#elliot. is there something else you should be doing?

[steddieas-shegoes]

Congrats on 3K followers, which you so deserve! My request is because The Hold Steady's song "Stuck Between Stations" is stuck in my head and the lyric is, shockingly, "Tonight it's like he's stuck between stations". Have a wonderful writing weekend!

Thank you so much! I decided to take this super literally and do something a little silly. Hope you enjoy!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The train was late, but what else is new?

Eddie watched the board as the estimated arrival time kept going up. He’d have to text Elliot to let him know he’d be late for their appointment.

At least Elliot was a regular client of his and would understand.

Eventually, only 18 minutes late, the train arrived.

Eddie shoved through the crowd to get on, not even caring if he had to stand sandwiched between sweaty people as long as he got to his shop.

By some miracle, he managed to get the only empty seat left at the back of the car.

And it was next to possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

He was wearing tight jeans and a polo, glasses, a nose ring, and his hair was perfectly mussed. Eddie was such a sucker for the preppy hipster look. It never turned out well for him, but dammit if he didn’t try anyway.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked the guy.

“Nope,” he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

He was furiously typing something, and Eddie was doing his best to not read anything.

But it sure was difficult and Eddie had pretty good eyesight and also never learned manners.

It’s not even that she left me for someone else. She tried to say that my coming out as bi ruined our relationship. Our relationship was ruined way before that! And she knew saying that would make me feel like shit so-

“Am I entertaining you?” The guy said from next to him.

Eddie startled and looked up, right into the warmest brown eyes he’d ever looked into.

“Sorry. It kinda seemed like you were working on a novel. I’m an avid reader.”

The man snorted and put his phone face down on his leg. “I’m Steve. You should at least know my name if you’re gonna know my business.”

“Eddie. I am sorry. Even more sorry your ex was clearly a piece of shit,” Eddie nudged his shoulder with his own.

The train started moving and Eddie glanced up at crowd of people in the car.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. I wanted to settle down, she wanted to travel and focus on her career. Would’ve never worked,” Steve sighed. “Onto the next!”

Eddie snorted. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.”

“Ouch.”

“It was coming for a while,” Steve shrugged. “I feel like I mourned the relationship while I was still in it. Plus, she moved in with her new boyfriend, so it’s only a matter of time before I move in with mine.”

Eddie felt a weird pain in his chest. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Steve smirked at him. “Not yet.”

The train slowed and then came to a stop. The usual announcement for the next station didn’t start. Instead, an announcement let them know they were experiencing a short delay.

Eddie groaned and let his head hit the window next to him.

“I’m sure my shoulder is more comfortable than the window.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s suggestion.

Steve was blushing, looking down at his phone like he hadn’t even spoken. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Eddie imagined it.

“If you want. The last short delay took 25 minutes,” Steve continued, finally looking over at Eddie with a small smile.

“I have to let my client know I’m gonna be even later,” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket to send another text. It may not go through underground, but at least he could say he tried.

“Client? Are you a therapist?”

“Close. Tattoo artist,” Eddie finished up the text and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, my friend Will is a tattoo artist! He keeps telling me to get something, but I’m not the biggest fan of needles.” Steve looked apologetic. “I’m worried I’d pass out.”

Eddie was already planning exactly what he’d tattoo on Steve’s body.

“You’d be surprised how many people I tattoo who don’t like needles. Is it a pain thing or just the needles in general?”

“Both? I guess?” Steve was slowly leaning closer to Eddie’s side.

“Well, the pain is easy. I have a numbing cream I recommend to first timers or people getting something done in an especially sensitive spot that works great.” Eddie let his arm rest across the back of the seat, skin brushing against Steve’s back. “The other part is a little harder, but usually I go the old school distractions method.”

“Like a toddler with a shot?” Steve laughed.

“Exactly! I play music they like or put on a show they wanna watch. Sometimes we just talk the whole time. Sometimes they prefer to just close their eyes and pretend they’re somewhere else. Everyone’s different.”

Eddie watched Steve soak in that information. He technically didn’t take walk-ins anymore except for special events, but he’d be willing to have Steve in his chair right after Elliot’s appointment. He’d stay late. He’d do it for free if it meant having his hands on Steve’s skin.

“Have you ever had someone leave before it’s done?”

