hallway. 
You pause for a moment wondering where you even wanted to go. Going back to your rooms wasn’t very appealing, there were no distractions there and you knew the time would crawl by. The kitchens were out of the question right now if you didn't want to be subjected to the interrogation you were spared in town, something you were keen to avoid as long as possible. The gardens were an option except you could still feel the ache in your arms from carrying the bags around the market and you know for certain if Primo catches you in the garden there was no chance you would be leaving unencumbered by whatever vegetables he could give you. 
Your wandering takes you past the upper clergy offices, mostly dark and unused of a Saturday afternoon but you spot movement behind one of the doors and you are not surprised when you realise whose it is. There is only one person you know that would willingly work on a Saturday and fortunately that was a person you had been meaning to speak to. Since you and Terzo had joined his brothers for lunch in fact. You had no sweet treats prepared for him today but you were sure he could do with a break. He could always do with a break. 
Approaching the closed door you knock softly and wait for him to answer and the slightly frantic scuffling you can hear lets you know you won’t have to wait long. But a few moments pass before he answers the door. His exhaustion is plain on his face, sadly not much different than any of the other times you have seen him lately. 
‘Sorella,’ he says with a tired smile when he registers it is you at his door. ‘How can I help you today?’
‘I found myself at a loose end and saw you were working!’ You explain as he holds the door open for you and gestures to the seat before his desk. ‘And why are you working on a Saturday?’
‘There is so much to do and so little time,’ he says, flopping back into his chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I was not busy today anyway so I thought why waste time when there is so much to catch up on.’ The clergy’s decision to remove Terzo from his position has caused more problems than you had first thought. You can’t help thinking how odd it is that no new Papa had been appointed after all these months when there was clearly a need but you set that aside for now.
‘Even you need a break Cardinal.’ You struggle to keep the worry from your voice.
‘Well you are here, let's have a break now.’ His smiles grows more genuine as he speaks. ‘I wished to speak with you anyway.’ 
‘Yes me too,’ you agree. It makes it easier now that he has brought it up himself. ‘I have been meaning to come and see you since the lunch but well, you know Papa, he was keeping me busy. Even on my day off he had me going into town with him to the farmers market.’ You are starting to worry your blush is becoming permanent and you hope your smile isn’t as sappy as it feels. If you plan to continue keeping your relationship quiet you really need to get better at schooling your reactions. 
‘Si, I imagine Papa has lots to keep you busy.’ he agrees laughing but his face turns serious. ‘He is.. Well he is treating you well Sorella?’ He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully, his fingers coming up to play with his moustache nervously. ‘Like a gentleman? When things are hard I think sometimes he can forget he is a good man.’ You sense that Copia may be talking from personal experience and having seen that side of Terzo yourself you are keen to reassure him.
‘I think I understand what you mean, Cardinal, he …’ You pause thinking over your wording just as carefully. ‘When I first began working for him he was different, while everything was fresh but he, we, found a compromise. He has apologised for some of his more thoughtless actions.’ Copia raises his eyebrows and you panic momentarily. ‘Oh nothing so bad and really, I had a lot of sympathy for his situation. I wasn’t expecting him to be at his best.’ 
‘It was regrettable what happened.’ He takes off his beretta and runs his hands through his hair. ‘It .. well it was unexpected for all of us, I think but it is good to see him doing better.’ He does look genuinely relieved even though the situation has clearly impacted him. ‘All this food seems to be doing the trick eh?’
‘The food probably has helped, yes,’ you laugh, and the rest you thought, keeping that to yourself. ‘But I think it is really just time, Cardinal.’ He would have improved with or without you over time but you do like to think you have helped him move on a little faster then he may have done otherwise. 
‘Now, can we discuss those notes you brought me to translate?’ His direct questions bring you straight back down from your romantic imaginings.
‘I was waiting for you to bring them up.’ You know you owe him something of an explanation  but you are not above waiting to see what he has worked out for himself.  
‘They, well I suppose I don’t know enough to say really,’ he begins confidently before tailing off. ‘But they didn’t read like professional recipes.’
‘That's because they weren’t but Cardinal, it’s not my place to say more, not that I even really know anymore.’ In this at least you can be honest. You could probably make a good guess as to who wrote out the recipes but you aren’t willing to voice that now. ‘He gave me some recipes and he never said where they came from or why that was all he wanted and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask. There were things said at lunch that might have given me some clues but even so.’ 
‘Si, before. I noticed that too.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘It has not been long since I was considered an outsider to them and outsiders really know very little by design. If it hadn’t been announced that I was also Nihils son then that would still be the case. But even though I never grew up the way that they did, well Secondo and Terzo anyway, I was here in the Ministry already and I saw what happened.’ 
You say nothing, waiting for him to continue sensing his need to unburden himself. 
‘I was brought up as an orphan you see and while most children in the church are brought up communally, orphan or otherwise, the Emeritus brothers were always separate.’ He switches into lecture mode but you still hang on his every word. There were very few people you mixed with who had been a member of the church for so long. ‘Primo has always been here, his mother was a Sister of great reputation chosen especially to birth an heir but Terzo and Secondo, their mothers must have met Nihil on his travels because they weren’t brought to the church until the were ten, Secondo only a few months before Terzo.’  
‘What happened to their mothers?’ A part of you feels bad even asking but your curiosity wins out. You would not feel comfortable asking Terzo himself this but it feels like the last piece in a puzzle you had been building since you had accepted this position. 
‘They just carried on with their lives I suppose. I know Primo fought with Nihil about it, that their mother’s should have been invited to join them or at least to visit but it was decided. No distractions, they had had ten years of normal life and now they were to prepare for their future as men of the Emeritus line.’ His expression turns wry as he continues. ‘It makes me almost glad that he didn’t acknowledge me until recently. I might have liked having brothers growing up though.’ You pat his arm where it rests on the desk offering what little comfort you can.  
‘Anyway I know Terzo’s mother tried for a while, sending packages of food and presents for him but I don’t know what happened after that. One day they just stopped coming.’ Your heart clenches, for Terzo, for Copia, for all of them. They may be in some of the most powerful positions in the Clergy but it was clear they had all been forced to sacrifice a lot for the privilege. 
‘It sounds like it wasn’t easy for any of you.’ Like any organisation there were machinations going on far above the notice of normal members like yourself, you weren’t naïve enough to think otherwise but you found it jarring learning that somewhere that had felt immediately like home and safety to you had treated these men so poorly.  
‘No I suppose not.’ He rubs his hands over his face, the conversation having turned heavier than either of you expected. After a moment he offers you a tired smile. ‘Now tell me more about this farmers market.’ You while away the rest of the time describing in detail the stalls and the tasters and when you eventually leave you hope you both are feeling a little lighter. 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Once you have your vessel and your ingredients prepared then all that is left is the arrangement. There are endless ways to arrange the food enticingly. If you want your dish to be eye-catching and mouth watering you must consider the balance of colour and texture. You can create contrast with light and dark meats or cheeses. You may introduce pops of colours with fresh fruits and berries and mix textures with a soft cheese, a juicy fruit and a crisp cracker. Complimentary flavours could be grouped, the arrangement of your board encouraging certain combinations both traditional and daring. Your final result will be a visually appealing and delicious dish to present.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It’s been a long time since you have had to knock before entering his quarters but it feels appropriate now, giving him a chance to finish the final touches to his creation before you enter. You almost reach the point of knocking again, wondering if he hadn’t heard you when he pulls the door open. He was still wearing his shirt and trousers but he had borrowed your apron.
‘This looks good on you,’ you tease, pulling at the strap around his neck, but he only takes your hand and leads you inside.
‘Now cara mia you are in for a treat if I do say so myself.’ When you reach the dining room he stops you, placing his hands over your eyes as he guides you the final distance. ‘No peaking now,’ He says as he positions you at the end of the table. 
‘Ta daaa,’ He uncovers your eyes and as you blink you can’t help but be impressed. The centre of the table is covered in what may be every plate in the kitchen; each one has a different cheese and its suggested accompaniments arranged around it. You had fought valiantly for any cheeses other than Italian but he had refused to budge keen for you to taste all of his favourites. He pours you a glass of wine, a deep red and hands you a glass. 
‘This is Barolo, aged in oak caskets it is the most decadent of Italian wines. The King of wines they call it.’ You take a sip and examine the flavours. It is rich, fruity and floral but with an earthiness that should pair well with your meal this evening. You were by no means a wine expert but your palette was well developed over your career and you can tell an expensive wine when you taste one. 
‘Terzo this is very extravagant,’ you stop when he raises his hand.
‘You deserve the best, cara mia, as does this cheese!.’ He gestures across the table and you survey all the options before you, savouring another sip of the wine. In the middle he has laid out a selection of crackers, water, butter and grain in a variety of different shapes. There was crumbling gorgonzola drizzled with honey to calm the bite of the blue veins and topped with quartered grapes and shelled pistachios. Slices of nutty pecorino sit between folded slices of ham generously filled with halved figs and walnuts. Cubes of provolone mixed with slices of olive oil, cured sopressata and green olives and taleggio and apple slices wrapped in salty prosciutto. Finally a bowl of whipped mascarpone, dark red cherry and balsamic dressing pooling between the peaks and whole cherries and pecans sinking into the soft cheese. 
He pulls out your chair for you, getting you comfortably seated then he goes to take off the apron before joining you at the table waiting as you take in the whole spread. It is strange being on the receiving end of such a gesture. You can’t remember the last time someone had prepared an extravagant meal for you like this, even if he had only sliced and arranged the food, it was clear how much effort he has put in to impress you.
He lets you start helping yourself to the plate closest to you when you struggle to decide where to begin with so many enticing options. The two of you are quiet for a time only pausing to express your pleasure with the flavours to each other. After trying at least two helpings of each cheese you sit back with your wine before your stomach begins protesting after your second round of overindulging for the day.
‘Thank you for doing this Terzo,’ you say as you watch him assemble another mouthful. ‘I’m not sure I remember the last time someone did this for me.’ He pauses before taking a bite, looking at you in surprise.
‘Is that so?’ He looks thoughtful as he finishes off his mouthful, getting every trace from his fingers. ‘You are very welcome, cara mia. In fact I enjoyed doing this more than I thought.’ 
‘Am I out of a job now?’ You joke just to watch his eyes widen in panic.
‘Hold on no no!’ He shakes his head emphatically. ‘I did not mean that at all. I will always prefer your incredible cooking.’ 
‘I suppose I will stick around then,’ you reassure him.
‘Thank Satan as much as this was fun. I could not imagine doing it everyday, multiple times.’ He looks exhausted just thinking about it. ‘You are a superwoman, mia cuocoina.’ 
‘I’m not, I just enjoy it,’ you explain. You always had since you were young and had followed your mother around the kitchen.
 ‘Why do you think you were so drawn to cooking?’ He asks. It wasn’t something you had thought much about before. It had just been a fact of your life. 
‘Well I like food obviously,’ you say with a laugh but you pause as you think of what it is you enjoy most about it. ‘I think it's just such a big part of our lives, we have to eat to survive so why not make that as enjoyable as we can?’ Of course it is your job and has been for the longest time but there is a more personal element to it, especially when it comes to people you care about. ‘And you know if you can cook you can make your friend a delicious soup when they are ill, you can make their favourite pasta dish after they just got dumped or you can bewitch a man by making his stomach fall for you first,’ you finish with a wink.
‘Mmmm I see,’ he says sipping his wine, his eyes going heavy lidded as he regards you. ‘So this was your plan was it?’ His voice goes deep and teasing and you shift in your seat. 
‘No, just a happy accident.’ You lean towards him without even noticing, so easily drawn into his orbit. ‘I think my food was just too good for you to resist.’ He nods in agreement, conceding to your point but this conversation is far from its end.
‘And what about you?’ He holds your gaze, keeping you attentive to his every word. 
‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head not quite understanding his question.
‘What made you unable to resist your Papa?’ You swallow thickly. There are so many reasons you wouldn’t even know where to start.
‘You don’t need me to tell you how irresistible you are.’ you say instead. You aren’t against stroking his ego usually but you know he is well aware of his affect on people and you in particular. 
‘I have my own charms. I am in no doubt about that.’ He says confidently and you know it is true. ‘You though? I think it is a little different than any I have seduced before.’
