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firsttimewriter92 · 8 months

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Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 1; Part 2; Part 4

Description: Your first date with Simon draws near and it turns out to be absolutely magical

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, pining and longing getting stronger, reader is not vegetarian; mentions of previous mental abuse by an ex; Please be careful when reading

Word count: 4.368

A/N: Hi everyone <3 Part three is here. Please read this one with a bit of caution.

I´m discussing something that has happened in my last relationship and it might be a bit difficult to read. It´s how I cope. I did something like this in another fic of mine and I realised how much it helped me and apparently others. So I incorporated another experience in this fic, hoping that the toothrotting fluff will make up for it.

Please enjoy none the less <3

It was Friday and your heart was already pumping so many different hormones and feelings through your system that you actually began to doubt your sanity.

You hadn’t seen Simon since he hung up your shelf and introduced you to his dog. The dog. God, the moment you thought he had a girlfriend and had seen how he behaved around you had made you so angry for a second. Thankfully however it was all just a misunderstanding and Simon had given exactly what you had needed at that moment.

Total and complete clarity.

He seemed like the type of man that was not socially awkward per se but definitely a bit of an isolated character. You couldn’t see him at lavish social gatherings or busy events. I think the mask would be too much of a conversation starter for it to not get awkward eventually. If he wanted to wear it, whatever his reason was, you were in no position to question him. You didn’t lie when you told him that it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You were just curious, and if he didn’t want to tell you why he wore it, then that´s what it was going to be.

Secretly though, your mind was itching with the numerous faces you´d conjured up in the middle of the night. You found yourself awake wondering how his nose was shaped, how plump or not his lips were, if he had stubble, a beard or was he clean shaven? It didn’t matter to you as much as you thought. You´ve had crushes on men before that had shown even less than hair and eyes. Given they were fictional, the cush itself was real.

And so was the one you´d developed on the brown eyed, whisky voiced half stranger living next to you.

When you got out of bed Saturday morning, you dreaded the whole day ahead of you. He´d only pick you up at 8 so you had to occupy yourself for, what? Another ten hours?

“Fuuuuuuuuck” you sighed as you made your daily dose of coffee and got some eggs and toast ready.

Taking it all to your living room you plopped down on your couch and started your TV. Narcos was silently playing in the background as you made some mental notes about what you needed to do before Simon picked you up.

Shower, shave (maybe even exfoliate), pick out a casual outfit, clean up your apartment at least somewhat. Enough time was spent living out of cardboard boxes and not really settling. Being comfortable in your home would surely help making you more comfortable with yourself and therefore comfortable with the thought of an absolute hunk like Simon being interested in you.

It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unlovable, no. Not at all. But the men than had shown interest in you before were never like Simon. And that didn’t mean just physically.

Your last relationship opened your eyes to the men that you usually attracted. Insecure boys, hiding behind a strong masculine façade and instead of working on themselves, or realizing what they lacked, always bound someone to them that wasn’t yet aware of their own worth.

Unfortunately, you used to be that kind of person. Your ex was one of the most interesting men you´d ever met. When he started to take an interest in you, you were ecstatic and soon after you began dating. Over the years however, he slowly chipped away at your confidence, misused your people pleasing tendencies and slowly…oh so slowly made you emotionally dependent on him.

So much so, that there was a time where you actually thought there was no other man for you on this planet other than him. That his actions and words were only for your benefit even if you felt deep down that something wasn’t right about the way he was treating you.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, however. So, every time you tried to have a talk with him about how his behavior made you feel, he only needed about 5 minutes of constant talking to make you believe he was actually a great partner and that the problem was either nonexistent, only in your head or your fault.

This led to the fact that trying to argument in your favor was something you´d completely lost.

By the time he almost convinced you that you couldn’t do anything right or at least without him, that you weren’t very much intelligent but super sweet, so it was worth staying with you, you had already forgiven him for cheating on you once.

The second time however was your breaking point. The fact that the girl was underage opened your eyes about him so quickly, that you basically ran for the hills. Behavioral therapy and some new complexes were the result of all that. It did work though. Two years later your life was yours again to take and you grabbed it tightly.

Still, some of the things that had happened changed the way you saw yourself.

Simon was different. He seemed confident in a way that didn’t need to put others down for it. He was friendly, mild and cheeky. And you were going on a date with him. You probably would have never asked him so his direct confession that he was indeed trying to flirt and him asking you out first, made your confidence spike like nothing had done in the past two years.

You tried not to let it go to your head. Never again would you define your worth over the attention of an attractive man. But that feeling never once arose when you thought about Simon. Only excitement and juvenile glee. You marveled in it as you practically danced around your apartment, cleaning, putting stuff away, getting a load of laundry going.

Around three o´clock you got hungry again and decided to walk to the market around the corner to get one of your favorite sandwiches.

You walked into your bedroom to put on a pair of lose, flowy beige pants and a black tank top before putting on your shoes. You grabbed your bag and walked outside. The sun was shining brightly, only disrupted by one or the other white and fluffy cloud as you made your way to the market. It was like the busy streets of London as well as the weather congratulated you on a successful and productive day so far. Smiling and humming happily you purchased your lunch and made your way back with an additional fizzy raspberry lemonade you just couldn’t pass up.

Back in your apartment you closed your door and looked around. It was all coming together. No more boxes, the plastic plants all where you wanted them, and the handing shelf finally filled with a colorful display of your favorite books. A deep breath came forth as you enjoyed your meal and lemonade on your couch. It was still a little weird to you to be fully responsible for your own feelings and the actions you had to take to achieve them. Making yourself happy was never something you put much effort into and that had also been something you had to learn the hard way.

Now, you thought about your life and for the first time in years felt content. Like you didn’t need anybody else to feel this way. Just yourself. And with this feeling you noticed, came the confidence and willingness to let somebody else in again.

There it was again. Your inner eye producing a mess of blond hair, brown, expressive eyes and an impressive body. With all the nonphysical attributes he´d shown you so far that made him so endearing, it was hard not to notice how your body reacted whenever you thought about his broad back, his waist or his massive thighs. You didn’t want to objectify him and still, in the late hours of the night you and your mind had managed to get you off so hard, you had to use a pillow over your mouth to drown out your screams and whimpering.

A shiver ran down your spine when you thought about last night. Even though it took you about 15 minutes to calm down enough from your orgasm to catch a coherent thought, Simon still managed to invade your dreams. His raspy voice in your ear telling you to go to sleep. Telling you gently to rest and leave it to him (whatever he meant), holding you close to his chest, tangling his legs with yours and drowsily stroking your back.

Waking up without him though always put a bit of a sting to your chest. That feeling was soon replaced with an embarrassed giggle as you fell backwards into your pillows again with your palm covering your eyes.

Maybe, just maybe these dreams could become a reality. If you played your cards right.

Determined to make this date a success even though you had no idea what his plan was, you made your way into your shower. Humming along to your little radio you turned off your shower to start shaving when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was again, and your heart swelled twice its size. He was taking a shower, singing along to some tune you´d never heard before. It was mesmerizing. Slow and deep. The wall prevented you from hearing what exactly the words were, but the melody alone was so beautiful that you didn’t care.

You´d just finished shaving and were reluctant to turn on the water again when his shot off and the singing yet again stopped. “Bloody hell” you muttered with an airy, fluttering feeling in your stomach. Pampering was the next step. You used your rich body butter and your loveliest perfume. Feeling great and refreshed you used the rest of the time to put on your fluffy bathrobe, sit on your couch and tend to your toes and feet since you decided to wear sandals.

Only five minutes left, and you just finished putting the last efforts into your hair as you heard three strong knocks on your door. Hurrying over to your door you almost tripped over your own feet. Taking a deep breath, you opened your door. Holy gosh darn fucking crap!! That was not fair. It just wasn’t.

Matching his black mask, he wore a black polo shirt that hugged him way better than the other shirts you´d seen on him. His dark washed jeans were held up by a brown leather belt with a silver buckle. You knew he was built but this? The way his biceps was stretching the material and the jeans clung to his thighs made your mouth water. He´d styled his hair only slightly but it sat still adorably tousled upon his head.

You smiled up at him and squeezed out a breathless “Hi”. Simon looked down at you with slightly bulging eyes as he took in your outfit of fitted blue jeans and a flowy, emerald-green blouse. Flitting his eyes to yours again he smiled. “Hi” he repeated in a happy tone.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, closing your door behind you and locking it. Only now did you realize that Simon was carrying a small basket. A blanket attached to it and your heart started galloping in your chest. “Did you cook for us?” you asked in an impressed tone. He shook his head slightly. “Nah, I didn’t cook. Not this time.” This time, oh God help me. “But I did assemble of sorts.”

“I see” you said happily and started leaving the building next to him. “I thought we´re doing casual” you said teasingly as you eyed him from the side. Simon snorted shortly as he raised an eyebrow and let his eyes wander down your body. It gave you a sensation unlike any other. “So did I. But I´m glad I wanted a little more than casual. Otherwise, I would have been fatally underdressed.”

A violent shiver ran down your back when you saw his eye wink at you. Your face was burning, you were sure of it.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you noticed him leading you towards nearby park. “Patience” he scolded good naturedly.

About 15 minutes later you ended up on a slight hill in the middle of a beautiful park. Simon stopped next to a tree and began rolling out the blanket. His hulking form seemed a little out of place there, trying to straighten out the blanket. You felt your features soften as he gave out a small grunt before sitting up on his knees and looked up at you. His eyes were glimmering in the gradually setting sun and he patted the blanket next to him softly.

Grinning you lowered yourself and got comfortable. From your place up on the hill you had a stunning view of the soft, carpet like plane of grass spreading out in front of you. Many other people were out and about, walking their dogs, going for a run, casually hanging out with friends. The glimmering skyline of London was seen in the background of massive oak trees at the very end of the park.

“You hungry?” Simons deep voice seeped into your ears and with an excited smile you turned your had and nodded. You observed as he opened the basket and pulled out several boxes with tuna sandwiches (no crust), deviled eggs, veggie sticks, tomatoes, a bag of tortilla chips and what looked like self-made guacamole. The last item he produced was a bottle of what looked like expensive white wine before his eyes caught yours again. Your mouth hung comically wide open as you stared at the feast in front of you.