“Twice,” Eddie nodded. “Once was a drunk guy who insisted he was sober enough to do the tattoo and halfway through, he threw up and then just walked out. Don’t know if he ever bothered to get it done. The other was a woman who had chosen her ribs as her first tattoo ever. Don’t ever do that, by the way. Not a great start. She quit on the second word of the lyrics she was getting.”

Steve snorted. “What were the lyrics?”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t remember. I’m sure she regrets even trying all the time.”

Steve laughed again and leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie let his arm wrap around Steve’s shoulder and squeeze.

“So? You gonna get one? Did I convince you?” Eddie said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin this moment between them, stuck between stations for the foreseeable future.

“Hm. I’ll consider it. Do you have room on your books for me?” Steve turned his face into Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can make room for you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart already? What a sweet talker you are,” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“I read people pretty well and you are a sweetheart. No doubt about it.”

Steve groaned. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all.”

Something in Eddie’s voice must have sounded genuine. Steve looked up at him, his face close enough to Eddie’s to feel his breath.

“This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?”

“This. I feel safe here with you. I’m ready to let you give me a tattoo even though I hate needles.”

Eddie’s fingers traced patterns along his upper arm, mindlessly planning out a tattoo already.

“Could give you one right here,” Eddie tapped his bicep. “Something small, dainty linework, a sunflower maybe.”

“A sunflower? Isn’t that kinda feminine?” Steve’s fingers were tracing a pattern on Eddie’s thigh. “Not that I’m against it because of that, it just doesn’t seem to fit me.”

And maybe yeah, if Eddie thought about it, he could see how Steve’s body type was thicker, muscular, closer to jock than city hipster living off of coffee and cigarettes. Flowers might not be the first thing someone would think of when looking at Steve.

But when talking to him, when seeing how soft he got with an arm around him, how he turned into the affection, it was pretty obvious he should be covered in delicate work.

He deserves delicate things, Eddie could already tell.

He wanted to give him that.

He wanted to give him anything.

“Someone as radiant as you needs something that represents that. Anytime you’re ready,” Eddie couldn’t help the kiss he pressed to the top of Steve’s head.

The short delay turned into a long delay, but Steve and Eddie talked the entire time. When they finally got moving, Steve stayed on even though the next station was his stop.

“Think I’d like this tattoo artist to take my tattoo virginity,” Steve smirked at him as the train started moving again.

“As long as you’re okay sitting through my appointment first. Might get boring.”

“Doubt being near you could ever be boring.”

Getting stuck on the train with Steve turned into barely leaving his side for weeks, months, years.

Nothing felt as natural as being with his sunflower.

[crowdsourcedgender]

Hello all! I'm trying to make a comprehensive catalogue of GoI (Group of Interest) genders. I've collected all the ones I can find and am planning to coin any that haven't been. Big credit to @dr-gearz for the flag template I'm gonna use, as well as making many of the genders on the list! Also credit to @\genderketer, who created some other flags which I will likely take inspiration from.

Please be aware that this list will be edited, so if you reblog you may want to reblog it again when it is done.

I am taking requests, including new colors, a different GoI or a different symbol!

Below the cut is the list of genders, with links!

Key:

- [x] Already created by dr-gearz

- [o] Only flag made by genderketer, reformatting pending

- [/o] Reformatted, alt flag by genderketer

- [xo] Already created by dr-gearz, alt flag by genderketer

- [ ] No flag, pending

- [/] Flag made by me

- [/] Alexylva University

- [/] Ambrose Restaurants

- [/o] Anderson Robotics or alt flag

- [x] Arcadia

- [xo] Are We Cool Yet? or alt flag

- [/] The Black Queen

- [xo] Chaos Insurgency or alt flag

- [/] Chicago Spirit

- [x] Children of the Scarlet King

- [x] Church of the Broken God

- [/o] Church of the Second Hytoth or alt flag

- [/] Daevites

- [/o] Deer College or alt flag

- [xo] Doctor Wondertainment or alt flag

- [x] The Factory

- [/o] Fifthism/The Fifth Church or alt flag

- [xo] Gamers Against Weed or alt flag

- [xo] Global Occult Coalition or alt flag

- [/] Goldbaker-Reinz Ltd.