‘Oh?’ You have an inkling where he is going with this. You had your suspicions that there were a lot more feelings involved then either of you were used to in your past relationships but this didn’t feel like the build up to a heartfelt confession. He was looking at you as if he had been leading you to a trap and you had just fallen in. 
‘You like feeding me.’ he states, matter of fact, placing his wine glass down on the table.
‘Yes we have discussed that.’ You are sure the two of you had discussed how you enjoyed taking care of him even as early as your first dinner together.  
‘No we haven’t. Feed me.’ His voice is hard but not cold as he orders you but you hesitate.
‘What?’ You think back trying to clear your confusion and you remember the lunch or more specifically just before when you had been reassuring him in his bedroom. You had known then that he wouldn’t drop that forever but it still didn’t make you any more prepared. 
‘I am not yet satisfied. Feed me.’ You swallow again, unable to control your body's reaction to his strict demands. You want to obey him, to feed him but again you hesitate. 
‘Terzo …’ He gives you a stern look cutting you off before you can continue. ‘Papa?’ It comes out as a question but it seems obvious what he wants. He rewards you with a smirk. 
‘I want some more gorgonzola, si,’ He encourages as you take a water cracker and begin to load it with cheese. ‘Plenty of honey too per favore then be a brava cuocoina and feed it to me. Then I will explain.’ You offer him the cracker and he tuts at you shaking his head.
‘Uh uh,’ he sighs. ‘Do it properly.’ He pushes the plates to the side and pats the table in front of him. You stand uncertainly but he pats the table again until you sit before him and offer him the cracker a second time. He scoots his chair forward forcing you to spread your legs to accommodate him but now he is in the perfect position for you to place the food in his waiting mouth. He chews slowly, moaning low as the flavours combine and harmonise on his tongue. 
‘Mia cuocoina, I think the taleggio now, no?’ You take his suggestion, the rolls of prosciutto and apple are much easier to feed him. He watches you for a moment before continuing. ‘There were clues you see but I did not notice at first. Now though, now your Papa understands.’ You offer him the next bite but his warm hand closes around your wrist holding you in place. 
‘You kiss me differently, did you know this? After we have eaten, you like me tasting of food you made me I think.’ You feel like you can’t breathe as he begins listing all the things he has noticed. ‘And my clothes, you look at me differently too, when things get a little tighter, tighter than they used to be. You like seeing how I have changed with every meal you have fed me I think.’ You can’t deny it because what he says is true. A part of you had hoped he might not have noticed everything but with every word that hope gets smaller and smaller. 
‘And now here. Your heart is racing and yet all I have done is eat a little from your own hands.’ He pauses to take a bite, his teeth sinking into the soft cheese and crisp apple and just grazing the tip of your fingers. ‘You enjoy feeding me, more than you realise I think.’ 
‘Papa I …’ You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look angry or upset but you feel the urge to apologise even as words fail you. He swallows the last bite freeing your wrist.
‘Shhh it is ok mia cuocoina.’ His hands trail down to your ankles tracing miscellaneous shapes into your skin. ‘Cherries now per favore. The balsamic cherries with the mascarpone. His fingers creep up your calves ghosting the shape of you before hooking behind your knees. He pulls you forward until you are sitting at the edge of the table. You lean across him, choosing a butter cracker, the thicker texture better to support the soft cheese. 
‘I am craving something sweeter,’ he explains. You bring it to his lips, the cherry juice starting to drip down your fingers and he catches it with his tongue leaving a sticky trail behind it before closing his lips over the mouthful. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyelids droop seductively as he sucks the last traces of juice and cheese from your fingers. 
‘That didn’t quite hit the spot,’ he says, hands already sliding your skirt up your thighs until he can clearly see your underwear and the wet patch there is little point trying to hide. ‘Ah so I was right. You do enjoy hand feeding your Papa.’ He spreads your legs even further so he can lean close enough that you feel his steady breathing against you. ‘After all that fuss.’ He grazes his teeth over your clit, the material of your underwear protecting you but the threat still makes your thighs shake. When he does bite down it’s only on the hem of your underwear as he pulls them to the side leaving you bare to him for the first time.
He just looks at first holding you in suspense but in a split second his tongue is all over you yet somehow still not hitting any places you wanted him, needed him. Around and around he swirls his tongue over your folds, then the most gentle suction. Little sounds of enjoyment he seems unaware of that vibrate through you as he tastes you thoroughly. But his teasing as you fed him, his sucking and nipping at your fingers had already got you ready for so much more. Giving in you lace your fingers through his hair to guide him to exactly where you want his attention most but he resists all your attempts, making the frustration inside you build and build. You try another tactic grinding your hips against his face but he pulls away pressing your hips down onto the table and stopping any further movement and forcing a whine from deep in your chest.
‘Cuocoina, please. I am just trying to properly enjoy my meal.’ He pauses to lick a long stripe, tongue flat and broad to give you as much friction as possible. You can’t breathe, not for a moment, the sudden rush of pleasure the only thing your mind can comprehend but almost as soon as it starts it ends the only thing you can feel are the puffs of his warm breath.
‘But perhaps you would prefer to feed me this too?’ He positions himself that he is a hair's breadth away from you before his vice-like grip on your hips loosens. ‘Feed me’ he growls and you have to obey.
You grind your hips against him over and over, his tongue finding your entrance making your thighs shake as you fight to get him even deeper. Your foot loses purchase where it had settled on the arm of his chair and you scream as your clit catches the tip of his nose. One of his hands finds its way to your thigh helping to steady you but the other creeps up your body underneath your dress. He cups your breast over bra, his maddening fingers finding your already hard nipple through the light material pinching and twisting until you can't decide if you want to arch into his teasing hand or push back against his face. 
‘Papa! Terzooo,’ you moan his name in frustration, struggling as your pleasure builds to take what you need from him but he finally takes pity on you, hooking both your legs over his shoulders and lifting your hips clean off the table.
‘Fuck mia cuocoina,’ he growls against your core. He sucks your clit long and hard until you scream your toes curling against his back. ‘Sei la cosa migliore che abbia mai assaggiato, cazzo.’ You barely register his switch to Italian, too busy chanting his name in your pleasure fuelled delirium.
You are so close to the edge when his lips close over you sucking and sucking while his tongue swipes over your clit over and over again. You can feel it building, a charge shooting through your nerves from the soles of your feet to the palms of your hand and you continue babbling his name, repeating until it is almost meaningless. He pinches your nipple, hard, and you arch up from the table with a gasp just as he slides a finger inside you curling it perfectly to press against your g spot. 
Every bit of air is forced from your lungs as your orgasm overtakes you. Your ears begin to ring as the force of it pulses through your body and what feels like every muscle contracting and releasing as you gasp for air. Your hands are still gripping at his hair keeping him in place not that it is needed as he laps at you greedily, catching every last drop of your orgasm. 
‘Making sure you are well fed?’ You giggle deliriously, still feeling somewhat detached from reality. You release your death grip on his hair and he sets your hips back down on the table helping you ease the vice-like grip of your thighs around him. His face is wet with your slick but it only emphasises his flushed cheeks. He grins at you in satisfaction, his eyes sparkling as he takes in the state he has made of you.
He pulls you back upright by your hands after straightening your underwear and your dress but this time no one could mistake the treatment you had just received. Your balance has not yet returned and so helps you into his lap where you can lean against his warm body. As you get settled you can feel his hardness trapped beneath you but as you reach for him cupping him through his trousers, he catches your wrist gently and instead wraps your arms around his neck. He distracts you by stealing kisses and you discover you almost enjoy the taste of you on his lips as much as you enjoy the taste of the food you make him.   
He slows your frantic kisses down, only offering you slow pecks to help you actually catch your breath. He rubs your back soothingly over your dress and encourages you to rest against him but you still end up clinging to his shoulders to help keep you upright as the haze of your pleasure recedes leaving you exhausted. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand settling at the back of your neck.
‘Mmm, now I am satisfied,’ he whispers against your lips before distracting you again with his captivating kisses. 
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Imagine helping Crocodile discover a new way to use his devil fruit, part 2
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I've decided that I'm going to do a fic for this, instead of an imagine. I don't know about this one, but I'm posting it anyway.
Also, this an afab reader fic, sorry.
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It was late when you left Buggy's party to head home. So late, in fact, that the city had turned off most of the streetlamps. With only every third lamp lit on the main streets, one of Crocodile's brilliant budget cuts left you blindly scurrying between lamps to stay where you could see, cursing as you went. When you finally reached your street you encountered an expanse of broken streetlights leaving you with little choice, but to fumble blindly down the road, with only starlight to guide you. You paused, to give your eyes a moment to adjust and to put on your shoes, before heading off into the darkness.
Only a few steps in, you heard what sounded like sand moving. Without thinking, you called out, "hello?" Your jaw snapped shut when you realized you had just given away your position.
A deep chuckle broke the tense air, it was familiar, "It's quite late for little deers to be out, all by themselves." Suddenly, a bright ember lit up in your periphery, giving you a glance at the man in the dark. A dark cigar with a predatory grin at the other end of the ember, there was no mistaking it.
Crocodile murmured, "I've been looking for you all night."
"Why me?" You asked, taking a step back, even though you knew there was no escaping from him if he really wanted you
"I want to know what else that fucked up little head of yours can come up with." He purred. You flinch as his hand engulfed your neck. The feeling of his sand skittering along your skin made you instinctively go up on your tippy-toes to get away. Sensing your discomfort, his thumb gently caresses your cheek to soothe you. "Easy there, I'm not going to hurt you, yet." Crocodile takes a slow drag off his cigar, the ember glittering in his eyes. He was clearly enjoying the power trip he was getting off on your fear.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and started to ramble off anything you could use sand for. "Water filtration."
"Water is a no-go."
"You could use the technique I previously suggested to make glass. It would be useful for barriers against biochemical attacks, or for stopping up hinges. "
Crocodile hummed, "That would be useful, I'll have to try that later... But ultimately not the thing I'm looking for. "
"What sort of things are you implying?"
"Telling you would deprive me of the pleasure of watching you squirm, so keep trying." He said, tightening his hand around your neck, just enough to make your head spin.
You gasped, "Sand has silica in it, which is bad to breathe in. Uh... I can be used for skin!"
His grip loosened, as he echoed, "for skin?"
"It's used as an exfoliant." You stammered, trying to remain balanced.
"I recall having skinned my knee falling on the beach before I ate my devil fruit." He grumbled.
"You're supposed to add it to lotion or oil. "
"I can use lotion and oil," he chuckled, "I finally have the inspiration I needed. Thank you, little deer, why don't we go try it out." Crocodile released your neck, slid his arm around your shoulders, and guided you down the street.
"What are you doing." You asked, "Where are you taking me?"
The large man pulled you into his side, bemused by your size difference, as he asked, "did I misinterpret the way you look at me when you think I can see you?"
Your eyes flicked up to his, suddenly feeling very embarrassed because you've always taken every opportunity to ogle him in that slutty lil waistcoat of his.
He gave you a feline grin and mused, "I have not misinterpreted anything, have it. I know a hungry look when I see one. So where I'm taking you is to feast at my residence."
Sir Crocodile wasted no time bringing you to his estate, you crossed the threshold, and his grip on you slid from your shoulder to your waist. His hand groped the fat of your hip through the thin material of your shirt, as he led you to his room.
As soon as his bedroom door shut behind him, he removed his coat and gently pushed you face down on the large, plush sheets of his bed. He ordered you not to move a muscle, and you waited patiently, happily taking in the heavy scent of his sheets. You remained there for two minutes, listening to him remove his coat and shoes, he moved to another room for a minute, before coming back and setting several bottles and a large box on the nightstand.
"Up, sit up." He asserted, sliding onto the bed behind you. When you sat up on your knees, one of his large hands pulled you back into his lap. With another hoist and a gasp from you, he had you perched upon the rather prominent bulge in his pants. He had evidently removed his belt and vest well, he sat there in only a crisp button-up shirt and starched slacks.
"Now, why don't we get started with the foreplay?" He chuckled, swapping out his hook for some sort of mobility attachment that allowed him to unbutton his shirt. You leaned against his chest, and looked up at him. The black haired man grinned at the submissive look on your face, and used his now free hand to remove his hook. You watched as his nub and his hand turned into lumps of sand.