“You´re not vegetarian, are you?” he suddenly asked and looked at the sandwiches sheepishly. You almost squeaked the way he looked so adorably worried for a second.

“Vegan, actually” you said dryly and almost doubled over laughing when he gave you a shocked look. He rolled his eyes and handed you a tuna sandwich. “Sorry” you mumbled as you took it from him. Then, something came to you. “Uhm” you said carefully as your eyes fluttered down to his mask.

His eyes crinkled again. “If you don’t mind” he said quietly and produced something else from the basket that almost made you choke on your bite of tuna. The silk scarf dangled promisingly and naughtily between his fingers.

You couldn’t really tell if it was supposed to be a joke or not. You looked around you but there were no other people on the hilltop other than you. The next group of people so far away, their heads were the size of a pinhead.

“I´m asking too much, aren’t I?” Simon said as he lowered the scarf back into the basket. “No,” you said quickly. Your voice octaves higher. Did he not realize that this scenario was the beginning of almost every woman’s wet dream? “Give me the scarf, Simon. Please.”

“You sure?” he asked you. You nodded firmly. “If you need me to wear it while we eat, I will.”

His chest seemed to inflate dramatically. “Let me” he breathed and moved his body closer to you. This is a dream; it must be! Closing your eyes, you felt your hands shaking slightly in your lap as you felt the scarf being put over your eyes.

Simon´s warm breath cascaded over your face as he carefully knotted the piece of fabric behind your head. Your pulse was hammering away when you felt his heat, smelled his wonderful musky, citrussy scent cling to the skin of his throat and face. The deep breath you took before you felt him retreat slowly was nothing you could have stopped and again your ears were blessed with an adorable ´hehe´.

“Alright?” he asked. “Yep,” you breathed. “Can´t see a damn thing.” Grinning you tried to feel for your sandwich a little clumsily.

“Hold on” you heard Simon chuckle. “Seeing as I´m taking your ability to see, I think it´s only fair if I-“ a warm hand touched yours and placed your sandwich back in it. “Help you out a little.” His voice lowered even further. Something you would have bet on wasn’t possible. “Y-You really thought this through, haven’t you?” you asked with a hitch in your voice before taking another bite to occupy your mouth.

“Well. I really didn’t want to pass up an opportunity with you” he answered truthfully. A little strangled sound escaped you seconds before a huge smile split your lips.

You sat for another moment in comfortable silence. “How´s the food?” he suddenly asked. Something was off about his voice and suddenly you realized that he had to have removed his mask. A bead of sweat ran down your back. “It´s delicious” you said as you took the last bite of your sandwich. “Did you make all of it yourself?” Simon hummed. “I did. I usually only cook for myself so I don´t get too fancy with it. But I do enjoy it.”

You carefully patted around you to get to the devilled eggs, trying to remember where Simon had put the container but all you suddenly touched was smooth jeans. “Oh, ´M sorry” you said and retracted your hand quickly. “No worries” Simon said. “What do you want?” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Deviled egg, please” you sang and held open your hand.

“Nuh-uh” Simon said and moved in front of you again. “Open up.”

Oh you´ve got to be absolutely shitting me. This cheeky bastard wasn’t really going to…

You obeyed of course, what else was there to do? You opened your mouth and a moment later your lips wrapped around the egg. You could feel Simon´s fingers holding it to your lips before he retracted them in the last second. “Oh my god” you moaned around your mouth full of egg. “Simon, these are incredible.” You heard a gurgling noise in front of you; a bottle of wine being opened shortly after so you brushed it aside.

This is how you spend the next hour. Simon occasionally feeding you with deviled eggs, chips and guacamole. Only the veggie sticks he let you eat by yourself. He handed you the bottle of wine whenever you asked for it and you really tried not to think about how as teenagers, you and your friends had argued many times about weather drinking from the same bottle was equivalent to a kiss or not.

The alcohol settled comfortably into your stomach as did his delicious food.

“Almost time” he said. “Let me get the scarf off you.” Your senses already heightened, you knew exactly where he was on the blanket, when he was in front of you and when his fingertips were about to touch you.

“Time for what?” you asked with a curious smile. You heard a chuckle before the scarf was removed and Simons face came into view. So much closer than it ever had been. He didn’t move an inch, your noses almost touching. His eyes wandering over your face slowly it was almost like you could feel their path burning on your skin. The sun had already set and a warm breeze was wafting all around you, carrying the scent of hot soil, food and the distinct scent of the city.

“You´ll see” Simon murmured into his cloth before lifting his hand and gently touched your cheek. He looked like he was in some sort of trance. His posture was relaxed, his eyes attentive and staring into your soul. It wasn’t like you were any better off. The whole situation was written straight out of a romance novel and the main characters were about to share their first kiss. Even though it was already dark, the lights of the city were still bright enough to see how his breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling in deeper breaths.

A high pitched tone cut the thick air and you saw how Simon momentarily froze before both of you looked over to the skyline of London. Not a second later with a huge bang, a display of beautiful golden flecks decorated the nights sky.

You grinned ear to ear as the fireworks really started and several explosions of light colored your face in green, red and gold. “I love fireworks” you breathed and looked over to Simon with a thankful look in your eyes. He was already looking at you. He stayed seated where he was when you´d moved to see the fireworks better so he was still quite close. His arm was brushing yours when he looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“I´m glad” he said almost too quietly.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or the fact that this man made you feel at ease, lighthearted and without a worry in the world. You couldn’t remember. You just let your head fall onto his shoulder, looking at the firework in front of you and smiling contently.

Simon´s POV

Simon didn’t dare move. The soft skin of your hand slightly brushing his was enough to make him lose his damn mind. Almost. The first firework had startled him but the way the golden light had illuminated your face and the smile you´d given him had made him forget almost everything.

The moment he saw you he knew that he wanted something special with you. You didn´t mind his mask, respected it even. That was something new he had never experienced with a civilian before. You´d managed to sneak into his life and heart so quickly and with such force it worried him a little bit. Any day now he could get called back to base again. Maybe he needed to speed it along a little?

No. Not with you. You didn’t deserve that. He´d let you know if he had to leave again and just take his chances. For the first time he wanted a kiss more than a night of passionate sex to get the edge off. He could take his own edge off, god knows he had to do it in the barracks often enough.

Your whole being however made him yearn for something that went deeper than that. A hug would be worth more than undressing, a kiss worth more than foreplay.

He took a deep breath without moving his shoulder too much, just letting himself fall into the moment. Watching fireworks, having your head lean on him, his fingers playfully chasing yours.

___ POV

By the end of the fireworks you felt like you were floating. Simons fingers were tangles with yours by this point and it felt so delicate and new, you felt like a teenager again. Your heart was doing summersaults in your chest. Thinking about this evening would end eventually made your heart sink.

The last colorful explosion brightened up the sky and you let out a deep sigh. “That was beautiful” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“You´re very welcome” Simon rumbled, locking his picky with yours. You were glad at this point that your position hid your huge grin. Now that the fireworks were over, the alcohol, food and late hour caught up with you. The small yawn you tried to stifle wasn’t lost on him however and he sighed contently. “Come on. I´ll bring you home.”

He stood up and held out his hand which you took immediately. As if you weight nothing he pulled you upright holding your gaze and your hand for several moments longer.

You helped him gather everything before you made your way back to your apartment complex. He didn’t try to take your hand again which made you wonder a little bit. The both of you talked about anything and everything until you were standing in front of your door.

“That was a lot of fun” you said as you turned to him and smiled. You saw how his cheeks lifted again as he nodded. “It was. I´m glad you liked the fireworks.”

“I did” you said. “How did you know there were going to be fireworks tonight?” Simon shrugged comically. “That´s my little secret.”

You giggled. The awkward silence you were afraid was going to come at any second now, did not come. Simon yet again proved that he was a man of action and the direct approach.

“I´d really like to do that again.”

You nodded immediately, feeling heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, me too.”

“Great” he said happily before stepping closer. He took hold of your hand and lifted it to his face. Without breaking eye contact he waited for the fraction of a second for your reaction. When he saw your almost pleading eyes his clothed mouth came down on the back of your hand, kissing it.

Your knees got week and yet again grew heavy with longing. The breath was propelled from your lungs by the way he did it so gently and sincere.

The soft material of his mask was slightly damp from his breath but you couldn’t care less. He was kissing your skin. His mouth was on you. Cloth or no cloth it made you vision blurr.

Simon let go of your hand after what felt like an eternity.

“Sleep well, darlin´” he muttered almost carefully as if the pet name could somehow be a deal breaker for you.

It wasn’t. On the contrary. You felt like your legs were about to give out.

“You too, Simon” you smiled at him dreamily. Reluctantly you turned around and fumbled for your keys. You opened your door and took another peek to your right in his direction.

He´d done the same thing. Pushing his door open he gave you that juvenile little wave again before disappearing from your sight. Sighing deeply as soon as your door closed behind you, this time you didn’t make it to the couch. Your knees gave out then and there and with the silliest of smiles you glided down your door. Your trusty little toy would have to work overtime until the next time you´d be able to drown in those hazel depths again.

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Again, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it <3

Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

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foundress0fnothing · 10 months

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Summary: Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

~5.3k words, rated E (explicit)

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

This is just PWP, so be warned (and enjoy)!

Written for @elucienweekofficial Day 7: AU.

Title from “Project for a Fainting” by Brenda Shaughnessy (I’m currently obsessed with this poem and it’s a banger and you should definitely read it).

Lucien POV

“What the fuck kind of bar is this?”

Lucien stared incredulously at the scene unfolding before his eyes. The room itself—what he could see of it, anyway—was innocuous enough. It looked the part of an upscale bar: dark wood furniture and walls painted a blue so deep they were almost black, softened by warm light spilling from lamps scattered throughout and low, plush couches in jewel tones that lined the outer perimeter of the room. There was greenery everywhere—ivy climbing the walls, monsteras arching out of pots in the corners of the room, philodendrons dripping off of the bar that was tucked into the back corner of the room. Music, something pulsing and rhythmic, played in the background, not quite loud enough to distinguish words or melody.

And the scent of the space—a heady mix of jasmine and honey that Lucien could feel twist around him as he stood on the threshold, inviting him to step inside, to linger, to lose himself in the promise of the evening.