- [/] Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting

- [/] Horizon Initiative

- [/] Manna Charitable Foundation

- [x] Marshall Carter and Dark

- [x] Nobody

- [/] Oneroi Collective

- [/o] Parawatch or alt flag

- [/o] Prometheus Labs or alt flag

- [/] Sarkicism

- [xo] The Serpent's Hand or alt flag

- [/] Shark Punching Centre

- [/o] Three Moons Initiative or alt flag

- [/] TotleighSoft

- [/] Unusual Incidents Unit

- [/] Vikander-Kneed Technical Media

- [x] Wilson's Wildlife Solutions

[sitp-recs]

do you have any recs for drarry + workplace romance?

I definitely do, one of my favourite tropes! This list is strongly focused on office romance and as you can see it got a bit out of hand so I’m gonna link two additional rec lists that might interest you: sports AU and Quidditch fics. Enjoy!!!

Measure My Lordship With Thine Vulgar Aye by @starquestingfordrarry (M, 1k)

Draco buys some Muggle magnets for the office.

Coded Office Missives by carpemermaid (E, 2.5k)

They had an arrangement. Malfoy would send a coded memo when he needed Harry. He knew to tell his secretary to hold his appointments, and lock the door after he arrived. It was a game they started when they were just starting their careers at the Ministry; it’s something they’ve kept up all this time.

The Keepers by RenVeree (T, 3.6k)

In the Rare Books Department of the Ministry of Magic, Draco tends to unique texts and, on occasion, a certain Unspeakable.

Graffiti and Insomnia by SilentAuror (M, 4k)

Harry can't seem to sleep these days. Perhaps it's the boredom of his office job, but all that changes with a bit of graffiti in the office bathroom one day.

Never Gonna Give You Up by InnerLilith (E, 5k)

Five times Harry rickrolls Draco and one time Draco gets him back.

Like This and Like This (Dreams of Lace) by @primavera-cerezos (E, 6k)

Harry gets an accidental peek. He can’t think of anything else.

Say the words / then stay around by Teatrolley (NR, 6k)

They’ve been together for a while when Harry decides that he wants to try the Auror Office again. What he doesn’t consider is the effects the work might have on the two of them. But, then again, maybe those effects don’t have to be all bad?

Interdepartmental Memos by GoldenTruth813, Henndra (E, 6k)

What do you get when GoldenTruth813 plays Harry and Henndra is Draco? An epistolary fic of course!

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (T, 8k)

Draco Malfoy has been living like a model citizen. If only he could convince Potter.

Small Spaces series by @bixgirl1 (E, 8.5k)

Malfoy is like an itch under Harry's skin on an average day. It's even worse when they're trapped in a lift.

Love, Actually, is All Around by @punk-rock-yuppie (T, 10k)

It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco works in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

Settle in in my slow-burning heart, orphaned (NR, 10k)

Five years after the war Draco is working a tech developer job in the Auror Office, and it's all great except this one thing: Harry Potter works there, too. Things only become stranger when Harry starts bringing Draco ugly souvenirs back from his work travels.

Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (E, 10k)

It doesn't matter that Marcy from Accounting is dancing on the tables, Shacklebolt is wearing antlers, and Elliot from Transportation is on his third round of Mariah Carey on karaoke because all the free champagne in the world won't salvage the Ministry Christmas party for Draco if Potter doesn't show up soon.

Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

This Unexpected Windfall by mindabbles (E, 11k)

Harry doesn’t like it when Draco is called in to work one of his cases. No. He doesn’t like it at all — at least that’s what he tells himself.

Crossed Wires by @skeptiquewrites (E, 11k)

Harry James Potter, Member of the Wizengamot for Godric’s Hollow, Secretary for Transport is ill-suited for the world of wizarding politics. Enter Draco Malfoy, Director of Communications for the Minister for Magic to moonlight as his press secretary. It should solve all of Harry’s issues with the press and Draco’s issues with over-work. Theoretically.

What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 12k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (T, 12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn.

In Which Harry is Magnetic North and Draco Is An Idiot by bryoneybrynn (T, 13k)

For as long as he can remember, Draco’s been bringing fake dates to his family’s annual Yuletide celebration in order to evade his mother’s matchmaking. This year, Potter’s posing as his pretend boyfriend.