"I think the lotion would work quite nicely, don't you?" Crocodile rumbled, depositing several pumps of lotion onto the sand and rubbing them together until it was mixed evenly. The anticipation had caused an ache to grow between your legs. An ache that only grew larger when he shoved his hands under your shirt. You gasped when his fingers pushed up your breasts. The sand was cool at first, but it warmed up the rotation picked up speed.
You reached back and locked hands around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the strands of hair there, as you arched into his touch. Crocodile let you bask in his touch for only a brief moment, before nudging your head in his direction and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His scent, taste, and touch filled your senses. He smelled like whiskey, smoke, honey, and a natural musk, which left you dizzy. A high-pitched sigh left you, reveling in the moment, completely missing that the noise that had left you a moment ago had made the man under you feel absolutely feral. He let you distract yourself by grinding down on him, and nipping at his lips and tongue, while he gathered more sand. He opened the lotion bottle and mixed its contents with his sand before forming several new arms.
Three large hands pried apart your legs, as two hands of swirling sand massaged the meat of your thighs and calves. Two hands gripped your hips, rocking your clothes slit over his bulge, as two more hands groped at your chest. You cried out, only for Crocodile to use a column of sand to pull you back into a kiss. While his hand, of flesh and bone, made its way between your legs.
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Text
Online matchup 11
Summery: Jason said he was going to be out of town, but that doesn’t stop Red Hood from checking in once in a while. But there are more pressing matters Y/n is dealing with, and Y/n has live with what they learned and they’re not sure how to handle it.
Warning: fluff I think, swearing, reader is having a crisis anyways. So is Jason.
A/N: I’m trying to get my rhythm back after everything went to shit, so I am starting with a new chapter of this. Hope you like it, it’s the only thing I finished before everything happened with my mother-in-law. And don’t worry, I still plan on posting the other ficus I promised, I’m just trying not to overwhelm myself. Also, this was 100% inspired the new arc of Batman: Wayne Family Adventures on webtoon
Ao3
Master list
Taglist: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts
——————
March 14
Roy
So
How goes it with Jason?
Y/n
Why?
Why do you have the need to keep my number?
Roy
Because one day we will meet, and we will have to be friends
Y/n
Because of Jason?
Roy
Because of Jason
But this way, we can get ahead of the game
And I don’t have to pretend to like you for I will already like you when that day comes
Y/n
You’re so weird
Roy
Yeah but aren’t we all a little weird in our own way?
Y/n
I guess
Roy
So?
Answer my question
Y/n
So demanding
Just ask Jason
He is your friend
Roy
Yeah, but he doesn’t like talking about personal things while working
Y/n
So you’re going to get information from me?
What makes you think I’ll answer?
Roy
I could always ask Conner
Y/n
Why would he know about my relationship?
Roy
He’s dating your sister
And he is friends with with Tim
Y/n
Damn
You’re right
Roy
Always am
Y/n
Mm, I don’t think so
But things with Jason is good
We’ve aired out our worries and continue to see each other regularly
Roy
Good
Y/n
Why’d that feel threatening?
Y/n
Your friend Roy is something else
Jason
What?
When the fuck did you meet Roy?
Y/n
Um
Technically I haven’t physically met him
But Conner made a group chat the other week and he was in it?
And now he has taken to texting me
It’s wild
Jason
This was not how I wanted the two of you to meet
Y/n
It is what it is
My mom always said I needed more friends
Jason
I doubt this is how she wanted that to happen
Y/n
It is what it is
Don’t be too mad
Jason
I’m not
You guys were bound to meet eventually
Just not like this
Y/n
Yeah but that’s okay
I kind of like Roy
Though sometimes it feels like he’s threatening me when he talks
But other then that he’s okay
Jason
Nice to know that you have other options in the dating world if this doesn’t work out
Y/n
Okay I wouldn’t go that far
He’s nice and all
But I’m not the type of person to go after my ex’s best friend
Jason
I’m just saying
Y/n
So am I
Jason
I mean, there’s always Red Hood you could go after
Y/n
I have many regrets
And telling you my crush on him is the biggest one
Jason
I think it’s cute
Y/n
I think it’s unattainable
Jason
Mm
Maybe, maybe not
Y/n
What’s that suppose to mean?
Jason
Nothing you need to worry about
Y/n
Okay, well now I’m worried
Jason
Mm, well that’s to bad
On an unrelated note,
I might be a little distant for a bit
Got stuff I need to work on
So our dinner date has to be on pause till I get back.
Y/n
We had a dinner date?
Jason
I love how that’s your takeaway from that
Y/n
Well I mean
I feel like that’s something I would remember
Jason
...
I didn’t ask you, did I?
Y/n
That seems to be the case
Jason
Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you when I get back
Y/n
What?
Booo
**
There’s a thump outside your window that has you looking up from your book. You freeze, waiting for something to happen. When nothing happens, you go back to your book.
Before you can focus on the words, you hear something from beyond your window. Head snapping to it, you narrow your eyes as if you could see through it.
When the sounds kept coming, so did your curiosity. Sighing, you set the book down and pushed your blankets as you got off the bed to investigate.
Drawing the curtains open, you come face to face with someone you thought you'd never see again. You blinked a few times to see if you were seeing things. But you weren't and it was Red Hood that sat on your fire escape.
Opening your window, you leaned out to see what he was doing better. He wasn't injured but he was heaving. Like he was running from something.
"Come here often?" you asked once your assessment was done. You watched in amusement as he jumped slightly, hand hovering over his holster as he turned around
“Why are you awake so late at night?" he asked instead. You shrugged and rested your chin on your hand.
"Wasn't tired," you answered, eyes straying down to the streets below when you heard shouts. "So, I thought you usually fight thugs. You don't seem to be the hiding type."
Red Hood shrugged and relaxed, leaning back on the wall. "Don't really feel like fighting tonight. Figured Batman can have this one.”
"I thought you hated him," you said, surprised.
"Love hate relationship I guess."
Silence fell as you watched the Gotham night bustle with life, enjoying the sounds. "You hungry or something?" you asked, and could see the hesitation when he realized that he'd have to remove the helmet. "I can turn my back if you’re more comfortable with that," you suggested. At his nod, you stood and beelined to the kitchen. Once the food was plated and warmed, you grabbed a water bottle and walked back.
"It isn't much, but at least it's something,” you said as you handed the food over. He granted and you turned around. Sitting on the floor back leaning against the window. You heard the click and hiss coming from behind. Though you were curious to see what his face looked like, you promised not to peak.
"So, do you feed everyone who stops on your fire escape or am I just special?" he asked around a mouthful of food. Your checks warmed and was very glad that he couldn't see.
"Only the ones I like,” you teased.
"That implies you have visitors," he pointed out.
"And if I do?”
"Then you should be worried." You snorted, hugging your knees to your chest.
"I'm on the sixth floor. I don't know who would come to my window.”
“Didn't stop me.”
"Guess you’re just special."
"So, should I be worried once your boyfriend gets home?" Red Hood asked when there was a lull in the conversation. You hummed and rested your chin on your knees
"I don't think so,” you answered, "I live alone."
"So no boyfriend? Or girlfriend?"
"No girlfriend," you confirmed, "I'm not sure if he's my boyfriend.”
Jason's heart leapt in his chest, and he rubbed his chest with nerves. "Sounds complicated."
"Not complicated,” you hummed, "I mean, I would like to call him my boyfriend but we've been talking and we've been on a couple of dates. But we haven't talked about what we are. Which is fine, I don't need a label to tell me how I feel about him."
"How do you feel about him?" he asked when you trailed off.
"I really really like him. And I trust him a lot too, and I could see myself falling in love with him. I just need to trust myself, you know? I'm just afraid to fuck it up with him. Like, I have his heart in my hands and I'm afraid l'Il break it. His been through so much and I don't want to be added on to list of how I fucked it up."
Jason's heart went out to you, and could understand where you were coming from. He is on the same boat as you.
"Sounds like this is a conversation you need to have with him," he said, voice a little rough. He cleared his throat and you nodded. "Not with some vigilante." You let out a wet laugh, and wiped your eyes when you realized you were crying.
“Yeah, guess you're right," you said. "Sorry for putting that all on you. You might have some relationship problems of your own."
"I wouldn't say that," he muttered, and you could hear movement from behind you. Once you heard the familiar click, you moved to sit on your knees and turned around, leaning your forearms on the window sill. "Thanks for the food.”
"Wasn't much but thanks for listening to a random cizitians worries.”
“It's what we do," he said, getting a genuine laugh from you and Jason smiled.
One of his favourite sounds and he'll never get tired of it. He gave you a two finger salute and ran down the stairs.
You stood up and watched as he disappeared. You bit your lip to keep from smiling and leaned out the window to grab the dishes. He was an interesting person, you had to admit
And if you meet him again well you wouldn't be opposed to that.
And meet him you did.
Three days later, you're in your room finishing some homework when you hear a thud outside your window. Setting your books aside, you crawl off your bed and towards your window. You opened your window with a smile. “One would think you're here to- holy shit! Are you okay?" you exclaimed when you saw his bleeding arm.
Red Hood looked up and you could feel the scowl behind his helmet. "Are you ever sleeping?"
"Do you ever not get hurt while being a hero?" you shot back. He bristled and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t respond. “Are you okay though? That looks like it hurts.”
“Fine,” he grunted, “just a graze.”
“Just a graze,’ he says while bleeding,” you mocked, giving him a look. "You've been shot at, forgive me if I don't believe you.”
"Believe what you like. I don't care."
"Well someone's grumpy," you said and opened the way. “Come, let’s get that fixed before you bleed to death.”
“Are you always this sarcastic?" he asked, but didn't move. You stepped back and put your hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't bite," you answered, and quirked your lip. "Unless asked."
"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a laugh. Shaking his head, he ducked through the window with a groan. "You don't strike me as someone who invites people over,” he said, looking around the room as he followed you.
“I'm not, this is just repaying you for saving my life a couple of months ago." You gestured towards the chair as you went to the bathroom. "Have a seat. I'll be back.” After rummaging through your bathroom, you found the first aid kit and came back to find Red Hood sitting with his jacket off.
You pulled a chair closer to him, and set the kit down before opening it. "It’s going to sting a bit," you warned, and he only grunted. "Okay then," you said and started cleaning the bullet wound. "Good news, you don't need stitches."
"Bad news?" he asked and you startled, not expecting him to say anything.
"It might scar but I doubt it."
“What’s one more scar?” he questioned and you eyed him after you taped the gauze. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said, averting your gaze back to his arm. You rolled down his sleeve, only to give your hands something to do. “Hurt anywhere else?”
“Nah, that was the best of it,” he said and crossed his arms. “Are you a nurse or something?”
“Or something,” you answered. You’re unsure how you know, but you know that he’s giving you a flat look. “Engineer student,” you said with a little wave. “I happen to get injuries a lot, and instead of going to the doctors, I learned to treat myself properly. It’s come in handy a few times.”
“So you know how to do stitches?”
You shook your head and leaned back into the chair. “In theory, sure. But I’ve never had to do them. I’ve always gone to the doctors if I need them.”
“Guess I could be your practice dummy,” he mused and you leaned over slightly to poke his side.
“Don’t even think about it,” you said, poking him again. To which he slapped your hand away. “I’m not going to be responsible for scaring Red Hood even more.”
“I think if it came from you, I think I wouldn’t mind.”
Flushing, you turned away from him and sniffed. “Well regardless, this is a one time thing. Don’t expect it to happen again.”
Except it did.
Over the course of the week, Red Hood would come by unexpectedly. Whether to hide out from his partners, or in need of a nurse that he felt safe coming to you or simply to talk to someone.
And each night you sat in your room, waiting. It was never the same time but always early enough that you wouldn’t be going to sleep late. Despite your messed up sleep schedule, Red Hood was determined to fix it.
And every night, your feelings grew a little more. But you never acted on them, your heart belonged to Jason, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.
March 22
Y/n (10:20 am)
So you know that crush I have on red hood?
Ellie
The one that you squashed after falling for Jason?
Yes I remember
Y/n
It came back full force
I think I’m in love
Ellie
Y/n I swear
It’ll go away eventually
And how?
You’ve never met him
Y/n
I’ve met him twice
Ellie
The only time you’ll meet a hero or whatever is if one you’re a criminal or two you need help
And I doubt it’s the first one
Y/n
Hey!
I can be a criminal if I wanted too
Ellie
Yeah but your too nice and in love to be one
Y/n
Touché
Anyways, I’ve meet him and the second time we’ve talked
He’s nice
Ellie
You can not fall for people who are nice y/n
That’s how you get hurt
Y/n
What about Jason?