But he resisted that pull, tempting as it was, instead standing frozen at the sight of the bar’s clientele. They gathered in groups of two or three or four, most draped intimately across each other, touching and fondling and teasing their partners, not caring who might see in the public space. They were all in various states of undress as well, some wearing regular street clothes that were haphazardly hanging off their bodies after one of their partners’ ministrations, some wearing what Lucien could only imagine was niche fetish wear.

Tearing his gaze away from what he was pretty sure was seconds from descending into a full orgy, he turned to look at Vassa and Jurian who stood a few paces behind him, “I’ll ask again,” he said, flicking his eyes between the two of them. Only Vassa had the grace to look slightly apologetic. “What the fuck kind of bar is this?”

“Their drinks are really good,” Vassa started, but Lucien cut her off.

“That’s not what I asked, Vas.”

“It’s what got Jurian in the door at least.”

Jurian offered a lazy grin. “And who wouldn’t want to stay for the rest?”

Lucien glared at him.

“And we figured,” Vassa continued, drawing his attention back to her, “that after Jes and everything, it might be good. For you.”

“It might be good for me?” Lucien raised an eyebrow skeptically, even if, on some level, he could see the appeal of a night of debauchery, of throwing himself into the throng of bodies and free-flowing booze. And it’s not like Vassa was wrong about Jes. Lucien had been ready to propose, had even picked out a ring, until she unceremoniously dumped him a month ago, deciding that she was looking for something different, something—how had she said it?—“more interesting.”

And he had been wallowing in that loss ever since. He didn’t go out anymore, didn’t reach out to friends, instead moving between work and his apartment and ghosting anyone who tried reaching out. For good reason apparently, he thought to himself, daring another glance into the room where he saw a short woman wearing only a bustier and sheer tights plant herself in the lap of a man wearing an identical outfit.

Vassa clarified, drawing his attention away from his efforts to make sense of the dynamics of that relationship. “You know—to meet someone new.”

“And,” Jurian added, “you’ve fucking sucked this last month. So. This is for us too.”

Lucien flipped him off. “Thanks, asshole.” He paused. “Look, guys, I appreciate what you’re trying to do—”

“Good.” Vassa grinned devilishly. “So stay.”

“But.” He gestured vaguely into the room, trying not to let his gaze linger for too long on any single thing. People notwithstanding, the room itself seemed determined to draw him in, the light and the music and the perfume and the heat all conspiring to make him take that first step over the threshold and find something—someone.

He shook it off. “I don’t think your little…club, or bar, or whatever it is, is really gonna fix the Jes thing.”

“It’s not just a club though,” Vassa argued.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“It’s—oh, what’d they say our first day here, Jurian? When we joined? ‘A place to get in touch with both the mental and physical self, and to meet others on similar journeys of self-discovery.’ She parroted the phrase, and Jurian nodded.

Lucien looked at them incredulously, waiting for one of them to burst out laughing, to tell him it was all a prank and that they put out some sketchy ad on Craigslist to cheer him up. When neither did, he clarified. “So…it’s a cult.”

“Cult is such a strong word, Lucien,” Vassa said with a frown.

“Yeah, but is it the right word though?” Not a prank then, he thought to himself, bewildered by the fact that his friends were apparently participating members. In a cult. In this cult.

“Lighten up, Lucien,” Jurian said, rolling his eyes. “Get a drink. See if anybody catches your eye.”

Lucien laughed in disbelief. “I’m not about to join your sex cult, assholes.”

Both of them ignored his protestations, giving him a slight shove and pushing him further into the room. He could feel its pull even more strongly now, teasing and promising, and wondered for a moment how bad it could be if he just spent one night here.

“No one’s going to make you join, Lucien. It’s not that kind of group.” Vassa smiled over his shoulder at someone she recognized, holding up a finger to let whoever it was know that she was on her way over.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, super glad you didn’t bring me to the join-or-die kind of sex cult.”

“Besides,” she continued. “The head gets to make the final call about members anyway.”

“The head?” He repeated. “Sorry—are you telling me there’s an application for the sex cult?”

Vassa winked at him. “It’s a very thorough review.”

Lucien snorted, imagining it must be. He looked around the room again, trying to guess who the head of a group like this might be. Not that he was about to join. But, as he ran his eyes over the people in the room, no one stood out to him as an obvious leader—they all touched and groped and moved between each other with apparently little regard for hierarchies or rules.

Vassa put a hand on his arm. “Stay for a drink at least. They are actually really good.” With that, she released Lucien and grabbed Jurian’s hand, pulling him into the room and aiming for a hideous pink couch where a beautiful woman with long black hair sat waiting for them.

Not wanting to linger awkwardly at the front of the room, Lucien began moving toward the bar, letting the atmosphere envelop him and guide him through whatever this night was about to be.

Everything felt more somehow, as if each step forward was turning a dial up tick by tick. The lights were warmer, the music more thrilling, the perfume more heady—and Lucien took it all in, giving himself over, at least slightly, to the magic of the room and the eroticism it promised.

He had done this—well, something like it—before Jes. He could do it again. And a drink would help.

“What’ll it be, handsome?”

Lucien glanced up at the voice coming from behind the bar, honey-smooth and sweet, only to lose himself in the beauty of the woman to whom it belonged. She had wide brown eyes the color of chestnuts and golden brown hair that framed her face with soft waves that stretched halfway down her back. And her dress—Lucien felt his mouth gape slightly as he took in the tight green satin bodice lined with lace that softened into something more loosely flowing as it hit her hips.

She was easily the most stunning woman Lucien had ever seen, and he felt any lingering irritation with Vassa and Jurian bleed away.

“So—are you going to order something?” The woman was still smiling up at him, although something mischievous danced in her eyes, clearly pleased by his reaction.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the menu written in neat script behind the bar and willing himself to focus on anything but the sensual curve of her lips. Each drink was artisanal, the ingredient lists long and propriety and brimming with herbs and berries in addition to the liquor. One glance at the bottles lining the wall told him that his usual bar drinks—an old fashioned or a scotch and soda—would be out of place here, would mark him even more as an outsider to the little world of this bar that he was increasingly interested in the longer he spent in the presence of the pretty bartender.

“I’ll have a Like the Fox.” It was gin and orgeat and falernum, tempered with berries and lime and bitters—and hopefully a suitably impressive order.

The bartender beamed up at him. “That’s what I would have chosen for you too.” She started to gather bottles in front of her.

“But,” Lucien said, leaning slightly over the bar. “I’ll only have it on one condition.”

She huffed a laugh. “And what’s that?”

Giving her what Vassa and Jurian called his ‘panty-dropping grin,’ he said, “If you have a drink with me.”

She held his gaze for a moment and then deliberately began looking him over, taking in every detail from the bright red hair he had gathered in a loose bun to the scar bisecting his eye from a failed biking stunt as a kid to the way his wine-red dress shirt hugged his chest. And then her gaze moved lower. He stood still, not wanting to fidget under her scrutiny. Everywhere her eyes landed burned, and Lucien found himself basking in that burn, the painful pleasure of it like midday August sunlight—longed for and too much and slightly sweet, all at once.

He watched as the bartender flicked her eyes back to his from where they had been lingering on the long line of his legs as if she could somehow see what was hidden underneath the gray slacks. He almost hoped she could.

And then she winked, grabbing a rocks glass and placing it alongside the coupe for his drink.

Lucien grinned, pleased that she was willing to play along. “And what is my drinking companion’s drink of choice?”

Reaching for its ingredients—whiskey, berries, honey, sage—she grinned right back. “Resist the Temptation.”

Elain POV

Elain had seen him the moment he stood on her doorway with Vassa and Jurian. Lucien Vanserra, Vassa had told her: tall, with rich brown skin and vibrant red hair and a scar across his left eye. He was dressed well, his clothes expensive and tailored to fit his broad frame, and he held himself with an ease that belied how uncomfortable he must have been at his first sight of her club.

She could kiss Vassa—and maybe she would later—for bringing him. Late one evening last weekend, spent and sweaty and draped over the pink couch that Vassa and Jurian seemed inordinately fond of, Elain lamented how bored she was, how familiar everyone and everything was, how she wanted something new.

And Vassa had smiled as she ran her fingers idly through Elain’s hair, a fire lighting in her eyes when she promised that she had the perfect something new in mind.

Looking up at Lucien now as she mixed their drinks, Elain suspected that Vassa had been right.

Not wanting the silence to stretch too long between them, she said, “I should have made you guess my drink.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “Yes,” she said, humming slightly. “I would have found it terribly impressive.” Elain tossed her hair primly over her shoulder, smiling to herself as she watched how Lucien’s eyes glazed over slightly as they tracked the movement of the honey brown waves. “You’ll just have to find another way to impress me then, Fox,” she said, placing his drink down in front of him.

Blinking rapidly as he came back to himself, he picked up the glass and hit her again with one of the rakish smiles that she imagined got him anything he wanted. “And why do I get the sense you’re not easily impressed?”

He was right. She had been easily impressed once, had almost married a man straight out of college who listened to alt-right podcasts in his parents’ basement and refused to get a job, all because he had a sweet smile and told her he loved her. But he didn’t like that she didn’t want kids right away, that she wanted to travel first or open her own business, and he dumped her, expecting her to come crawling back. She didn’t.

No—instead, Elain mourned the loss of the relationship for exactly twenty-four hours before packing up and setting off on a backpacking trip around the world, eating good food and meeting new people and learning what it was she liked. And she found she liked people. And love—but not exclusivity. So when she got back, she opened the Larkspur Room, named after a flower that could mean both strong love and fickleness, and slowly began to gather its members. They came from all backgrounds, from all walks of life, but they were hers, and she was theirs. And she liked it.

But he didn’t need to know all of that. Not yet, at any rate. So she only smiled, letting a hint of mockery bleed into the expression. “Are you not up for it?”

“Are you?” He raised his glass to her in cheers, and then, holding her gaze, took a long, slow sip.

Elain watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Yes, she definitely owed Vassa. He would do very nicely. Even if he was far too cocky—that could be fixed.

She held out her hand. “I’m Elain.”