The World of Management (Or, Harry Potter and the Office Romance) by @moonflower-rose (E, 15k)

Draco Malfoy is the heart and soul of the Department of Magical Games and Sport. The only thing standing in the way of professional bliss is his boss. And Harry Potter.

Give Me a Quiet Mind by @wellhalesbells (T, 16k)

Draco is Weasley’s assistant. Except for the week he’s not. Whose brilliant idea was that again?

Ardour of Karma by @xx-thedarklord-xx (E, 17k)

“Malfoy knows something is going on with you and unless you both want to go back to fighting and death glares, you should fix it.” “How do I do that? Just waltz up to him and say, ‘I know I’ve been a prat but your scent makes my dick swell. How’s your day?’”

Common and Cliché by bryoneybrynn (E, 17k)

Aurors Malfoy and Potter have to work a case on Beltane. It would be simple if everything wasn't so damn distracting.... For those of you who are wondering, yes, I've tried to cram in as many h/d clichés as possible. But hopefully the story works as a story, too. It's not crack!fic by a long shot but it is a bit tongue-in-cheek.

Knot Your Average Coworkers by @thecouchsofa (E, 22k)

It takes Harry a while to work out that every month, almost like clockwork, Draco is given an assignment in the field that takes him out of their shared office for days on end. After each assignment, Draco returns looking so bloody exhausted that Harry gears up to file a complaint with their boss.

Little Red Courgette by @blamebrampton (T, 31k)

When this season's purple courgettes are woefully thin, Draco Malfoy thinks it amounts to small beans. Next thing he knows, the Department of Standards is over-run with leeks, Brussels sprouts all sorts of legislative difficulties, and somebody appears to have put a roquette under Harry Potter.

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (E, 47k)

The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.

The Darkness Before the Dawn by Ren (E, 55k)

A mysterious creature is loose in London, stalking and killing people. Auror Harry Potter requests the help of a liaison from the Beast Division and gets saddled with Draco Malfoy. Will they be able to stop the creature before it claims more lives?

We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by Femme (E, 70k)

Harry and Draco have been falling into bed on and off again since the last election five years ago, much to the amusement--and financial gain--of their circle of friends. But when Harry agrees to work with Draco to put Kingsley Shacklebolt into the Minister's office, they can't work side-by-side again every day and sleep together; that would be courting disaster. Wouldn't it?

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine.

Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 149k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Tales From the Special Branch series by Femme (E, WIP)

When Gawain Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they'll have to work outside the confines of the law--even though they are the law.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Okay let’s talk about Murder Drones.

SPOILERS FOR EP 7 LIKE A LOT LIKE ALL OF IT. MURDER DRONES SPOILERS HERE

Let’s start with the stuff I was right about.

Damn you tumblr and your limited image count

Tessa is Cyn/Absolute Solver:

I should not have been as happy about that scene as I was but I felt vindicated. Amongst my friend group everyone was thinking Tessa was the last human or working with Cyn/AS. Not me! I knew that little freak was in there and I’m so happy I was right. I also noticed that when Tessa is scanned she is never registered as a human.

(In order: Doll, Uzi, The Sentinel)

Also she is just dismissive and rude to her supposed “friends”. She tells Uzi not to date “her robot”, blindly thought V and N would just follow her despite the “company” stranding them and of course orders J to mind her ship. Not to mention telling Uzi to wait in the box while her and N take care of everything else.

Someone else mentioned that Tessa despite being way older now should be as tall as her mother was but yet she is still the same height as N and can lift him. Disassembly Bots are a lot heavier than Worker Drones.

Edit: Tessa also understands Doll. It makes sense of the Drones too but Tessa (possibly American with a British accent cause her parents are posh posers) Elliot probably doesn’t know Russian.

Cyn made the Disassembly Drones:

Nori straight up confirms this so not surprised. Ep5 showed Cyn/AS was capable of resetting them in the mansion. Also in the first episode when N is restarted first by Uzi and then J, it showed that the system admin is Cyn and not JCJensen. We see it briefly in Ep5 before Uzi becomes the System Admin. This is also shown when Cyn/AS tries to reboot N by bringing back his memories but can’t.