Ellie
I think he’s different
The both of you have been hurt too many times and you both know that
So you’re taking the time to get to know each othere
Y/n
When’d you get so wise?
Ellie
Someone had to when you moved out
Y/n
Listen here you little shit
Ellie
I’m listening
Y/n
Asshole
Ellie
You know what would be funny?
If Jason turned out to be Red Hood
Ha! You fell for the same dude twice
Y/n
Why would you say that?
ELLIE
WHY
WHY
WOULD
YOU
SAY
THAT
Ellie
It’s a JOKE
Y/n
IT'S NOT A VERY FUNNY ONE
IT'S LIKE SAYING CONNER IS SUPERBOY
Conner (1:30 pm)
WHY WOULD YOU TELL ELLIE IM SUPERBOY
Y/n
It was a JOKE
It’s not like you actually are
Conner
Y/n
ARE YOU ACTUALLY
Conner
NO
Y/n
Holy shit
It was suppose to be a joke
Conner
NOT A REALLY FUNNY ONE
Y/N
You don’t say
Conner
Why’d you even say it anyways?
Y/n
She started it
Telling me that Jason could be red hood
And that I fell for him twice
Which is insane
Conner
Absolutely insane
Doesn’t have a reason to be him anyways
I mean RH is mean and not really a hero, you know?
Who shoots at people and almost kills them?
That's not Jason at all
Jason’s sweet and caring and the total opposite of RH
Y/n
I’m telling Jason you think he’s sweet and caring
Conner
I can see why he likes you
You’re both the same
Y/n
Sweet and caring?
Conner
Go away
Y/n
Nah
Your dating my sister
Your stuck with me forever
Conner
Or until we break up
Y/n
True
But then you'll die :)
Conner
somehow, that smiley face makes it worst
Y/n
:)
You hated your sister. Like sure, you love her and any given time you wouldn't mind talking to her. But at this moment while you were pacing your room. You really hated your sister.
You know what would be funny? . If Jason turned out to be Red Hood. Ha! You fell for the same dude twice.
You couldn't stop thinking about her words, and your curiosity ran too deep for you to leave it alone. You opened your laptop ready to go snooping on Batman's computer but you stopped yourself and started pacing.
"If Jason wanted me to know, he’d tell me, right?" you asked out loud. "But then again, he wouldn't tell me because he isn't Red Hood." Turning, you walked back, hands moving in front of you.
"But then again, if he was him then he had good reasons for not telling me." Turn, walk. "But if it is him, does that mean the whole family's a hero family?" you questioned and groaned. "Oh! That would make sense. All those nights helping his brothers with something.”
Turn, walk. “It would be so embarrassing if he was. All the things I said to Red Hood about Jason. And vide versa,” you said in realization. You stopped walking and covered your face with your hands. “The conversation I should have had with Jason instead of Red Hood. Plus I told him I had a crush on Red Hood! Oh no!
“And if he is actually Red Hood, it would be an invasion of privacy if I look into it.”
You stared at your laptop as you chewed your lip in thought. "Fuck it," you said, and dived onto the bed. Moving your laptop to your lap, you began typing away praying that Batman doesn't notice your presence.
Once entering the back door you created, you began your search. It didn't take long to find what you were looking for and you spent the next twenty minutes reading everything Batman had on Red Hood
You closed your computer and fell back onto your bed, covered your face with your hands in defeat. Why? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? Why did you have to let your curiosity run wild? And why did you have to listen to your sister? Questions you didn't know the answers to, and none were important. There was only one that needed an answer.
What are you going to do now that you know the truth?
You couldn't talk to anyone about it, and the one person you could, doesn’t know that you know.
Sitting back down, you opened your laptop with the intention of getting rid of the backdoor to Batman's computer. Just as you were deleting it, something caught your attention.
Still not knowing better, you followed it and covered your mouth in shock.
The Joker was out, and he was on the hunt.
Y/n (2:23 am)
I hope your doing okay
56 notes · View notes
hatsukeii · 1 day
Note
hiii mootie congrats on the 900!!!
would love to play the guitar ^^,,, i'm thinking a first aid ear mic and a wound-kiss guitar pic.
A little birdie's told me that Denji's my biggest fan <3 (Don't tell the birdie I'm his biggest fan though bc it's a snitch)
("Did it take u this long to come up with something" Shhh shh shhhh... let's focus on u reaching 900 followers 😋🫶🏽 again CONGRATS !!!! u deserve them all mootie ur writing is so yummy ily and your creations)
oooo sick!! the band you've joined is...
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kiss it right! / denji x reader
genre(s): fluff + crack!! reader is nonchalant + tired of his bs, denji not so much (he's so annoying your honour i love him i fear...) injury, kiss it better fic! giggles! blushing! kicking my feet like a teenage girl!!
warning(s): injury so blood and pain ig, heavy on the needles because reader is giving him sutures, also ik denji is a bit of a pussy which is a bit ooc but he's supposed to be super weakened after a fight so it makes a little more sense that he's really sensitive to pain here
wc: ~1.1k
your first gig is in... an ambulance?!
setlist:
🎵 someday, the strokes
🎵 calling after me, wallows
🎵 kiss her you fool, kids that fly
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"Quit squirming so much, I'm not done yet!"
Denji hates stitches. You know it by the way he wriggles and tenses up with every contact the needle makes with his skin, and how he just refuses to stay still the second he sees the thread of dread. Frustrated, you smack the front of Denji's knee, a signal for him to stay still, but you hit a nerve and his leg jerks up reflexively instead, his shoe coming dangerously close to your chin. You drop the needle and thread in your hand at his sudden movement, and a groan sounds from your throat.
"Shit. Didn’t mean to do that, sorry Denji."
Denji sulks, bottom lip jutting out in an annoyed pout. Everything rattles and shakes as the ambulance rolls past a speed bump, and he almost wishes he was the one unconscious on the stretch instead of Aki. He watches you yank at the end of a spool of thread, and loop it through the head of a new needle. Your tongue pokes out from your pursed lips, holding the needle impossibly close to your face as your pinched fingers jab and poke at it. Your brows furrow in concentration, leading the thread through and tying it in place. When you reach over to grab another alcohol swab, Denji shrugs inwards again, and you take notice of his shift in posture when you turn back to see his legs crossed.
"Denji..."
"Sorry, you know I hate needles." The sole of his sooty sneaker lies on the bloody gash on his shin, and you wipe a film of sweat off your forehead with the back of your forearm.
"You'll give yourself sepsis like that."
"I dunno what that is." He mumbles, head hanging low to watch blood pool out from the torn flesh of his leg. Sepsis. That sounds bad, but not as bad as watching a needle sink into his skin, and come out on the other side.
"C'mon, you trust me, right? I make it better, every time." Denji knows you're right, so he nods, hugging his legs against his chest instead.
"Put the bad leg back down, and let me fix you up, okay?"
The ambulance makes another jolt when he lowers his leg over the edge of the seat. Cold, stinging cotton wipes at the blood that has dried around the gash, and Denji has to grip the seat until his knuckles go white to stop himself from whining. When he sees the needle reappear in your hands, he keeps reminding himself that this could, very well, all be worth the pain in the end. If he's lucky.
You slather numbing cream on the swollen flesh around his gash, before pulling the thread taut in preparation, and aligning the tip of the needle with the bottom of the wound.
"I'm trying to set a personal record, so stay still."
"What's your current record?"
"Minute and a half." You don't look up from the gash when you respond to him, not even as Denji whistles, impressed. You breathe in, eyes darting to the digital clock on the dashboard of the ambulance, and slide the needle through one side of the gash. Denji's leg tenses in his efforts to stay impossibly still, even as the thread runs back and forth through his skin over, and over, and over again. Your eyes squint, face inching closer to his bare shin as you pull the thread tight, and the split flesh comes together with ease. You look at the digital clock again, fingers twisting and tugging quickly to tie off the suture.
"Close, minute and thirty-three. Maybe next time."
When you chuck the needle out into a medical wastebin and look up, Denji is staring down at you, a grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes as you rip the latex gloves off your clammy hands, sighing out in exasperation. He wiggles his eyebrows, pointing at the stitches on his shin.
"Don't even try."
"But I swear it works!" Denji beams like a puppy seeing its owner for the first time in years. You stand and turn away, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting it fall freely. It covers your red ears, and that's good enough.
"I'm not giving a fresh suture a kiss, Denji."
"You say that every time! I'm sure you've seen worse, right?"
He's right, you have seen worse, but that is the extent of it. Kissing a fresh wound is, quite literally, the textbook definition of immature. And unhygienic. You turn back to look at Denji, who is still pointing at his shin expectantly, and is still pleading with that stupid look on his face. He looks a little too excited for somebody who's just had his leg stitched back together.
"I guess you were good enough today."
Kneeling down again, you meet the sutures on his leg, dried blood gathering around the surface of the thread. You sigh, reaching behind for another alcohol swab, and wipe over the wound once, twice, then a third time. Denji kicks his feet merrily, but stops when his shoe almost hits you in the nose, and you send a piercing glare towards him. Holding his calf with both hands, you bring his shin towards your face, the warm breaths from your nose fanning over his skin.
When you finally, for the first time, press a kiss into Denji's wound, he giggles like a schoolgirl, and you feel a wave of heat rush from your ears to your cheeks.
"If I see you pick the sutures out again like last time, you're never getting another one, you hear me?" You pull the mask that has been sitting on your chin up to your nose, pinching it tight against your nose bridge. The mask conceals half of your face, and Denji sniffs in annoyance when he loses sight of your lips. What neither of you notice is the elastic of the mask pushing your hair behind your ears, and exposing the hot pink tips of them.
"It'll heal twice as quickly now, thanks to that."
"That's not how it works, but sure. Whatever keeps you happy, Denji."
The ambulance comes to a sudden stop, and everything inside jolts forward. You sling Denji's arm around your shoulder, holding him up as he limps off the vehicle and towards the hospital entrance. The wound barely feels like anything. In fact, he could probably walk like normal.
Someday, maybe Denji won't have to ask you to kiss his wounds better. Someday, Denji might even get a kiss without having to get hurt. But for now, Denji thinks that he'll keep pretending that the stitches hurt, so long as it gets you to kiss him.
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author's note:
I am acc so ASS at writing full fluff scenarios bc tell me why this was only 1.1k words... I HOPE YOU LIKED IT THO POOKIE!!! i made sure to make denji extra whiny and extra annoying just for u <3 i love him your honour even though he's a little bitch sometimes he's my baby
anyways tags!!
@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @catsoupki @akaakeis @anqelfries @wishi-selfships @fiannee @bailey-reeds @kuroppiii @wyrcan @hiraethwa @stars-tonight
anyways love u guys bye bye see u soon…
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airas-story · 2 days
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Moral of the Story
“Do you even realize what you just told me?” Stephen asked, sounding perturbed.
Tony glanced to the side to look at him. He’d been focusing on the bookshelves so he wouldn’t see the disgust he knew he’d find on Stephen’s face. “What are you talking about?” Tony asked; it was not the reaction he’d expected after telling the story of his 40th birthday party, every humiliating moment of it. The disgust, for one, wasn’t there. Stephen had a strange—ha—look on his face, as though he was in the process of rethinking something he’d thought he’d known.
“You’re telling me your best friend stole your suit, beat you into the ground while he thought you were drunk, then flew off and took the suit you’d done everything to keep out of the hands of other people and gave it to the government, and not just the government, but your competitor.”
Tony made a face, because competitor, that was being a little generous. “Hammer is not—“
Stephen held out a hand to stop him, apparently not about to let himself be distracted. “He was supposed to be your best friend. And he… I don’t care how you were acting, Rhodes shouldn’t have beat you into the ground and then stolen from you, especially in a way that deliberately and explicitly betrayed your very well-publicized view of putting the suit in the hands of the government.” Stephen shook his head. “People could have died because of that, and it’d be your weapons, once again. That would have destroyed you, Tony. I’m trying to understand how you could possibly be okay with this.”
He examined Tony, eyes piercing as though searching for answers in Tony’s soul.