“Elain.” He repeated her name as he took her hand, shaking it once. He didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away, savoring the feeling of his hand, large and warm and sure.

“And you?” She asked, even though she already knew, before raising her own glass to her lips with the hand not currently bound up in Lucien’s.

“Lucien.”

“You came in with Vassa and Jurian?” Lucien nodded in confirmation, following her gaze to find the pair locked in an embrace with Nuan, one of their usual partners if Elain was busy. And sometimes if she wasn’t.

He glanced back at her, flushing slightly. “Old friends. They…left out a few key details about this bar.”

Elain laughed at that. “Based on your blush, I imagine they did.”

Lucien bristled. “I don’t blush.”

“You don’t?” She challenged, turning her laughter on him. “The pink on your cheeks is just a trick of the light?” Setting her drink down, she reached up with her free hand to trace the side of his face.

He started slightly but didn’t move away, instead leaning into the contact. “I’m used to a little more privacy when I take my lovers to bed.”

Lucien’s voice was low and full of promise, and Elain smiled to herself, feeling her own heart rate pick up ever so slightly.

“What if I could offer you some privacy?”

“Well then, Elain,” he said, releasing her hand and winding his fingers through her hair and pulling it ever so slightly to tilt her face up to look at his. “Then I could show you all the things I’d like to do with you.”

She bit her lip and watched as his eyes tracked the movement. Good. “There’s a room in the back.”

“Lead the way,” he said, releasing his grip on her hair and polishing off the rest of his drink.

As she moved out from behind the bar, she surveyed the room, taking in the groups milling around, chattering and embracing. Nothing had really started yet, despite Lucien’s reactions, and it wouldn’t��not until she gave the word anyway.

As she walked over to his side, having to crane her neck slightly to meet his eyes, she asked, “They really didn’t tell you anything, did they?”

“Is there more I need to know?” He had drawn close, and she breathed in the spicy smell of his cologne, a mix of apples and woodsmoke and bergamot that reminded her of crisp fall days.

Elain smirked but didn’t answer him, instead turning out to the larger room to address her friends, her partners, her family. “Have fun tonight, all.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the groups of people stopped their idle touching and fondling and teasing and began to reach for each other with an urgency and a desire that Elain felt rush through her and settle in her core.

“Come, Lucien,” she said, turning around and walking down the hall to her office. He followed after as if in a daze.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” Lucien asked as he stepped into the room after her and closed the door. She didn’t use it for this often, but it would do—amongst the desk and the papers sat a low bed, framed by diaphanous lilac curtains and fairy lights that softened the administrative air the room would have otherwise carried.

Elain hummed contentedly. “For a few years now.”

“You run the sex cult.” He said it as a statement, not a question.

“I run the Larkspur Room. That’s the actual name. Not “the sex cult.” And it’s more a place for personal journeys and self-discovery anyway. Sex is just part of it.” She walked over to Lucien but didn’t reach out, didn’t restart her seduction. The next step was his to take.

“Yes, so Vassa told me,” he muttered, looking around the office.

“You disagree?”

He shifted his attention back to her. “A fancy motto doesn’t make it any less of a sex cult.”

“Are you complaining?” Elain could argue the semantics of the word cult with him later. After. Assuming he stayed.

He gently gripped her chin between his finger and his thumb, titling her face up and ghosting his thumb over her lips. “No. Not right now.”

“Good.” She smiled up at him. Time for something new.

He leaned down as if to kiss her but then stopped himself, pulling back slightly. “What does this mean? If we…”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it was clear he wasn’t about to, she rolled her eyes. Still hung up on the cult thing. “It can be nothing more than a night if that’s what you want, Lucien.” Disappointing as that would be. Her chin was still caught in his hands, giving her the perfect view of the effect that her saying his name had on him.

“And if I want more?” Slowly, still looking at her face, he began to run his hands down the sides of her body, rubbing teasing circles into her ribs, her hips.

“Then consider tonight your application for membership.”

“Into the cult?”

She looked at him disapprovingly. “Into the Larkspur Room. You could at least try to say the name.”

“And you’ll decide?”

“Who else?”

Lucien laughed sharply at that. “Vassa said it was a thorough review process. I assumed…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the door and the bodies thronging outside.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Why, Lucien, perhaps you’re more adventurous than I thought. But,” she continued, seeing from his scowl that he was about to start arguing about logistics and throwing around the phrase “sex cult” again, “I don’t share on the first night.” She began tracing her hands across the muscles of his chest before slowly reaching up to pull loose his hair tie, allowing the crimson waves—almost as long as hers, she noted—to messily frame his face. “Is that acceptable to you?”

He nodded, running a hand through his now loose hair, and asked, “What’s so thorough about this review, then Elain?”

She liked the way he said her name. It was as if he was offering up a quiet prayer, like she was something to revere, something to cherish. “It’s a test. All you have to do,” she said, “is make me come three times.”

He raised an eyebrow, so she clarified.

“Once on your fingers,” she listed, drawing his hand to her mouth and holding his gaze as she delicately sucked two of his fingers into her mouth, watching as his nostrils flared.

“Once on your tongue,” she continued, releasing his fingers and leaning in so she could lick up the broad column of his neck.

“And once on your cock.” Still kissing his neck, she ghosted her hand down until she could grip him through his pants, delighting in the groan he let out. He was already hard and, she noted with an involuntary whimper, impressively long.

Releasing him and stepping away, she smiled in challenge. “Do you think you can manage?”

“Perhaps.” He grinned back at her as he answered, cockily adding, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Elain huffed a laugh. “We’ll see.” But she hoped he was right. “Questions?”

“One,” he said as he started to unbutton his shirt, allowing her glimpses of his sculpted chest as the two sides slowly parted. “What does membership into your ‘Larkspur Room’ get me?”

Her mouth opened in shock. “Greedy already?”

“I just want to know if the effort is worth it.” His smug smile at the way her eyes kept catching on the planes of his chest was infuriating.

The fucking nerve of him. But Elain had an idea, smiling wickedly as she sank to her knees and said, looking up at him as she unbuttoned his pants, “You tell me.”

Lucien POV

Lucien was fucked. And probably about to join a sex cult.

Because if the way Elain was sucking him was any indication of how the rest of the night would go, he realized that he would do anything, would say anything, would join anything just to have another moment like this with her. He would worship at whatever altar she offered if it meant that she would invite him back to her bed.

Her mouth was impossibly soft and wet, and Lucien groaned at each new pass, willing his body to slow down, to let his mind catch up, to savor the experience.

But it—and Elain—had other plans, and he looked down to see the glint in her eyes as, without warning, she stopped the rhythmic bobbing of her head only to swallow him whole, the tip of her nose brushing against his stomach.

“Fuck, Elain—” he gasped out as his hips stuttered forward and she made a small choking sound at the force of the intrusion. She didn’t stop, although she glared up at him, only widening her mouth and relaxing her throat to allow him more space.

Wrapping fistfuls of her hair around his hands, Lucien began slowly thrusting, fucking her mouth as she braced herself against his thighs, still covered by his gray slacks. He laughed half-deliriously at the realization that he hadn’t even gotten fully undressed, although his laughter quickly turned into a moan, embarrassingly loud and desperate, as she hollowed out her cheeks.

He was going to come embarrassingly quickly, could feel his rhythm start to falter and his balls tighten and then—

It all stopped. Dazed and pleasure-drunk, Lucien looked down to see Elain pull away from his cock, wiping at her lips delicately.

“That,” she said, slightly out of breath, “is one of the things membership in my ‘sex cult’ gets you.” She gave a bratty tilt of her head. “Worth it?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grabbing Elain’s face in his hands and kissing her. His cock screamed at him, begging for release, but he ignored it in favor of continuing to pepper Elain’s lips with kisses. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m—yes. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.” He couldn’t lose this, couldn’t lose her.

She rewarded him with a smile. “I am. And now,” she reached between them, once again taking his cock in her hands, and Lucien gasped at her touch, overly-sensitive, the sensation almost enough to send him over the edge. “We’ll see if you are, Lucien.”

“Elain, I—”

“—have work to do. Because if you finish before you’ve completed your test,” she said, false sympathy in her voice as she continued to slide her hand absently up and down his cock, “I’m afraid you won’t be invited back.”

“Then stop that,” he said, reaching to still her movements, hoping that a reprieve from her maddening touch would give him a chance to get himself under control, to regain some kind of upper hand in this exchange.

“I was just answering your question.” She widened her eyes and blinked at him in false innocence.

He laughed at her performance, reaching behind her as he did so to find the zipper on her dress and tugging it down. “I’m not fooled by your act, Elain. In fact,” he said as the dress slipped off her frame and pooled at her feet, revealing the light green lingerie set she wore underneath. “I think you might just be a brat.”

She reached out for his clothes as well, rapidly undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt as he kicked off his pants and tucked himself back into his underwear. “Let’s hope you get to test that theory in the future, shall we?”

They stood there staring at each other. If Lucien thought Elain was stunning in her dress, it was nothing compared to how she looked now: still slightly flushed from her exertions before, her nipples hard and visible through her bra as she waited for him to make the next move.

“Oh, Elain,” Lucien said, stepping forward to close the distance between them, “that is a privilege I can’t wait to earn.”

And then he kissed her, hard and demanding. He felt her smile against his lips as she arched into him, and he slid his hands up her body to unhook the clasps of her bra, groaning into her mouth as he cupped her tits. “Fuck, Elain.”

“That’s the hope, Lucien.” Breaking the kiss, she shucked off her underwear and walked over to sit on the bed, leaning back slightly to give him a view of her cunt, bare and gleaming. “So what are you waiting for?”

“Brat,” he said, just to say something. Not that it had any bite—he had no control here apparently, no smooth words left, no final tricks, nothing but a desperate desire to see her head thrown back in pleasure, to hear her call his name, to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but this.

“Like what you see?”

He hummed appreciatively, mesmerized at the sight of her spread out like a feast before him. With a reverence that surprised even him, he asked, “Are you wet for me, Elain?”

“Come find out.”

Lucien followed her over the bed and knelt down in front of her, gently dragging a finger through the clear evidence of her arousal. He groaned at the wetness he found there as she arched into his touch. “Elain.”

And with her name on his lips, he began to circle her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves as he felt her begin to writhe against him. “That’s it, beautiful.” He kissed up her neck, sliding his finger lower and into her, pumping in and out.

“More, Lucien. I need more—” she gasped out, and he redoubled his efforts, sliding another finger into her and feeling her clench around him.

“Lucien, I—”

“Are you going to come for me?” He sucked a kiss into her neck, and her moan was like the sweetest music. “Come for me, Elain.”

And she did, clamping down on his hand so hard he swore he could feel it on his cock as she shattered, and he rode her through wave after wave of her climax. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, and nothing he had ever seen could match the sight of her like this.

And he wanted—needed—to see it again. Lucien slid down her body and plunged his tongue into her cunt as her walls continued to pulse around him. Elain moaned at the invasion, still sensitive from her first orgasm, but didn’t pull away, and he groaned at the taste of her, somehow musky and floral and sweet all at once.

He devoured her like a man starved, wet and messy and wildly lost in her. Elain, for her part, thrust her hands through his hair, wrapping it around her fist and using her hold to grind herself against his face, chasing her pleasure. Before long, Lucien could feel her start to tighten again, her climax rising higher and higher until it crested and she followed it over the peak, arching her back and crying out loudly enough that he was positive that everyone in the other room knew exactly what the two of them were doing.

She panted as she came down, blearily lolling her head against the pillow as she rode the aftershocks of her second orgasm. Her hair was messily haloed around her head, and Lucien, pleased with himself, dragged his hand through the tangled silken waves.

She turned to look at him. “Are you done, Lucien?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he looked at her skeptically. “Can you take one more, Elain?”

“Yes, Lucien. Of course.” she breathed out, throwing him a look that was probably meant to be scathing but only came across as pleasantly sated, her eyes lust-drunk. “Make me come on your cock.”

She reached out a hand to the table next to her bed, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a condom that she handed to him. Lucien pulled off his underwear and unwrapped the condom, rolling it over his length and he pumped himself once, twice to the sight of Elain, still naked and breathless beneath him.

He looked at her and she nodded, and without needing any more encouragement, he plunged into her. She was dripping wet and tight and hot, and Lucien groaned at the sensation.

“Christ, Elain,” he moaned, his hips snapping forward as he thrust in and out of her perfect cunt. “So fucking perfect. You are—”

She finished the sentence for him. “Mine, Lucien. You are mine.”

“Yours. I’m yours.” She was a dream, lurid and perfect, something he wanted every day for the rest of his life. He felt his pace stutter at the thought. “I’m not going to last long, Elain.”

She smiled up at him. “Then make it count.”

He drove deeper and deeper into her, reaching between them to find her clit and rolling it over with his fingers until he could feel her breathing hitch, her walls tighten.

“One more time, Elain. Come for me. Let me be yours.”

And for the final time, she shattered against him, and he let the strength of her climax carry him along with it as he came with a shout.

Spent and panting, he rolled off the condom and threw it away, turning to gather Elain into his arms and close to his chest. For now, nothing else mattered—only him and Elain and the absolute bliss of the moment.

She nuzzled into him and smiled. “Welcome to the Larkspur Room, Lucien.”

“Honored to be a member.”

“Want to tell your friends?” She asked sleepily.

“Later.” He gently kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, letting the room—the warm lights, the soft pulse of the music from outside that he could just make out, the sweet smell of jasmine and honey—lull him to sleep.

#elucien #elucienweek2023 #elucienweek #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fanfiction #elucien fic

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rainbowsky · 2 years

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Perspectives on the Mystery Man

In reference to this previous post, here are a few more things to consider...

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

I asked someone familiar with the equipment they are seated by, and they told me that they are racks of wireless microphone receivers, and the only time anyone would be interacting with those racks is when they're setting the mics up. They don't require any sort of regular monitoring.

Which is exactly what it looks like. None of the three sitting there are doing anything. They don't even look at the gear.

And it's very 👀👀👀 that someone who happens to look like GG, dress like GG, wear glasses like GG, laugh and do other gestures like GG's, have uncannily similar features, hairline, skin tone and ear shape as GG... just happens to show up in the background of a SDOC3 shoot, as a bystander who is there for no apparent productive reason, never once showing his face.

I'm going to stop short of saying it's GG because we can't verify it 100%, but it is definitely a strange 'coincidence'.

For those of you who remember, GG did a similar thing when he was on Produce 101. He posed as a photographer and went into the room where the contestants were and started taking pictures and acting like a photographer and he had a fake name and everything.

The girls figured it out, I'm sure in part because the crew were not acting normal and I think they kind of outed his disguise, but it does show that he is up for that kind of fooling around, and he seemed to really enjoy it.

As I said in the notes for this post, Huang Bo, GG and DD, and the producer of SDOC are all known pranksters, this is a segment specifically devoted to pranking. It's not that much of a stretch to imagine that this was just a bit of clownery on their part. A way to put GG in a little cameo for the show without anyone knowing.

It's no different, really, than GG leaving DD's name in his Qingdao snacks video, or putting little candies in his ideal life painting or in other drawings, or the heart mole, or DD making all of his Nike posts about GG. If we believe that those things are genuine candies, then I don't really think it's a stretch at all think that this might have actually been a planned prank.

But it's completely crazy as well, to think they'd engineer a secret GG cameo for SDOC3. But I guess if he was visiting DD on set it would be a lot more fun to wait in the shot for him to be done filming than to sit in some back room. 😅

Of course it's all 🤡 and we don't know for sure and probably never will, but it is a fun one, and a bit of a weird mystery.

Edit: more here.

#the mysteries of yizhan #🤡🚙#sdoc3 #🤡 in the twilight zone #dd drops candies gg drops bombs

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enchantedchocolatebars · 4 months

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Gorillaz Teacher! AU Headcanons

🍎 Original headcanons ✏️

🏫 Ao3 version 🎒

Murdoc:

• Wait, how did he even get this job and why hasn't he been fired yet?

• Teaching is honestly just a shitty day job for him. Once he earns enough, he's quitting to become a famous rock star with his own band! He could see it now: fame, glory, girls. It sounds like a dream come true. But until he had the money to make that dream a reality, he was stuck as the school's social studies teacher.

• When he quits his job as an "educator", it's going to be very similar to the fuck you scene from the movie "Half Baked".

• He is disliked by the students in all of his classes.

• He has a habit of arriving 30 minutes late to class. Sometimes he'll show up completely sober, while other times he'll show up drunk.

• The pickle has WAY too many political views that he refuses to keep to himself.

• If Murdoc falls asleep at his desk, one of the kids might try to either draw a dick on his forehead and take a picture of it, or they might try to put a 'kick me' sign on his back. But they have to be EXTRA careful or they might wake up the grumpy goblin!

• If he does wake up, he'll be extremely mad and end up giving the whole class a pop quiz first thing tomorrow morning.

• He finds grading papers to be too difficult, so he doesn't bother doing it.

• The only time Murdoc actually teaches his class something about social studies is when the principal or some other important staff member walks into the room to see what's going on. Once they're gone, he goes straight back to sleep.

• He believes that Stuart Pot, the new music teacher at school, is an idiot. He decides to give him the nickname '2D' because he feels that the man is too dense. Murdoc has walked by Stuart's classroom a couple of times before and has overheard him and his students singing while he plays the piano. To hear more, he would usually place his ear against the door. He had to admit that the guy had some really nice vocals. Plus, he's tall, pretty, has blue hair, and both eyes! Murdoc makes a mental note to remember to make that Stu-Pot guy the front man of his future band once he gets the money he wants and decides to quit.

• Murdoc only tries to 'befriend" 2D because he's a music teacher and also because he wants him to be his future front man.

• When he learns that the teacher of the class with the highest test scores will receive a large bonus pay, he decides to change his style of "teaching", forcing the students in his class to study intensely for the upcoming test. However, the kids end up getting low scores.

• He has been embezzling money from the 9th grade bake sale.

2D/Stuart Pot:

• He is the new music teacher!

• He quickly becomes well-liked by students and co-workers.

• Stuart is a nice teacher who carries himself off as a goofy professional who knows what he's doing.

• Believes that every one of his students will become a great musician one day.

• At times, he enjoys teaching while music plays in the background.

• He may accidentally give students test answers when they ask for clarification on a question

• He will write original songs for his class to perform.

• Has an after-school club where he teaches students how to play piano, keyboards, and melodica.

• I can imagine him being an actual teacher in real life.

• Stuart is a bit terrified of Murdoc because one time, when the two were on lunch duty together, Murdoc was explaining to him a dream that he had last night where he launched his car through a music shop that Stu-Pot was apparently working at and had knocked one of his eyes out! “ Oh, uh, o-okay… W-Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t actually going to run me over with a real car, right?…RIGHT?!”

Noodle:

• She has a full real name, but prefers to be referred to as Noodle, which was a nickname she received in her childhood.

• The children generally call her Ms. Noodle.

• She's the teaching assistant for Stuart's class!

• She's kind because she helps everyone in the class who needs it, even the spoiled kids.

• She's in charge of the guitar club after-school!

• She really likes the guitar club since it provides a safe and fun environment for students to come together and enjoy music.

• She's a master at playing acoustic guitar and ukulele!

• You'll most likely find her in the teacher's lounge playing on her pink handheld game player while drinking tea and munching on the candy and snacks that they have in there.

• The teacher's lounge is her favorite room to be in for obvious reasons.

Russel:

• He's a no-nonsense math teacher who will joke around with his students from time to time, but then gets very serious with them when it comes to their grades.

• Mr. Hobbs is skilled at making math fun with a capital F!

• They didn’t do so well on a test? Not a problem! Russel will happily allow a student to retake it, as long as they go home and study.

• He will greet each student by their name when they enter his class.

• Russel has a general concern for his students and desires the best for all of them.

• His students can count on him being genuine

• Will bring treats for the class if they did really well on a quiz or test!

• Allows his students to use their phones once they have finished all their work.

• When his students throw him a surprise party in the classroom on his birthday, he breaks down in happy tears.

• Murdoc's classroom is situated across the hall from his own.

• Russel doesn't know why, but he feels that Mr. Niccals is teaching for all the wrong reasons.