Tony shifted uncomfortably, not sure he wanted Stephen to find whatever he was looking for. He tried to deflect. “Whoa, calm down. You’re focusing on the wrong things.” Because there were some things he preferred not to think about. “I was being an irresponsible ass, dangerously so. And I intended for him to take it,” Tony added. He’d wanted part of Iron Man to live on to protect the world after he died, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Rhodey. “I trusted he wouldn’t misuse it. So he wasn’t really stealing it.”
It didn’t distract Stephen in quite the way he’d hoped. “Did he know that?” Stephen asked, tone sharp and eyes blazing, clearly getting riled up. “Did Colonel Rhodes know that he was ‘not stealing’ it?”
Tony stared at him, utterly baffled. “Stephen, I was being an irresponsible ass.”
“And that gives him the right to steal?” Stephen demanded. “To beat you into the ground, to tell you, the creator of the suit, that you don’t deserve it.”
Tony flinched, because even now, that one hurt. “Well… yeah?”
Stephen just stared at him for a long moment, but then nodded. “Right. There are so many issues here, I don’t even know where to start. Did he… I don’t know. Apologize?”
The words had been said, but Tony instinctively knew that that wasn’t what Stephen really meant. They’d kind of just moved past it and pretended that the situation had never happened. Something told him that Stephen really wouldn’t like that answer.
Stephen ran a hand over his face, clearly seeing the answer on his face. “You really don’t see a problem with anything that happened then, do you?” Pain, maybe even grief, twisted his tone.
“I do,” Tony protested; that had been the point of the whole story. “I know I handled things in the worst possible way.” And even that was downplaying how badly he’d acted.
“Undoubtedly,” Stephen agreed. “You should have been honest about the fact that you were dying. Isolating yourself the way you did was perhaps nobly meant, but foolish.” The look on Stephen’s face made it clear he thought it was far more foolish than noble. “And you absolutely shouldn’t have been drunk in a weaponized suit.” Stephen sent him a sharp look at that. Tony relaxed a little, because this was the sort of reaction he’d been expecting. “But that doesn’t make theft, escalation, and physical intimidation the right answer in handling the situation.”
“Rhodey was doing what he needed to do.”
Stephen shook his head, expression twisted in clear displeasure still as he looked away. “Perhaps.” His disagreement rang loud and clear.
Tony took a moment to just look at him. Stephen had a furrow in his brow and was glaring down at the book on the table.
“I get the feeling that I shouldn’t have told you this story. You completely missed the moral of the story. And normally you’re so good at that,” Tony said dryly, trying to lighten things, a little. “You’re supposed to be taking from it that I’m reckless, idiotic, and untrustworthy.”
The ferocity in Stephen’s gaze took Tony aback. “I already knew you were reckless. I’m not surprised that you’re occasionally an idiot. And trying to convince me that you’re untrustworthy is a long lost cause.” He met Tony’s gaze, an untold depth of emotions in his eyes that caught Tony’s breath for a moment; something warm settled in his chest.
He shelved it for a moment, because Stephen had completely missed the moral of the story, but he hadn’t gotten nothing from it. He’d just gotten the wrong thing, from it. Tony sighed, because he just knew this would turn messy if he didn’t stop it in its tracks. “Don’t be mad at Rhodey.”
“Too late,” Stephen told him, tone unshakeable. “You refuse to be mad at anything, so I’m going to do it for you.”
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buddiebeginz · 3 days
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Fandom I'm begging you all to wait and see how the season plays out. Everything right now seems to be pointing towards Buddie and sure I could be wrong but I also think it would be the shows downfall if they didn't make Buddie happen this season and I think Tim and abc know that.
This isn't just about catering to fandom whims this is that since right before s7 they've done so much to put focus on Buddie way more than with any season before. Deliberate choices have been made that if they're not leading to Buddie can't not be seen as queerbaiting. And yes a show with queer characters can still queerbait if they're using a popular queer ship to garner attention and views. Though I don't think that's what's happening here.
The only reason I think more didn't happen with Buddie last season is because the season was short and they got renewed for s8 early. You can tell if you watch from eps 1-6 that they were leading somewhere with Buddie (they had them singing a karaoke love song ffs) but changed gears after getting renewed for s8. At the same time Tim still didn't put more development or focus on b/t so it's not that Buddie happening was shelved (as in it's never happening) it was just paused.
Also I see people spiraling about that pic Ryan posted assuming because he's in a robe and because he put "Don Diaz" on it that it's a reference to Don Juan and this means Eddie is going to be hooking up with a bunch of women. I just don't see that happening. Ryan could have easily just been making a joke or trying to mess with fandom or it could mean nothing. It could be a Godfather reference. Or it could be something like Eddie tries to hook up with a random girl and he just can't do it and then that leads to him talking to the priest. Unfortunately we aren't going to know what that pic really means until the episode airs.
I know we've all been burned by the show (and other shows) before and I get being nervous about what could happen this season. But remember that Buck was supposed to come out in s4 (this has been confirmed by Oliver) and Eddie in s5 (this has been confirmed by the the insider) and presumably that's when Buddie would have happened. Buddie has been in the works for years. The main thing stopping it before was Fox and last season it was just too short to have Buck to come out, Eddie come out, and then Buddie to happen. 10 eps was just not enough time to tell such huge important stories for the show and these characters.
I know Tim and others behind the scenes of the show have made decisions we haven't always loved and maybe it's naive of me to still have trust in them after all this time but it's not just that. I see the signs. If I had seen more effort being put into b/t last season and into promoting them as a couple and especially if I saw that happening this season I'd be a lot more skeptical about the likelihood of Buddie ever happening. But I haven't seen any of that.
This season Tim has talked about how b/t are still together but he doesn't talk about the ship like it's this important thing, he talks about it like T*mmy is just like any other person Buck has dated. Meanwhile Eddie is ALWAYS mentioned when b/t are talked about including by Tim. Networks and showrunners know how to handle these kinds of things. If they wanted to minimize the attention Buddie gets they would have done so. We know this because that's exactly what they did in past seasons while they were with Fox, particularly after Tim left. Instead though since last season they've actually been putting more attention on Buddie, Ryan, and Oliver.
Like I said I get being nervous that something we've all hoped for for a long time might not happen. I know that Buddie and Eddie coming out means more to a lot of us than just some fictional characters and a ship. I know a lot of us see ourselves in them and we also see how important and groundbreaking in a way it will be when they finally go canon. I get why the anxiety around this season is heightened probably more so than any other season before it. We've never been as close to Buddie happening as we are now and that's so exciting but also scary.
But this is why I think we need to take every bts and spoiler etc that we get from the show and people involved in it (including the journalists who review it) with a grain of salt. We just aren't going to know what each episode is about until we watch them. Even when the season starts we need to remember to let the story play out. We might see things we won't like with b/t or Eddie in 801 but there will still be 17 more eps to get through where anything could happen.
We are so lucky that 911 is still on the air with most of the original cast still there and not looking to leave. That all the people that matter Tim, Oliver, and Ryan have all spoken out in support of Buddie happening. I've shipped non canon ships before that just were never going to happen, where showrunners and actors literally made fun of the fans for even shipping it. That's not what's happening with 911. Buddie now is being treated like a legitimate possibility we just have to be patient.
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docholligay · 22 hours
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Thank you all for being concerned about the beeb.
She seems fine, she was back to badgering me about wanting to watch a movie and we are making her favorite (spaghetti) for dinner.
So, I get to the preschool, and the kids are released directly to the parents. I go to sign beeb out, and the teacher tells me, "I need to talk to you." My first thought is that my darling child has returned to her roots from infancy, when she was stuck in a life of crime stealing other children's snacks. She hadn't done that in a long time, but she does love a snack.
But then the teacher says, "She's not in any trouble" which is great. Okay, cool.
I get taken back into the classroom and I can tell beeb has been crying. The teacher then recounts to me that apparently, she and a boy were playing, and seemed to be playing together nicely, and then all of a sudden he hit my daughter and put her in some kind of tight headlock and was squeezing the hell out of her.
I get down on my knees next to her, and I am VIBRATING with rage. I am ready to FUCK UP this three year old. I turn to the gal and say--and everyone who has spent long enough around me can hear exactly how this is coming out of my mouth--"I can't help but notice that it looks like she's had a bloody nose."
The boy has apparently been written up, and was sent home, and after they talk to the supervisor he may or may not be returning at all. I don't know what else they are supposed to do realistically, but holy fuck I am so angry about it.
And, AND, after hearing some stuff from beeb--I've been trying not to bring it up so she doesn't associate preschool with this negative experience, because she has been loving it SO much--I THINK I KNOW WHICH KID IT IS. I figure it out in my head, putting all the tidbits I know together, and this wave of FURY comes over me. It is the Zelda "you just figured it out" chime but assembled from the screams of the damned. I am ready to beat this shit out of this [inappropriate things to say about a three year old redacted]. I do not trust that if I see him in the hallway I will be able to stop myself from going full Jack Russell Terrier on this kid and his parent.
I am REALLY hoping this doesn't ruin her time in preschool. She is still talking about how much she liked her swim lesson today. I am trying not to dwell on it with her because I don't want her to think about it too much.
But it was so hard, she was trying so hard to be brave as we were leaving, and she went, 'I'm still a bit sad"
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chevvy-yates · 3 days
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Sending out kudos to everyone who has shown their love towards Ryder for the past two years.
I love u all very much and every engagement, be it even just a like, means a lot to me.
I've intended to sorta make a cool post of some older vp of him as of today, September 17th, exactly 2 years ago I have created Ryder,— back then as a supposed supportive character for Vijay, very unsure if I would like him as Ry didn't visually turn out as I wanted him to be in the first place and he never went that way either afterwards — yet I find myself writing those lines instead.
I've accepted his look and his imperfection started to grow on me with each picture I took of him. Unlike my other ocs he went his own way leading me along to discover his personality. That's what makes him so different compared to my other blorbos and has me so attached to him.
I did not plan to make him a raver (he was supposed to become an 80s goth punk, a total different style than he's got now) neither that he would end up with a rogue AI controlling him. Only his name, basic info and the toxic family story was planned right from the beginning but that's pretty much it – Ryder showed me the rest of it.
Within the year 2023 I noticed more and more that Ryder has slowly but surly turned out to be my main character.
He turned out to be the most expressive and photogenic one of them all. I don't see him as the prettiest looking either yet he's my most precious and I love every pixel about him.
He's the one thing in my life I am actually truly 100% proud of.
Almost all my ocs exist because of him. They are his support characters. Without him half of them would not even exist. There would be no Thyjs. Even Garnet exists so Ry can live out his passion (that was not really put into the game but exists as lore: Technoise).
I am beyond happy to have created him.
He helps me in a lot of rather personal ways too I do not need to address here.
I got so much to tell about him (also about my other ocs) yet idk if I should continue or not as I find myself stuck with overthinking about it bc of lack of public response literally everywhere (this excludes private chat talks with close friends). Maybe Ryder's too intimidating (not the first time I would read that), his lore gets overlooked easily, or it's to much (confusing) text.
I cannot make anyone force-like him. Tastes are different. Minority is into others oc lore. Less time to read it all. The list is long. I'm aware of it all.
But I cannot underline it enough: do never hesitate to ask me questions about him. He's on my mind 24/7 and my biggest wish is to get this story out and done some day (whenever it will be) and receive some actual feedback on it what was liked.
Just a tiny detail is enough. <3
Another wish I have ever since I joined the CP77 fandom: that people would go back to comment each other more. We all do have little time for it, we all think "oh no so much text to read", we all are in our own bubbles rarley coming out to explore another bubble within this universe. It takes a lot of effort to do. people do seem scared on top to write anything at all for numerous reasons. I have all those problems as well. But I try to sit down and read the one or other lore chunk others wrote down and give a tiny comment as best as I can to make the creator have a smile on their lips. I truly wish we all would do this at least once a week to one person. once a month would be also fine. But if we don't this fandom will be dead soon enough and all thats left is just liking vp with characters on it we know almost nothing about. And maybe even those characters won't have lore anymore bc people stop creating it.
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Note
restricting myself to only do 5 snippets lol i love them all so much
🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (OH!!!!!! @ that last snippet more pls)
➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰(this one has me on the edge of my seat!)(i say as if the others dont lol)
📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖(its new so im requesting more :))
🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷(this one i need a totally normal amount! diaz boys Talking ;-;)
🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(i just love them so much)
You can do as many as you want! Tanis submits 800 million every week.