• He really doesn't think Murdoc should be teaching teenagers, or really anyone. Russel couldn't think of anyone less qualified to be a teacher.

• Whenever he's in the teacher's lounge, he likes socializing with other teachers like 2D or Noodle, but never with Murdoc. Russel tries to avoid him.

#gorillaz #murdoc niccals #gorillaz 2d #2d gorillaz #gorillaz noodle #noodle gorillaz #russel hobbs #ao3 #a03 #ao3 link #a03 link #ao3 writer #a03 writer #headcanon #headcanons #writing #my writing

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washipink · 1 year

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The Rain Review (Finale)

If you’ve been with my blog for the past week or so, You’ll know I’ve been reading a childhood favorite webcomic of mine, Rain by Jocelyn Samara. And you’d probably be wondering what happened to my review of the comic Year-by-Year. The answer? I went on a road trip for a few days and couldn’t help but read the whole rest of the comic. So today I’m here to talk about my overall thoughts.

For the uninitiated, Rain is a slice-of-life webcomic that started in 2010. It’s about a transgender teenage girl of the same name navigating her senior year at a Catholic high school. There’s a LOT of romantic and gender-related drama. Friends are made and lost. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll see yourself in the characters somewhere along the line.

My experience with Rain prior to this project only goes up to about 2014. I started reading it in middle school on Smackjeeves.com. Y’all remember Smackjeeves? I miss it every day. Apparently it redirects to a shitty webtoon clone now. IDK where I’m gonna find peoples’ sprite comics produced in 2013 now.

Anyway, I bring this up to say that I had stopped keeping up with Rain even though she was a major part of me accepting who I was. When I found out that her story had come to a close, I had a real need to find out how.

This time, there won’t be a plot summary because this comic ran for 11 years and it takes me long enough to do just 1. That and, if I may spoil my final opinion, I really want you to give it a read for yourself.

ART

I want to get this one out of the way because it’s a very common critique that even I hold to some extent. The art in Rain is a clear indicator of the era its artist hails from. In 2010, anime and manga had just hit the American mainstream. Everyone was reading those “How to Draw Anime” books and took a lot of notes from them. To showcase, here’s a page from Chapter 1, the first color page in fact.

This page is actually one of the busier pages in terms of art. Jocelyn doesn’t usually do background details much, if at all. Usually, backgrounds are depicted as solid colors that are associated with specific locations. Grey for the apartment, sky blue for outside, light green for school, etc. But the way Rain is drawn here bears a striking resemblance to the styles a LOT of people were using at the time.

While Jocelyn’s style stays rooted in, shall we say, American who got really into anime, her techniques evolve over time. Especially in terms of displaying what’s going on with limited background detail.

As an example, I really enjoy this scene. Rain and Emily are, in universe, speaking over the phone right now. But neither of them are holding their phones to their ears. They’re looking at each other as if they’re in the same room. Jocelyn uses a gradient background to signify that the two of them are NOT in the same room, but as they get closer during their conversation, they get physically closer in the panel as well.

This page is taken from 2014, about 4 years into the comic’s run. You can see that Jocelyn’s brush choices have changed. Everything is far smoother than it was toward the start. While the overall style is as simplistic as year 1, her technique has changed a lot.

That comfort with her work only continues to grow. Below is a panel from a bonus page that released after the comic’s conclusion. The line work is the cleanest its ever been.

STORY AND CHARACTERS

Now this right here is the REAL meat of the comic. Regardless of any feelings I had on the art, the characters really endeared me. And this being a slice-of-life teen drama, they had plenty of time to learn, grow, and clash against one another.

The majority of the conflict in Rain comes from people being set in their ways. Rain’s whole gaggle of queer friends is hiding from the school’s principal, who refuses to acknowledge that maybe there’s nothing wrong with being a little gay. One of the most compelling ongoing threads in the comic centers around Rain’s brother and sister trying to understand and accept her. These personal stakes were a really enjoyable break from the kind of thing I usually read. In Rain, there is no world to be saved or villain to defeat, but there IS a prom to go to. Sometimes, that’s all you need to tell a good story.

The comic has this small-town vibe I care for a lot. Sometimes, a character will exit another’s life and you’ll never expect to see them again. Then they’ll end up dating Rain’s aunt or something. Word spreads fast in Centerville. People are gossipy. Sometimes, you tell someone something and it reaches ears you didn’t want to hear it. That gossip is what makes things so dangerous for Rain. If the wrong person finds her out, then EVERYONE finds her out. The same goes for all her friends.

There’s all kinds of flavor of queer in this comic in a way that mirrors real life friend groups. We have a tendency to find each other like that.

With all kinds of queers being hormonal teens, things get messy FAST. There’s a lot of things that happen in this comic that I feel like baby gays need to see. There’s a point where a gay boy and a trans girl start going out because... this just happens sometimes. Nobody is “the villain” in this scenario. They both just tried to explore themselves and found mixed results.

That’s one of the big themes of Rain. Self-exploration. Every chapter, we’re learning more about these characters as they learn more about themselves. Nobody stays in the same headspace for too long. They’re constantly evolving.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Rain is ABSOLUTELY worth the read. It’s actually a really easy read. I was able to finish it in about 2 weeks, so I’m sure it won’t take up too much of your time. But, it’s a really heartwarming story that I’m sure a lot of us can relate to. Thanks for going on this journey with me. And be safe, Rain Beaus.

#Amy's Rain Review #Rain webcomic #Rain LGBT #Rain by Jocelyn Samara #Jocelyn Samara #lgbt webcomics

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alcamcat · 1 year

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Try this food

It's the brothers' first time eating at a restaurant. They choose a pizzeria.

-I don't own the game or the characters-

James:

He's prepared, of course he is. Even before they chose a restaurant, he dealt with how to behave in a restaurant, what he and his brothers can and can't do in order not to draw any attention to them. And he is pleasantly surprised. The chair is comfortable, they can all sit together at a table, and the conversations from the other tables are just loud enough for him to comfortably overhear to pick up more information about humans and their behavior. The fact that they are being served inevitably makes him think of the castle. Except that he actually has the choice of what he wants to eat here. And that his brothers (even Damien) get to sit at the table with him. He's previewed the menu, of course, but he's reading it in his mind so Damien can choose. He also keeps an eye on his brothers, James doesn't want them to misbehave.

He orders a shrimp pesto dish.

Erik:

A nice place. As he quietly looks around and takes in everything, he soon realizes that eating out is something he and his brothers should be doing more often. It's quite an experience! Almost all the tables in the room are occupied and Erik is once again amazed at how different people dress. Even when seated at a table together, people don't seem obligated to dress alike. He quickly gets the hang of which tables are being celebrated at and what other reason the visit is based on. He likes the background music and unconsciously tries to listen carefully to perhaps be able to recognize which instruments are being played. Of course, he helps James keep his brothers in check. Good behavior at the dining table is not a problem for him and the fact that he sits in such a way that the waitress occasionally accidentally brushes against him suits him very well. So, he gets two meals for the price of one. He completely ignores the evil eye of his older brother. After all, James would do the same if given the choice, wouldn't he?

He orders a Pizza with extra cheese.

Sam:

Hungry! Almost starved! These are his thoughts as he enters the restaurant behind his brothers and is led to their seat. It smells good, he has to admit, and the food he sees on the other tables makes his mouth water. He's not picky about food per se, but just being handed a card and apparently expected to read it, makes him wince. Of course, he doesn't show his discomfort, but do people really assume that he can read? And even worse... does he have to be able to read to get food? He listens to Erik, who mumbles softly as he reads part of the menu to Matthew. Doesn't sound so bad, maybe the food makes up for the fact that James keeps admonishing him with his looks. Yes, he will behave! Even Sam realizes that revealing their secret by showing their powers could be dangerous!

He orders a Meat Lovers Pizza.

Matthew:

Oh wow, such variety of food that he doesn't know... And one dish looks better than the other on the surrounding tables. It's great that people appreciate good food so much! Like Erik, he looks around the restaurant, but is visibly more nervous than his older brother. The fact that it is largely due to the fact that he does not want to show his brothers that he can already read is of course adeptly hidden. His brothers assume he's just over the moon and he lets them think so. He quickly decides on a pizza and spends his time carefully analyzing and understanding his surroundings. He clearly enjoys being around humans and still thinks it was a wonderful idea to get James and Erik to go out to dinner together. After all, sooner or later they have to come into contact with humans, and not just to get energy. A child at a neighboring table hugs his stuffed dog tightly and Matthew catches his younger brother's gaze. Maybe he should create Damien a stuffed animal like that?

He orders a pepperoni Pizza.

Damien:

Damien really likes the atmosphere in the restaurant! People sit peacefully together and enjoy delicious food and drinks, there is no shouting, no fighting. People's thoughts are relaxed and quiet, there is no danger and being able to decide for himself what he want to eat is a great feeling. Being able to sit at a table like this with his brothers is like a dream come true for him. It's only half disturbing that he can't read the menu himself, but relies on his eldest brother to read it to him in his head. Sam seems to be bothered a lot more that he can't read. Maybe he'll be able to persuade his brother to learn to read and write with him after all? A child sits at a neighboring table and reads the menu to his mother. The child is visibly proud that it was able to read these few lines on its own. Damien would be proud too! The fact that people can and even have to learn to read and write from an early age still fills him with a small pang of jealousy. He is so thankful that he came here with his brothers.

He orders a Pizza Margherita with extra spice.

#seduce me #seduce me james #seduce me erik #seduce me sam #seduce me matthew #seduce me damien #seduce me hc #Headcanon #just thinking #seduce me the otome

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sharkneto · 1 year

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Honestly you could write about your OCs buying groceries or something and id eat that up, your writing is great keep it up

Ah thank you! Around being busy with life, I've been in a little bit of a writing slump, so this is really quite kind of you to share with me <3 I'm so glad you enjoy them so much. I do spend a lot of time thinking of them just doing normal things, so maybe I should write more of that down :)

As a token of my thanks, I give you a snip of Normal Things from the Rob and Sarah Holiday Fic I both wrote too much and not enough of in December. <3

Quick context notes: Rob is the youngest of three - his older siblings are David (10 years older) and Julie (7 years older). Sara (note the spelling difference) is David's oldest daughter who just had a baby of her own.

Sarah luxuriates in her shower. Really enjoys the hot water massaging her back. The soft aroma of her soap. How the steam billows and fills the bathroom.

And most importantly how she’s the only one in the room. Alone. No Walters anywhere, not even her Walters.

When she thinks she’s pushed it as long as she can get away with, she reluctantly leaves the warmth to dry off and rejoin the chaos. Blowdrying her hair takes up a nice amount of time. She considers doing something fancier with it and her makeup to waste some more time, but she really has been in here for too long to be conscionable when there’s fifteen people in a two-bathroom house.

Time to return. She only has to make it through another couple days and then they’ll have the house to themselves again.

“You love them because you love Rob,” she reminds herself in the mirror. She does. There’s just so many of them. They’re everywhere.

In the hall, the door to the guest room is closed – Sara and/or Andrew must be catching up on missed sleep. Hopefully the baby is in there with them. Sarah doesn’t need Carol [Rob's mom] to try and hand it off to her again in a forceful push for those latent motherly feelings she’s apparently supposed to have.

She continues down the hall. It’s unexpectedly quiet, a softer rumble of voices than normal and Christmas music beating in the background, broken as Sarah makes it to the living room and Julie exclaims, “What is that?”

David, Julie, and Rob sit around the coffee table, leaning over a pad of paper. All three of them have their heads tilted over whatever is drawn on it.

David points at some part of it. “It’s a UFO.”

Rob squints. “I got that. How did you get to that from—?”

“No,” his brother interrupts. “No, I did the best drawing of what you wrote. Accurate to every degree.”

Julie snorts and flips the page back one.

Sarah walks over after another sweep of the room – the three siblings do seem to be the only ones here right now. She relaxes. “Are you guys playing Telestrations? Where is everyone?”

Rob brightens at her appearance. “Yes. And you want to play, I know you do. And go right after me.”

“A big group went with Mom and Dad for a walk around the neighborhood. Mom was weird about wanting to see the decorations in the daytime, but I wasn’t going to push it. It got her out of the kitchen and messing with Rob’s system in there. Half of mine went with Michael back to our hotel because someone forgot her phone and you know how you can’t survive family time without that,” Julie reports. “Sara and Andy are back with the baby. Hopefully sleeping.” Her gaze flicks to David, a look passing between them. “And I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than play a dumb game like Telestrations.”

“She definitely doesn’t,” Rob rushes to say. He pats the cushion next to him. “I don’t know why we’re trying to play this with three people, anyway. It works better with more.”

Sarah laughs. “How bad is he doing?” She leans over the back of the couch, hand resting on her husband’s shoulder.

“Terribly,” Julie says cheerfully. She spins the notepad for Sarah to see better.

“It’s not that bad!” Rob defends. “They’re exaggerating like they always do.”

“You write like a drunk monkey,” Sarah says fondly, patting his shoulder twice in appeasement as he huffs. She looks at the scribbled line on the page, written words only by technicality. “’Cow jumped over the moon’?” she asks the group.

David pulls the pad back to himself as Rob holds a hand up in victory. “How.”

“You know,” Julie says, “one of these years I’ll finally remember to bring one of those primers my students struggling with handwriting get. I think it would really help you out. Just a little practice.”

“I’m not that bad! David always draws whatever he wants. It’s part of our game within the actual game.”

“Oh, Bobby,” Julie says with mock sincerity. “The game within the game is David always going after you so he can destroy how you can’t write words.”

“I’m a doctor!”

“Who can’t write. It’s a really heartwarming accomplishment, we’re very proud,” David says. He leans towards Sarah. “Where in this does it say ‘jumped’. I figured out how this says ‘cow’ and the loops I get how those are the o’s in ‘moon’. Where is the j.”

Sarah points to it. “It’s about finding up and down strokes. And you can’t count humps to figure out u’s and r’s versus m’s and n’s, he doesn’t count so you can’t either. Take in the whole shape. Sometimes he dots the i’s and j’s kind of near the letter they belong to, that helps a lot.”

Rob huffs again.

#thanks for the kind words!#nice things #it has never been relevant in HIT or JT that rob has doctor handwriting #but it is important to me that you all know that he has *atrocious* doctor handwriting #snips #i should have a rob tag #sarah

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changelingsandothernonsense · 11 months

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Ok, I've sent a version of this question to @mareenavee for writerly stuff, but figured I'd adapt it to the arting process and then come pester youuuuuu. Though feel free to answer it in writing mode too, just pick whichever you want to ramble about more :> 1. What are the (art and/or) techniques you're most comfortable with? What comes easily and naturally and just flows (and how come?) 2. What's the stuff that requires lots and lots of redos and revisions? What challenges you as an artist? 3. What do you want to try your hand at, but haven't yet?

Yes, art process asks! We're doing that now!

What are the (art and/or) techniques you're most comfortable with? What comes easily and naturally and just flows (and how come?)

My comfort zone is portraits. Drawing people is easy (relatively speaking), and as much as I complain about it, I do enjoy and have become semi ok at faces and hands in general. I don't know if anything flows (I have poor hand-eye-coordination so it's a bit of an effort on my behalf to do anything precise but I'm clearly a masochist and choose to do precise work) sketches take like 3 hours and lineart takes 1-2 so yeah...slow. I think painting flows best if I'm listening to music, easier to zone out/hyper-focus enough to resist distraction. Skin and hair are the most relaxing to paint (even if I complain about it, I just kinda complain).

Digital is something I fell into because I had Photoshop loaded onto the home computer (ye old 2008 lounge room computer box) and traditional mediums were giving me eczema and/or making me dizzy and triggering headaches so I switched around age 15 and haven't really used many traditional mediums since... No wait, graphite, I'll use that but it's been a time. I am most comfortable with digital. Plus I hate the feeling of stuff on my hands, sensory issues apparently.

My painting technique is kinda similar to both oils and chalk pastels (pastels being my mum's medium, so I picked up a lot from that) like a weird hybrid between the two applied digitally I kinda just pulled from a lot of things and found what came easiest for my process.

What's the stuff that requires lots and lots of redos and revisions? What challenges you as an artist?

Oh boi, this is where I get called weird... (for personal work) I don't do working drawings or thumbnails or studies, I don't do warm-ups and I don't revise sketches. I have a crystal clear image that appears in my head of exactly how I want the finished piece to look, sometimes it's informed by a reference sometimes I have to make one that fits. I know exactly what I need to do to get it to look like that image. That includes lighting and colour that I add at the end, I paint cold and turn the heat up at the end. It's easier on my eyes. I do revisions when I'm doing commissions and professional art, it's a collaborative project and I'm creating someone's vision for them (which I also enjoy). I'll make edits within reason, there's a cut-off point that no one has ever reached but it's 3. I can create to a brief pretty well after 12 years of client work.

Challenges would be backgrounds and scenes, I'm working on those so that they are no longer challenges.

What do you want to try your hand at, but haven't yet?

I want to make something out of clay, a little Horus replica broach.

Like this Ptolemaic Falcon Faience Applique but with more Horus symbology. One day!

#asks #my art process #for fun

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plasma-packin-mama · 11 months

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💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

AWWW hi Astra, thank you!!

Hmm I feel like a lot of times as of late, I'm already a bit unsatisfied with my works as soon as I've finished them. It's a good thing because it means I'm learning, but not the best feeling anyway. I think it's an important skill as an artist to learn to love your works even if you see flaws with them, because there's always some element to appreciate, and creation in itself is beautiful. Here's some things from this blog that I still like:

Of course I have to put my comic here. I'm not too happy with a lot of the art in it to be completely honest, but I know that I worked very hard on it, and it was a big step for me to put something so personal out for others to see for the first time. I'm generally very private about my identity, so I was very nervous to broadcast something that talked so directly about that subject, even if it was actually about Delilah's story. (I've never tried to hide the fact that I put a lot of myself into Delilah lol) I still go back and reread the feedback I got on that comic sometimes because it makes me so happy to see others connecting with and feeling "seen" by my work. I never expected so much kindness. I think the reception of this comic is stored forever in my brain like one of the Core Memories from Inside Out. Thank you so much to everyone who left me feedback of any kind on that work, because I'm sure it means more to me than you really expected.

This is from very early in my blog when I first met @/thebigolbee and I worked SO hard on it because I felt so lucky that such a great and popular artist like Bee was doing an art trade with me! 😭😭 About nine months later I think we draw each other's OCS about as much as we draw our own- so I guess it worked out lol! I spent a long time on the line art for this one and I think it turned out really nice :)

I'm very proud of the background in this drawing, and I think the characters came out cute as well even though they're just a doodle. I get lazy with backgrounds most of the time so it was a good exercise. It was fun to work on!!!

This was a drawing I did when I was really struggling with art, I tried to loosen up (the hardest thing ever for me lol) and just go with the flow and honestly, even though it's nothing too special I still just really enjoy something about it!!! It's fun I think! (I have to draw Delilah during that period of their life more...)

ACK. This Frankenstein drawing that I picked at for so long and eventually just didn't finish the background for. I really love the characters and the mood of the piece, even though i intended to add much more detail to the room they're in. I think sometimes it's ok to leave things "unfinished" instead of just agonizing over it and never letting it see the light of day.

Valentine's drawing. It really surprised me how this became one of my most popular posts because I didn't really expect anyone to notice it!!! I drew it 1000% for myself, because happy sparkly characters being happy together are my favorite to draw. But apparently everyone else also likes that! A good lesson. (Maybe it was just bc everyone loves Ms. Rae Jepsen's musical stylings as much as me...)

I'm really proud of all the art that I did for high fantasy au, but this one especially because I worked very hard with my markers and I feel like it came out well!! I'm really awful at utilizing color in an interesting way-- I get nervous about ruining stuff by adding the wrong color the wrong place, but I think I did really well this time!!

I think that's enough!! It was really nice to look back at all my old works - I was actually surprised by how many things I still like despite their age!!! I do feel very positive after writing this post, so thank you for sending this along to me Astra!! :] I encourage everyone to do this, really go through your works and think about what you've learned from each one and why it's still nice!!

#peepie art #<- if u want to browse ALL my posts hehe #ask #thedorkyastra

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ninhaoma-ya · 1 year

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Chapter 1065 — The six faces of Vegapunk

First of, what an amazing chapter title! It tells you all and yet reveals nothing.