I'm gonna put Gentle On My Mind at the bottom bc the snippet is sort of smutty, so I'll hide it under the cut.
That being said, 30 for ➰:
Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings
---
His fault. Sure. The naproxen? He shouldn’t have taken it from Rachel. That’s on him, too. Rachel’s kid cracking his skull open? Dumb bad luck. Not on him. But, fair enough… Three out of four. 
“That makes sense,” he tells Eddie weakly. 
“Why?” Eddie asks. 
“Just curious,” Buck mumbles. 
“Well, don’t worry,” Eddie replies. “Not like you’ve had to watch them, right?”
Yeah… He supposes that’s true…
“It doesn’t matter,” Buck says quickly. “Sorry.”
Something sad flashes across Eddie’s expression. He cups Buck’s face and pulls him in for a kiss. Buck allows it to happen, although he’s not sure he’s in the mood for their usual morning activities. 
“We should get going,” Buck says, breaking the kiss. “Don’t want to be late for kayaking today.”
Eddie nods. “Right. No. No, we don’t.”
---
45 for 📖:
---
“Hi,” the woman greets him with a nervous little wave. 
She’s beautiful, Buck thinks. Bright smile. Gorgeous eyes. Eddie is holding her hand.
Buck feels strange. He thought she was out of the picture. Are they back together?
“Shannon,” she adds. “My name is Shannon.” 
“Nice to meet you, Shannon.” Buck says, smiling. He feels a little muted and he doesn’t know why. 
“Nice to meet you, too, best librarian in the world.” 
They chat some more. She’s really nice. Buck can see Christopher in her. Whatever happened there, Buck resolves himself to be happy for the three of them. 
Not that it’s any of his business, anyway. 
vii. 
Life gets busy for a bit. He dates and subsequently breaks up with an interior designer named Ali. In Maddie’s life, there’s a stalking incident. A near kidnapping. Chimney gets hurt. Maddie’s ex ends up in jail. Buck lives in a state of shaky adrenaline for weeks. He takes some time off work to help his sister move apartments again and fight with her new landlord about breaking her lease. Even when he’s back, he doesn’t have as much energy for the job as usual. He feels bad about it, but he just can’t give his all. 
All this to say, he doesn’t get to know Shannon Diaz very well. Even though she’s the one picking Christopher up more and more these days. Even though she’s kind and talkative. Even though Chris lights up when he sees her and it’s clear having her back in his life has been good for him. 
It’s nothing against her, really. He’s just busy. He’s got a lot going on personally. He doesn’t have the same energy for the parents as he did six months ago. No other reason. 
But then… 
Well, then she dies. 
He only finds out about it through Carla. Christopher stops showing up to after school programming. One day. Two. By the third, Buck starts to worry. 
---
60 for 🦷 (YEAH TALKING!):
---
Eddie doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know what he’s said wrong. 
“What about when you got back from Afghanistan and you were hurt?” Chris asks. He seems insistent. 
“Uh,” Eddie furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t think I had any ice cream then, Chris. I can’t remember.”
“No, comfort. Who comforted you?” 
Eddie’s chest feels tight. 
“I mean… I think your mom tried,” Eddie replies weakly. “She had, uh… She had a little kid to think about, though. You. And her mom was sick…”
“So no one?” Chris fills in.
“That doesn’t mean she didn’t try,” Eddie defends Shannon. 
“What about…” Christiopher’s eyes dart around. He’s upset. He’s upset and Eddie can’t tell why. “What about when you were shot?”
Eddie nods. Okay, yes. Yes, he can give a satisfactory answer. 
“Yeah, buddy. Buck was there for me. Comforted me all the time.”
“Just Buck?” Chris asks.
“I mean, other people were there. You were there. You being there helped.”
“What about Ana?” Chris asks. 
“Right, yes. Ana.”
Chris narrows his eyes. 
“What is this about?” Eddie asks. “Why all the interest in my own surgeries, Chris? Yours won’t be that bad, I promise.”
“It’s not that,” Christopher sighs. 
“Then what?” Eddie tries to temper the edge in his voice. He doesn’t know why he is getting frustrated, too. Maybe it’s just the confusion of it all. 
Christopher looks down at his tub of ice cream, then back up at Eddie. He looks like he’s going to cry. It makes Eddie want to cry. 
“I… I thought going to Texas would make me feel better,” Chris says. His voice is wavering. Like it’s about to crack. 
Eddie freezes. The ice cream is probably warmer than the blood in his veins right now. 
“I thought… I thought I’d feel better because you’d feel worse. I thought I’d feel better because I wouldn’t be in your way.”
---
45 for 🚨:
---
“So, uh… So, where is Christopher today?”
Eddie feels a little thrum of apprehension. 
“He’s at the zoo,” Eddie answers. “With his stepfather.”
Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever phrased it quite like this before. To anyone who doesn’t know Buck’s role in his life, Eddie might phrase it like… My partner. My boyfriend. Something like that. There’s a different sort of implication behind my son’s stepfather. A permanence. A finality. One Eddie knows is valid and true. But one that catches Ramon off guard, clearly, from the way he raises his eyebrows. 
“Stepfather?” Ramon asks. 
“Yes,” Eddie replies tightly. Maybe he’s testing him a little. “You saw him. At the funeral. Buck.”
Ramon nods. “My memory of the day is a little fuzzy.”
“Right,” Eddie replies. 
“You’ve been together a long time?” Ramon asks. 
“A year,” Eddie replies. “Friends for longer, before then. He’s a firefighter, too.”
“That’s good. It’s good to… Well, to really know a person.”
Something in his tone says he’s speaking from experience. Like maybe he hadn’t, so well. Or maybe he feels like he doesn’t anymore? 
Eddie nods. “We’re happy.”
He doesn’t know why he feels the need to say this. Perhaps because the implication, when he came out to them all those years ago, was that he could never really be. That he was taking his life in the wrong direction. Well… Here’s the truth. He did right by himself.
---
30 for 🔼:
⚠️NSFW CONTENT AHEAD READ WITH CAUTION⚠️
---
Eddie kisses Shannon as he undresses her. Her mouth. Her cheeks. Down her neck. Her collarbone. Kissing along a line of freckles he has memorized. He knows every inch of her. 
He removes her bra and moves his mouth to her breasts, brain short-circuiting at the fullness of them right now. 
“God, Shannon,” he mutters uselessly. He thinks she says something back but it’s muffled and a little incoherent. 
She’s so beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful. He’ll never stop being amazed by it. 
Her chest has always been sensitive. She’s always liked him kissing her here. Applying a bit of pressure. Today, she’s more sensitive than ever. He obviously understands why. But her reaction takes him by surprise. The volume of her gasping. The sharp digging on her fingernails into his back. It drives Eddie forward with confident resolve. 
He keeps moving. Kissing further and further down her body. Her sternum. He kisses the firm swell of her stomach. Peppers it with the affection he hasn’t been able to give. He kisses her thighs. Another freckle on her hip. He kisses her everywhere he can, and then he gives her exactly what she needs. 
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xruiiii-blog · 1 day
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Hi I’m literally obsessed with this au
I have a couple questions I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you but I’ve been analyzing this comic for way too long
Who is leading mountain to be killed? Who is getting crowned? Why is mountain being killed? Are the rest of the knights/other portraits other ghouls? Who is helping phantom unbury him? Is phantom unveiling him at the end?
I’m so sorry I’m obsessed, your art is amazing and thank you for your time
Thanks for the time and energy you invested into this!!! Wow! I might disappoint you after this haha. But u know! Always analyze and believe in whatever you think it’s the best explanation! I love when ppl have their own understanding of a piece :) that’s why there’s no dialogue
Anyway about the comic…
It supposed to be a simple “once upon a time” kinda thing. A bedtime tell, someone’s small piece of memory, a casual story that’s melancholy. Nobody’s really important, except the little prince and his knight. There’s no deeper meaning other than the lonely prince lost the only person he cares about to a war.
Something about the titan knights is that they don’t care about their identity. Their powers and skills are the things that matters. That’s their identity instead of who that person is under that mask. They are weapons and they like to keep it that way. Meaning that if any one of them dies during the war, a weapon has served its purpose. The others will move on and there’s no sorrow. I don’t want to talk too much about different species lore here it’s a lot…maybe next time :)
However, the two anonymous knights are rather closer to Mountain and Phantom than everyone else. They are also more human-like. They are more sentimental than some others on the team. It’s not anyone’s fault that the titans are this way btw, it’s just how things is. These two knights care about phantom more than the others does spiritually, they kinda understand how close their captain was to the prince and what Mountain meant to him. So they take him to Mount. Usually titans don’t even take the dead body back with them. It’s not like they don’t care, they do, but to them dead body it’s meaningless. No longer serve any purpose. Titans don’t ever grieve, mourn, or anything.
Phantom does. Be glad that he’s even able to contact with the corpse one last time cuz a lot of times soldier’s grave is just an empty tomb. That’s also why he digs. He needs to see it himself in order to let go. He places the veil back to place and sees what he’s familiar with for his whole life. The mere illusion that Mount is still with him.
Honestly this whole thing came to me at 2am and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I feel like its more of a vibe, very vague story and fear of death I didn’t executed it the way I wish I could (skill issue…) anyway my first actual try at drawing comics and it took me 2 miserable weeks(it was okay). I shared this before I have concentrate issue my attention span is short💀…ngl the process it’s challenging and I wasn’t expecting ppl to understand what’s happening or even read it. I didn’t expect myself to finish the whole thing even lol. Glad you like it and look at it with these much appreciation AND letting me know!!! :)) that’s what I was tryna say. 🖤🖤🫶🫶🫶
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vigilante-3073 · 3 days
Text
Daddy's Credit Card
Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)
PART 2
Summary: After what was supposed to be a simple baseball game, Bella finds herself being hunted by James. The family leaps into action to protect her, but will wild card Y/N fall into line or throw Bella to the lions?
TW: Mention of death and violence, lack of regard for the feelings/property of others, angst.
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The Cullens rushed back to their home in a panic, quickly splitting into cars and formulating a plan on how they could protect Bella. James was an excellent hunter and they didn't stand a chance unless they went on the run.
Y/N leaned against the wall of the garage, watching the family scramble around and talk through possible strategies. She sighed softly to herself, thinking about how Edward should just let Bella die and move on.
Edward's head snapped in her direction, sending her a sharp glare, "Stop it," He growled. Y/N scoffed, silently resuming her task of picking the dirt from under her manicured fingernails.
"Y/N, go with Alice and Jasper. You have the strongest gift and you should be the last bit of defense around Bella," Carlisle said.
Y/N made her way over to them, Edward caught her arm before she got into the car, "If you let her die, I will never speak to you again," Edward said.
"Wouldn't exactly be a big loss," Y/N replied, tugging her arm out of his grasp and getting into the car.
Y/N put in her headphones, scolling on her phone as Jasper pulled out of the garage. They were headed to Phoenix, set on putting as much distance between Bella and the tracker as possible. Edward stayed behind, assisting Esme and Rosalie in spreading Bella's scent through the woods to throw the tracker off.
Edward had very little confidence in Y/N, she had become an unknown variable in the family's effort to keep Bella safe. Edward knew that she wouldn't hesitate to let Bella die if she were put in a position where she was the only one between Bella and the tracker.
He could tell that his threat had done nothing to change her mind, but he took comfort in knowing that Alice would monitor her decisions to protect Bella. Edward hated the rift that had formed between him and Y/N since he chose to love Bella despite their differences.
Y/N had become even more of a loose cannon since their argument and Edward found himself unable to even talk to her anymore. She had shut him out in every way aside from her thoughts, which grew more hateful with every passing day.
Spreading Bella's scent through the woods in Forks was found to be ineffective shortly after Bella arrived in Phoenix. The tracker changed direction and Edward rushed to follow him with Carlisle and Emmett.
They called Bella from the road to notify her of the change in their plan. Edward was planning to take her to Vancouver while the rest of the Cullen family hunted the tracker and his mate.
Y/N was laying on the bed in the hotel room, texting with a smile on her face. Alice found herself getting irritated, looking over at Y/N from her spot on the couch beside Jasper. Y/N hadn't said a word during the entire drive and now she laid there grinning at her phone like there wasn't someone actively trying to kill Bella.
"Could you at least pretend to care?" Alice snapped.
"Alice," Jasper said quietly, trying to calm her raging emotions before things could get out of hand.
"Would it change anything?" Y/N asked without looking up from her screen.
"No, but-" "Then no," Y/N stated, getting up from the bed.
"I'm going to the bar," She said.
"You should stay with Bella," Alice said, standing up from her spot on the couch.
"Are you going to come over here and stop me?" Y/N asked.
"Alice, let her go," Jasper said softly, trying to calm the heightened emotions in the room. Alice huffed, shaking her head as she sat back down.
"That's what I thought," Y/N muttered, making her way out of the room.
...
Bella made her way down to the lobby after talking to James on the phone. He had her mother and he was going to kill her unless Bella met with him at the ballet studio.
She peered around the corner, quickly spotting Y/N at the bar and Jasper standing on the other side of the room with Alice.
Bella's heart pounded in her chest as she quickly made her way towards the front door. She turned the corner, jumping as Y/N was suddenly standing in front of her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Y/N asked.
"I-I was just-" Bella started, desperately trying to think of an excuse.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Just what?" She asked, stepping closer to the human.
"I was just gonna get some air," Bella replied.
"Tell me where you were really going or I'll drag you up to our room and tie you to the radiator," Y/N said.
"James called me from my house. H-he has my mom," Bella said shakily.
"Let me guess... He wants you to come alone, you for her?" Y/N asked.
"Yes," Bella nodded.
"If you go, he's going to kill you," Y/N stated.
"I have to save my mom. Please," Bella pleaded.
"I could save you some time and break your neck right here if you want to die that badly," Y/N said.
"I don't want to die, but I have to save my mom," Bella repeated.
"I can give you a twenty minute head start. No more, no less," Y/N said.
"Thank you," Bella said, rushing out the door of the hotel.
"What a shame," Y/N sighed, making her way back over to the bar.
...
Edward and his family arrived at the ballet studio just in time to save Bella. She was injured, but alive. Edward was able to suck James' venom from Bella's veins before she turned and they brought her to the hospital to receive treatment for her injuries. Y/N returned to Forks with Alice, Jasper and Emmett while Carlisle and Edward stayed behind in Phoenix to be with Bella while she recovered.
Alice knew that Y/N let Bella leave the hotel but chose to keep it quiet because everything had worked out. She was definitely going to be monitoring Y/N's decisions more closely after Bella almost died because of her carelessness.
Alice was beginning to question how callous Y/N could really be, there was nothing inside her but anger and hatred. Y/N didn't care about anyone besides herself and it was becoming more apparent.
Bella and Charlie returned to Forks with Edward and Carlisle following closely behind. James' mate had vanished and Edward was not willing to risk leaving Bella without protection until she was located.
"Alice told me about what you did in Phoenix," Edward stated, standing in the doorway to her room.
Y/N flipped the page of her magazine, "I assumed that she would," She said, eyes remaining on the glossy pages.
"What is it going to take to get you to see how much I care about her?" Edward said.
"You have an infatuation with her, Edward. You don't love her," Y/N stated.
"I do love her," He said.
Y/N looked up at him, "Then turn her, let her live out an eternity in this house with you," She said.
"It doesn't have to be that way," Edward snapped.
"Yes, it does. You're a moron if you think it can work otherwise," Y/N said, looking back down at her magazine, "Get out of my room," She said, flipping the page.
"Bella is coming here tonight and I want you to stay as far away from her as possible," Edward said.
"Won't be an issue," Y/N muttered.
...
Y/N stood out on the balcony, watching the forest dim as the sun sunk below the horizon. She heard the door open behind her, not needing to turn around at the suddenly overwhelming scent of human blood.
"Edward doesn't want you around me," Y/N said.
"Yeah, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you did for me in Phoenix," Bella said.
Y/N scoffed, turning to look at the young girl, "What I did for you? You can't really be that stupid," Y/N said.
"I-I don't understand," Bella said softly.
"Don't mistake my indifference for compassion, Bella. I couldn't care less if you live or die," Y/N said.
"But I thought-" "The only reason I haven't killed you myself is because Edward would kill me for it," Y/N said.
"I didn't-" "With all due respect, which is admittedly a very minuscule amount, there is nothing of interest that you could say to me. This conversation is over," Y/N said, stepping around Bella and making her way back into the house.
Edward was standing by the doorway, obviously ready to interfere if the conversation went in a direction that Bella was not equipped to handle. His eyes followed her as she moved across the room, "You think I'd kill you to protect her?" Edward questioned.
"Am I wrong?" Y/N asked, looking over at him. Bella stepped into the house, lingering awkwardly by the doorway as she took in the sudden tension of the room.
"You're my family," Edward said.
"That's not an answer," Y/N replied.
She looked over at Bella, suddenly finding herself slammed back against the wall as the thought of tearing out Bella's throat came to mind.
Edward stared down at her, breathing heavily as he kept her pinned in place. A confused look crossed his face when he realized that there was no intention behind the thought. Y/N was just trying to get a reaction out of him to prove her point and he fell for it immediately.
Y/N looked up at him, watching the realization dawn on him as he slowly released her, "You treat me like a rabid dog that you need to chain up despite knowing me better than anyone in the entire world... I have never suffered a bigger betrayal and you still struggle to understand why I am so spiteful towards you," Y/N said.
"I never meant to hurt you," Edward said.
"But you did," Y/N stated.
"Y/N-" "I loved you," She said.
"I know," Edward replied.
She huffed a laugh, "You continue to surprise me with how callous you truly are. We're more alike than you'd like to believe, Edward," Y/N said, making her way out of the room.
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sadstrever · 22 hours
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i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.
anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.
this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.
i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.
i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.
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Text
Open Arms
This is the fourth chapter of the Troy saga from EPIC.
Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @myfairkatiecat @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @ham-cheese-toastie
As Dex and Fitz stepped off of the ship, Dex placed his hand on Fitz’s arm. “You can relax, my friend,” he said, a small smile twitching his lips. 
“What?” Fitz said, snatching his arm away and drawing his sword, scanning the dark forest suspiciously. 
“I’m a medic, Fitz. I can tell you’re stressed. Just try to relax, please,” Dex pleaded. “We made it through the war, we can make it through this. We’ll be fine, you’ll see.” 
Fitz snorted, striding ahead. Dex hurried to catch up, calling, “Is this how we’re supposed to live? In constant fear? This is a chance for you to try to be a little more open to the world!”
Fitz shrugged, but Dex could tell he was getting the point. Dex took a breath, preparing to try again. “Let me tell you something that I was taught years and years ago–”
Fitz tensed, holding up a hand to stop them. He put a finger to his lips, pointing to the tall trees surrounding them. The sky was so far away that it was hard to see the stars, but what Dex did see took his breath away. Small creatures with bright golden-orange eyes were perched on every branch, nestled in every bush, just. . . watching. Their eyes glowed like torches and occasionally they made squeaky purrs and grunts. As soon as Fitz and Dex stopped moving, all of them said in eerie unison, “Welcome.”
“Stay back!” Fitz shouted, swapping his sword for a bow and arrows. He notched three arrows at once with astonishing speed and aimed them at the closest creatures.
“Stay back, stay back,” they repeated quietly, shuffling backward.
Dex took the opportunity to whisper under his breath, "Fitz, greet the world with open arms.”
Fitz relaxed slightly, saying in a calmer tone, “We’re only here for food.”
“Food?” Hundreds of glowing pairs of eyes blinked and came closer.
Stay back, I’m warning you! If we don’t come back by sunrise, six hundred men will light this place on fire!”
Suddenly, ten of the small grey animals crawled forward with baskets of fruit. Dex didn’t recognize it, but he figured it was safe. These mystery island inhabitants had no reason to harm them. Fitz cautiously reached out and pulled the baskets closer and the creatures returned to their spots among the trees.
That was…strange. Dex thought, but out loud he said, “See? That’s what happens when you give others a chance to prove themselves!”
Fitz sighed, tearing his hand through his brown hair. “Dex, I wish I could believe that, but look at this food. It has glowing seeds. This is a lotus. It controls your mind. That’s what we’d get with open arms.” He said the last part in a disgusted snort.
Dex crouched, getting himself at eye level with the lotus-eaters and smiling. “Do you know where there is other food?”
“A cave!” they said in squeaky unison.
“Great! Which direction is this food-filled cave?”
“East!” They chirped. 
“Thank you,” Dex said, standing up. As the pair walked back to the shore, Fitz sighed and said, “I suppose I can try to greet the world with open arms.”
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nekohime19 · 2 days
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Heart behind the lie # 19 : broken soul
The monkeys discover what MK was hiding
Macaque was ahead of him, Sock curled up on his shoulders. The little fluff ball had demanded to be carried the second they began to walk and the warrior conceded easily, even him couldn't win in the face of her sparkling eyes. Sun Wukong discreetly took one or two pictures, and if Macaque remained obvious, Sock turned once or twice towards the camera, her eyes flashing in the dark night.
They caught up with the kid quite easily, with Macaque's way of bending the shadows to his will, and his golden vision, it wasn't very difficult. Even if the sage insisted for the warrior to not push himself, he hovered around him each time his frown seemed a little too deep, peeking over his shoulder with worry. And each time he approached him, Sock pawed at his face. Macaque was annoyed with his hovering, but his frown eased each time Sock pawed at him, softness settling on his face for a second, before letting smugness take over.
MK wasn't going very fastly, he was walking along the shaded streets, singing to an old song blasting in his headphones.
Macaque jumped on a nearby trash can and climbed a wall, running on the roof. Sock was unbothered by it all, licking one of her paws and rubbing her fuzzy head as she rested on the warrior shoulders. Sun Wukong stilled a second, a bit stunned by the sudden jump. He took a deep breath, chasing away his insecurities, and tried to mimic the warrior. The first jump came easily, but he tripped when he landed on the roof, feet stuttering.
Macaque caught his wrist before he could stumble, and steadied him. Sun Wukong quickly regained his balance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"Oh, wow. Guess I drank too much." Awkwardly chuckled the sage.
"Wukong, you drank tea." Replied the Macaque with a raised eyebrow.
"My statement still stands." Mumbled the King.
"You idiot." Laughed the warrior, he nuzzled the cat perched on his shoulders, Sock meowed happily and nuzzled back. "Look, she agrees with me. I'm her favorite." The King gasped, fasly outraged, and looked at his lil lady with teary eyes.
"Nooo, my fluffy triangle, how could you." Mumbled the sage, he leaned over his lil bud, Sock meowed at him joyously, happy to see him, and licked his snout. "Hmm, nah, I'm still her favorite."
"She just knows you better. She's on my shoulders now, so that's proof I'm her favorite."
"No, she's just curious." Refuted the sage. He leaned over his cat and nuzzled her lovingly. "Says, my lil sage, who do you prefer between me and Macaque?" Sock tilted her head and looked between him and Macaque. She pawed at him, and he beamed, going as far as to jump in the air in joy.
"That means nothing." Chuckled the warrior. "She's still on my shoulders." Sock meowed at the warrior and gently pawed his face (she was more gentle with him than with the sage). "Look, she's pawing at me now."
"Well, sure, you could be her second favorite, I suppose."
"Hm, guess it's better than nothing. Right, lil sage of floof ?" Sock purred happily, and hid in his neck, enjoying the warmth he provided. Sun Wukong looked over the both of them, a soft smile on his lips. His heart was fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, it was so lovely to see the both of them bonding. He didn't know it felt so good to see two people (cat?) he cared about bonding with each other. Macaque must have felt his gaze, he looked up at him with inquiry. The sage stopped staring, and cleared his throat, trying to calm his beating heart.
"Let's go, MK will lose us."
"I doubt that, the kid is a snail."
"Hey, don't doubt my mentee. He's fast as a jaguar!"
"Hm, are you sure about that?" Asked the macaque as he pointed at the kid, who wasn't very far despite their little breather.
"… That's an exception."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."
"How dare you." Chuckled the King.
"I always dare, Wukong. You know me." Replied the macaque, he resumed their chasing, running on the roof with light footsteps. Sun Wukong ran after him, trying to smother his laugh in his palm to not blow their cover.
MK walked towards the outskirts of the city, he stretched a little there and turned into an eagle. Wukong wondered why he bothered walking, he could have flown right away, but he supposed he had his reasons. The sage summoned his cloud, fluffied it a little, and tentatively offered his hand to the warrior, eyes fleeting. Macaque passed by him without taking his hand, because of course he did, and climbed the cloud, settling comfortably. He put Sock in his arms, holding her tightly, and turned towards the sage with a fanged smile on his lips. The sage's heart skipped a beat, and he climbed his own cloud with a thumping tail. They soared after the kid, navigating through the clouds with ease, using the sage's piercing eyes to find shaded paths.