Zoro can think! He’s good at battle strategy and protection — his role in the crew

So they agreed to let Caribou hitch a ride, but locked him in a barrel for the duration thereof? Nice people, these pirates.

Brook and Zoro enjoying a cuppa <3

Brook’s shirt is lit

The ominous robot in the background does not bode well for the Sunny

I wonder what “Punk Records” painted in the ceiling stands for? A record of ancient history? The WG’s indie record label? Vegapunk’s scientific archive?

I hope we get to see what’s in the floating cube-things!

The jaw-like perspective of the panel, with the egg shards on either side, gives ~ominous vibes~

First of, it’s so cute that Nami is as excited as Usopp by the cool techy stuff! Our science girl!

Second, nice little social commentary on our reliance on fossil fuels there, Oda. It’s like that “started as a fund pirate adventure, delves into the horrors of modern capitalism, globalism and slavery and I still enjoy the ride”-meme that makes rounds every now and then.

I do wonder about the eternal flame. Is it a dream or does it exist?

This is the best panel of the whole damn chapter and I will die on this hill. Might update with “..of arch” once we’re done, we’ll see.

The properties of that material are really interesting. Vegapunk obviously controls it from somewhere, but does it have to do with the clothes they are all now wearing or the material itself?

Nami is my fave. But I do agree with Usopp. And what kind of futuristic treasure do you see in antiques?

I wonder if they made seraphim of Crocodile, Doflamingo, Law and Buggy as well. So far they’ve looked a lot like Oda’s SBS drawing of the shichibukai as children. I can’t wait for some of those..

I don’t think the other seraphim have been quite so blatantly.. made? Constructed? as this one, with the liquid part of his arm on show like that.

And I do hope this exhibition of Nami’s ‘I can’t fight children’ will turn into a similar thing as Sanji’s ‘won’t kick a woman’ because that’s just lazy writing.

However, you will pay for that since the my apparently come equipped with sensors for sensing-the-weakest-link:

And that’s what I mean with the clothes.

Can he swim through the floor because Edison controls the materials in the room, or because Vegapunk has managed to synthesise Señor Pink’s swim-swim fruit, which would be a divergence from the ‘I can only make zoans’ that’s proven true so far? On the other hand, that would once again prove how much better of a scientist he is than, for a totally random example, Caesar.

But interesting info about the lineage factors storing information and even memories! How does that work with a seraphim who is used to fighting with a Devil Fruit, will they just be confused until they adapt?

What did you figure out, Edison?

Also, great characterisation for three Vegapunks in one tiny panel. Well done, Oda.

..sorry Franky, I don’t think logic-Vegapunk likes you very much..

Will we get a glimpse of the Void Century?

Really enjoying this arc so far, although the fan service is a bit too much. But the story is shaping up to be very interesting! And it’s nice with a breath of fresh air and comedy after the pressure of Wano.

Great chapter! I give it hope for the future and a pair of magnets to stick on your boots.

(Oh no, I just got the best idea for some art. Help.)

#one piece #ch 1065 #opspoilers #one piece spoilers #nin reads one piece #the best damn panel of the whole chapter #amazing art is amazing

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violetsareblue-selfships · 10 months

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Twins?

Ship: Raiden Ei x April [Background EiMiko x April] | Word Count: 1473 | Warnings/Tags: First Person POV, food mention, very mild jealousy (like hinted at mostly)

A/N: happy birthday, ei~ -- so it's interesting that she was like alluding to makoto in her birthday letter when I already planned on posting this today hehe <3 I hope you enjoy it~

Hearing that I've been summoned to Tenshukaku would ordinarily be a cause for concern. Why would the Raiden Shogun call for someone personally if they weren't in trouble or needed for something?

But after our last date together, both Yae and Raiden have expressed a desire to have one-on-one dates with me. I get it. They likely want to see if I act different or show a different side of myself to them alone.

If we're going to keep dating, it was bound to happen eventually.

Yae hasn't yet found me for a date, but it seems that Raiden's found enough free time to call me to her.

So, instead of panicking and rushing there like the same announcement would have caused me to weeks ago, I smile and thank the soldiers and ask for a moment to get ready. They relax a little at the fact I didn't try to send them away (apparently Raiden had requested they accompany me there so I didn't get stopped at the gates).

I dress up a tiny bit, switching out my plain shirt for a pretty blouse and deciding that the skirt I'm wearing is pretty enough. I grab a light jacket in case the wind picks up as well as my keys and everything else I usually leave the house with.

"Hmm…" It feels a bit odd to be going to Tenshukaku without anything to give to Raiden. I hear it's considered good etiquette to bring her something, and while this may not be usual circumstances, it likely would still be a good idea…

I scan the room for literally anything, my eyes brightening when I spot the tray of brownies I had made earlier. I pack a few of them up, enough that she could give some to Yae if she so desires, and I finally leave my house.

"Are you ready to go?" One of the soldiers asks and I nod. They accompany me the entire walk, which feels a little weird.

Everyone in town is staring at me. No doubt they think I've done something wrong to be accompanied by the Shogunate soldiers like this, but I wonder if my calmness is confusing them. Normally a person would look anxious, not like they're headed to afternoon tea.

Once we set foot into Tenshukaku, there's another person waiting to accompany me to the room Raiden's in. I thank them and follow behind them, surprised to hear two voices coming from the room as we draw close, both voices sounding similar.

My questions are both answered and doubled when I'm allowed to enter the room. Is this some kind of trick of my imagination? There are two of them sitting in front of me.

It's a little odd the way their expressions both soften, though in slightly different ways. I feel a sense of familiarity with one more than the other, even though they're identical, I can still tell somehow. The one on the right is the Raiden I've been going out with along with Yae. The one on the left… I don't know what to make of her.

"Hmm, I suppose this was a confusing way to do this." My Raiden says, her expression turning apologetic. "I should have considered how odd it would be for you."

"So you're twins?" I ask quietly, looking between the two.

"In a way." My Raiden holds her hand out to me and I step forward to take it, allowing her to pull me to sit beside her. "April, meet my sister, Makoto."

Makoto smiles at me. "Sorry to have confused you. It is lovely to meet the girl Ei's talking so sweetly about."

"It's nice to meet you too." I say softly. She's nice, really sweet actually. Not that Ei isn't, Ei just has a more stoic side to her at times.

"What is it you have there?" She asks and I blink. I'd nearly forgotten the brownies in my hands. If I had known about Makoto, I would have packed more…

I pass the package over to Raiden (is it too early for me to call her Ei?) and she opens them up, gasping softly at the sight of the brownies. It makes Makoto smile and she giggles at my confusion. "Didn't you know? My sister has a weak spot for desserts."

"Ah, I didn't. I made some this morning and figured it'd be a good enough thing to bring… Besides, I thought this was going to be…" I trail off and Raiden looks at me.

"It is what you're thinking. I merely wanted to introduce you to Makoto. You'd need to meet her eventually given that you might run into her out on the streets of Inazuma City." Raiden explains and I nod. I could see why she'd need to explain.

"How is it I never knew there were two of you?" I ask quietly. It would be major news to have twin archons or is only one of them the archon? I don't know the specifics here…

"We rule jointly. You would have never needed to know if not for the way you're growing close to Miko and I." Raiden says and I hum.

Makoto smiles a little. "We're both good at different things so we each handle what our strengths are. Which is why you would see me in Inazuma City. I tend to be the one interacting most directly with our people."

"Okay. If no one knows that you're twins, then in public, should I treat you both the same?" I ask, more referring to the way I'm dating Raiden than anything.

"Mm. Most likely, yes. Hand-holding and hugs would be fine." Raiden says, her eyes flashing a little. "However, I'd prefer to keep anything else to just us."

Makoto laughs. "Calm down, sister. I think she meant the first two. It would be confusing for the people for her to not be close to us on certain days."

"True." Raiden says with a sigh. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"Yes, you do!" Makoto teases. "You were the same way with Miko when you introduced her to me."

Raiden huffs and Makoto laughs, leaning over and patting her shoulder softly. "I think I'll take my leave now. Have fun, you two." With that, she carefully rises to her feet and leaves the room.

"Again, I apologize. I didn't mean to sound so possessive of you." Raiden says once we're alone. I giggle and lean up against her a little shyly.

"It's alright. But, if I may ask, why did your mind jump to kisses? We haven't yet…" I trail off and her cheeks go pink.

"I… I might have been considering it. I still need to talk it over with Miko, so I'm afraid it won't happen today, but it's still been on my mind." Raiden says and my heart skips a beat, leaving me feeling a little shaky.

"If it makes you feel better, I've been thinking about it too." I say and her next breath is shaky. "Why don't you have one of the brownies?" I ask with a grin. "You should have told me you liked sweets! I'd be bringing them to our dates more often."

Her eyes widen and start to sparkle a little and I giggle. Uh-oh. Have I created a monster in saying that? "You're too sweet." She murmurs, carefully picking up one of the brownies and taking a bite. Her eyes flutter a little as a grin spreads across her face. "This is exquisite. You never told me you could bake."

I laugh softly. "Uhh, I'm pretty sure I did. Back when we met. I think Yae immediately tried to distract you from it though." I say and she hums.

"You're right. Well, I wouldn't mind if you baked more for me in the future."

"I can do that." I say with a grin. "Though, Raiden…"

"Ei. I think we've been dating long enough that you're allowed that privilege by now."

A small smile spreads across my face, "Then, Ei, you'll have to give me a list of your favorite desserts so I know which would be best to bring you."

She laughs softly. "That won't be necessary. Anything sweet is to my tastes. Honestly, I don't know if I have a favorite." She says and I giggle softly.

"Noted."

"So, since this is a date, what do you say to a walk around the gardens after I finish this?" She asks, gesturing with the brownie.

"That sounds perfect." I say and she smiles at me, wrapping her free arm around me and tugging me a little closer.

"Good."

I lean against her while she eats the brownie, looking forward to spending the next few hours with her. It's going to be so fun getting to be alone with her.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship fic #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #self insert #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert x canon #an everlasting love 💖🍰#our love shines eternal 💞🌸#my writing

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