MK flew across a desert, his wings piercing the chilling winds of the night. Sun Wukong had an inkling as to where his mentee was going. It wasn't hard to guess considering the kid mentioned Red Son. Soon enough, the Bull's fortress appeared on the horizon, a castle of steel standing strong in the midst of ruby red trails of lava. MK landed quietly, before the massive entry, and regained his form. He was brought in by Red Son, and disappeared behind the heavy door.
"Maybe they're just hanging out?" Mumbled the warrior as they hovered above the fortress.
"Do you really believe that?" Replied the King.
"They seemed quite chummy."
"Chummy as in…"
"I don't know… Maybe they're dating."
"What? MK is too young for that!"
"He's 22?" Retorted the warrior, an amused shine in his eyes, as if Wukong's plight was funny.
"Exactly. That's too young. Anyway, we're going in."
"Oh yeah ? And who's gonna take care of miss cutie over there?" Asked the warrior as he petted the lil lady spread on his lap, she meowed happily and chased after the pets. Sun Wukong frowned for a second, he took a bunch of his hair and invoked one clone.
"You, take care of Sock while we're gone." Ordered the sage.
"Got it boss!" Yelped the clone, he carefully took the cat from Macaque's lap, eyes lingering a bit too long on the warrior, before nuzzling the lil lady lovingly. "Aww, come on my lil sage, you're hanging out with the coolest clone tonight."
"Well, that's one way to solve this." Muttered the ebony monkey.
"Yeah, now come on!"
The sage leaped out of the cloud and transformed into a hawk, Macaque followed behind him, traveling through his shadows. They passed by an open window, quietly landing in one of the castle corridors.
"Hey, Macaque. You're good with magic or…?" Tentatively asked the sage as he regained foot, and changed back. Macaque flinched, tail shyly coiling on his ankle, and looked away. Sun Wukong wordlessly took one of his hands and pressed it against his forehead, giving bits of his magic to aid the other. Macaque yanked back his hand after a few seconds and muttered a wavering “thank you”.
The sage turned into a butterfly and flew away, his eyes glowing with a subtle shine to help him see through the dark. Macaque sank in his shadows, quietly following after the sage. Sun Wukong found his mentee rather quickly, MK was with Red Son, in a lavish room filled with papers and scrolls. The sage hid in one corner, listening attentively to the two chattering kids. Macaque settled in the sage's shadow, taking control of his silhouette, Sun Wukong tried to not let himself be affected by that. The feeling of having someone in his shadow was nostalgic, something he was used to in his youth. But it wasn't the time for nostalgic musing, he had to focus.
"So you found the next piece?" Asked MK with a beaming smile.
"Well, yeah. It's not that far from here but it's in a dangerous territory."
"I'm sure Mei and I can handle it! Besides, I'm the Monkie Kid."
"It's serious, Noodle boy. You're sure you don't want to ask your mentors for help? Actually, they should know, especially the black furred one." Sighed the little Bull as he turned towards a worn map carefully hung on one of his walls.
"No… They're going through a lot right now, I don't want to worry them." Mumbled the kid as he played with his hoodie strings.
"But it concerns them."
"Yeah… But I don't want to… you know how Macaque is. It's better if we do it this way."
"We don't even know if the black simian will agree to try-"
"I'm sure he will. I know he doesn't want to… you know."
"Alright." Conceded Red Son. MK suddenly sprang on his feet, eyes narrowed in confusion, flickers of gold passing through his iris. Sun Wukong was at the same time very proud of his mentee for sensing their presence, but also very worried. Before he could try to hide, he was pushed in the shadows, swallowed by the darkness.
The shadows were cold, snakes of darkness coiling around him, dragging him in their nest, trapping him inside. Macaque was the only thing he could grab in this place, the only thing he could sense. The warrior made them emerge outside, in front of the heavy door. Sun Wukong immediately called his cloud, and they soared away from the fortress.
"I thought you would take longer, what happened?" Asked the clone as he handed snacks to the lil lady. Where he got the snacks was a mystery, Wukong knew it wasn't made of hair.
"The kid spotted us." Sighed the King, the clone nodded, he poofed himself when he sensed the cold atmosphere between them. Sun Wukong took Sock and held her tightly, not willing to let her free on the cloud. They flew in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, musing about what they heard. "I… Do you know what the kid was talking about?" Finally asked the sage.
"No." Sighed the warrior, eyes downcast, a storm brewing in his twilight iris.
"Do you think it's linked to your state? "Macaque flinched, he turned away, arms clutching his own fur.
"Why do you think that?"
"They were scrolls about soul magic littering the room. And from how they talked about you… it's safe to assume it's linked."
"… I don't know, maybe." Silence embraced them once again, Sun Wukong let a few gusts of wind pass through his fur, letting the warrior catch his breath, before resuming the talk.
"I know… that you don't want to talk about it. And I understand, I don't want to push you. But if the kid is involved I… I can't let this go."
"I'll talk to the kid." Conceded the warrior, he curled up on himself, as if he was trying to hide from the sage's gaze.
"Macaque. I need to know what's going on."
"Can't you just let me handle it?" Quietly asked the warrior, tail shaked by nervous starts.
"I…why don't you want to tell me?" Mumbled the sage, throat clogged by unsaid feelings, unsaid fears. He petted Sock to calm his stuttering breath.
"I just… I’m not weak."
"I know you're not."
"You're gonna blame yourself."
"I'm already doing it." The warrior sighed, he straightened a little, but didn't turn to face him.
"I… The lady bone demon butchered my resurrection. I think you can guess what that means."
"Fuck. I… she really used necromancy. Macaque you… does the kid know?"
"He knows. I think he's searching for a cure or whatever. I didn't think he would put himself in danger I…" Macaque’s head dropped to his knees, shoulders shaking. "Fuck. Why does he do this?"
"Because he cares." Replied the King, he slowly approached the warrior, one hand hovering above him, but never touching him. "I care too." He quietly added.
"But it's hopeless. There is no cure."
"Don't say that-"
"I know so. I searched for a long time. There is no cure. I'm doomed to live the rest of my life as a fucking parasite or die because of her. Fuck. The last few months made me forget that."
"Don't… Listen, I'm going to confront the kid, and then we're going to help you."
"Don't make me hope." Hissed the warrior. "Stop making me hope, I'm tired of being deceived." Sock looked up once she heard the anguish in the ebony monkey's voice, she leaped out of the King lap and quietly approached the warrior, gently pawing at his arm. Macaque turned towards her and petted her, she meowed happily and climbed on his lap. The warrior curled up around her, shoulders shaking a little less.
"Okay… Don't hope then, just let me handle it." Sighed the sage. They were approaching flower fruit mountain, the volcano ring recognizable from afar. The King noticed the clouds brewing above his kingdom and cursed. "I… is it a bad time to tell you that tonight is a storm night ?"
"Are you for real?" Grumbled Macaque.
"Yeah, I think it's gonna be pretty bad. You.. Hm… you're welcome in the cave by the way. If you want to spend the storm here."
"… Yeah, okay, whatever. I'm tired."
They quietly landed in the water curtain cave, the rest of the troop already snuggling there, sleeping away without any worries. Macaque's expression softened when he spotted the troop, his body relaxed, and his hold on Sock weakened a little. Nonetheless he still didn't free her, Sock didn't seem to mind, enjoying being cradled so softly. Sun Wukong jumped out of his cloud and made it disappear with a flick of wrist, he turned towards the warrior, tail twitching nervously behind him, and cleared his throat.
"Hm, you can come inside my shack, if you want?" Macaque looked at him, eyes searching, before heading towards the shack. Sun Wukong repressed the joyous trill wanting to escape his lips and followed after the warrior.
Macaque settled on the couch, Sock on his lap, and busied himself with the lil lady, letting her pawe at his tail as she saw fit. Sun Wukong fled to the kitchen, trying to find something to eat to appease his worry. He took a peach popsicle and ate away his nervosity. His eyes lingered on the others popsicles, he hesitantly took another one and returned to the living room. Sun Wukong sat on the couch and nervously played with the tip of his tail.
"Hm, here, y-you hungry?" The sage handed the popsicle to the warrior, Macaque looked at him for a few seconds, before sighing and accepting the olive branch.
"You didn't do anything wrong." Mumbled the macaque as he ate the popsicle.
"I… Well, I made you uncomfortable."
"You wanted answers." Sighed the warrior. They ate their snacks in silence, both musing over what happened.
"I'm glad you apologized to the kid." Suddenly mumbled the sage.
"It was high time."
"Still, the kid deserved it. I should apologize to him too…"
"Hm, yeah, he doesn't deserve any of our bullshit."
"Yeah, I'm not a very good mentor, am I? He always gets dragged in my messes." Awkwardly chuckled the sage, he regretted saying that the moment the words passed his lips. This wasn't something he wanted to share, but yet his lips seemed strangely loose around the warrior.
"You're… You're not bad. At mentoring I mean." The warrior let his claws pass through Sock's fur, he began to groom her, a nervous tick perhaps. Sock was already used to living with a monkey, so she wasn't bothered by the grooming. Sun Wukong groomed her a lot when he was stressed.
"… You're sure? I think you are a way better mentor than me."
"I'm really not." Replied Macaque. "I mean, yeah, I'm awesome, and you're awkward." The warrior's tail brushed against his in a teasing manner, Sun Wukong chuckled.
"How kind of you."
"I'm the kindest I know. But seriously, you're great. You made mistakes but you're trying."
"Yeah… "Wukong played with his popsicle stick, spinning it between his claws. He bit his lips, not wanting to let the words out, but they passed his lips regardless of his wishes. "Did I ever hurt MK?" Macaque stopped playing with Sock and turned towards him, tail still. Sun Wukong curled on himself, belittling himself for asking that.
"What do you mean?"
"It's… no, it's nothing."
"No, what do you mean?" Sock jumped out of Macaque's laps the second he moved, the warrior scouted closer and Wukong turned away.
"Did I… ever hurt him when I was in my feral state?"
Macaque tensed, something almost unnoticeable, so small it could have flown past him if he hadn't paid attention, but Wukong had keen eyes, and this small shiver from the other was enough to fill him with dread. The thought wasn't new, he knew he had done something to MK, but some part of him was still trying to refute it.
"You… I mean you were attacking everyone so-"
"So I did." Mumbled the sage. "Did I hurt you too?"
"No, you were… really sweet with me."
"Great." Sun Wukong turned towards the warrior and dived in his eyes. "I guess I have one more thing to say sorry for, MK is gonna get a lot of apologies."
"Apologizing is hard. But you can do it." Macaque smiled at him, something awkward, and wavering, but real. "You're the great sage aren't you?"
"You bet I am." Sun I King turned away, unable to keep looking at the other without letting his emotions consume him.
The storm bursted out outside, loud and obnoxious, the sky was torn apart by lightning.
"You're alright? With your ears I mean?"
"Yeah, the dampening spell is still on."
"Cool."
The lights inside of his shack got out, perhaps disturbed by the lightning. Sun Wukong jumped on his feet, startled by the sudden dark.
"I'm getting candles, just wait here."
The sage tried to navigate in the dark, but he hit his feet on his table sides and fell on the floor.
"You're okay?" Asked the warrior.
"Yeah, yeah, just don't move." The sage held his feet, trying to repress the groans bubbling up in his throat. Sock jumped on his chest, because of course she did, and pawed at him. "Sock, wait, I'm suffering there lil sage don't pawe ate me" . The sage held his lil lady, she meowed at him, softly pawing at his hands to free herself. "I swear sometimes I feel like you're trying to kill me."
"You know you have gold vision, right?"
"Fuck… didn't thought of that."
Macaque bursted out laughing, the sage could hear his tail thumping happily on the couch. And even if he couldn't see him, Sun Wukong could easily imagine how he would look. The warrior would laugh unabashedly, fangs glinting, and eyes crooked like moon crescents. He would calm down after a while and try to hide his laugh with his palms, embarrassed by his own loudness, if he had his scarf he would hide in it.
Sun Wukong chuckled along, still holding his lil bud, heart beating just a little bit faster.
This was nice.
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