This also leads me to think that their memories are erased from planet to planet. We know that there are plenty of disassembly bots but only J, N and V remain. I do think it would be a stretch to say that every bot is just a clone of these three. My point is, they have destroyed other planets. J and N may not be as aware as V is but this has taken a toll on all of them. My main reasoning behind this is that in N’s flashback we see a world about to be destroyed. Drones and humans are being slaughtered. I think Cyn/AS sends bots to the world and when the world implodes she just reboots them to a new server body. We know that “effective drones were cloned more”. Makes V statement more accurate, Cyn/AS will keep doing the same horrors in as many bodies as she needs to get what she wants.

Onto the other stuff now.

Absolute Solver = Vampirism

The disassembly drones have always had the allusion to vampires (N sleeps upside down, can’t be in the sun, need for oil, etc). I didnt think it would take a somewhat literal aspect. So we know that Absolute Solver program can create organic material but we didn’t question the how. When I posted yesterday about the oil vs “not oil”, after rewatching it on my TV I can confidently say, It’s not oil. It’s blood.

So Solver needs blood to make organic material which is why Solver infected bots can bleed. Something we kinda knew when N regrew his head and Alice dissecting Disassembly Drones. And you know, Solver straight up saying “Let’s eat!”.

Which explains why Cyn/AS took over Tessa. A self sufficient, self-feeding, suit that would keep her safe on Cooper 9. Also to access the database to get the list of infected drones.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Cyn/AS literally eats Doll’s core. Her HEART.

I also meant that AS infected Drones and Disassembly Drones don’t ONLY need Oil. They (Uzi, N, V, J, Doll, Cyn/AS) need and/or consum both.

There is no saving Cyn

Yeah she’s gone. At this point the only thing keeping Cyn alive would be the Solver, if she she is alive. The fact that all of Solver’s admin goes in between absolutesolver_ and _cyn means that they are one and the same by now. Not really a theory just something I’ve been thinking on.

Uzi and N

He is so lame your honor I love him. I truly believe they’ve been “dating” since post-prom. Dating in a way that neither of them realized was dating. EP6 would have been the most definitive showing of that. I also believe V knew and said nothing.

These fucking losers I love them so much:

Thanks to Khan saying Uzi’s interest include “cannibalism and Nightcore”, it’s fair to assume Nori was still eating people/oil before she got “killed”.

[wolfstarhaven]

Hi! I am looking for pining fics where Sirius or Remus are dating/hooking up with other people and the other has to sadly and quietly pine (but they eventually get together).

Especially if it is at hogwarts and maybe the other person sees or hears something they wish they hadn’t? Non-hogwarts also welcome! Love me some pining and miscommunication that gets worked out!

Hi love🌸 Here’s my best try! If I remember correctly, all of the Hogwarts ones include some sort of scene where Sirius walks in on Remus and someone else (;

Hogwarts era:

Befriending A Ravenclaw, by kreestar (55k)

Remus is a Ravenclaw Prefect and Sirius is finding it harder and harder to admit he isn't obsessed with him.

In which Sirius thinks he’s straight (surprise, he’s not), and gets very confused (read: jealous) when Remus gets a boyfriend. Slow burn pining on all sides — it’s bloody wonderful!

Casanova of Gryffindor Tower, by Moonystar_394 (16k)

In sixth year, Sirius Black had two major realizations.

First and foremost, Sirius was utterly, irrevocably and in an almost excruciatingly embarrassing way head over heels for his best friend.

Secondly, his best friend was kind of a slut.

In which everyone’s in love with Remus (as they should be), Remus is oblivious, and Sirius gets veeeery sexually frustrated. I love it!

Falling Into Place, by GreenEyedGoddess (6k)

There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.

They are so stupid!!! (I love them). In which r and s kiss, but then they completely fail to communicate afterwards. Can they talk to each other? no no no! Instead Remus starts dating Dirk Cresswell (because of a misunderstanding, ofc). Much jealousy and pining ensues.

Just Like Best Friends Do, by MsAlexWP (4k)

After uselessly pining for three years Remus decides, finally, to get Sirius out of his system by shagging as many blokes as he can. It doesn’t go quite as planned.

So much stupidity and miscommunication in one little fic! Jealous!sirius, oblivious!remus, and lots of mutual pining. #clown-to-clown-communication. Also, Remus is really hot (;

Non-hogwarts:

talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee, by beep348 (20k)

Remus and Sirius are in the same literature seminar at university and while Remus is great at reading books he is very bad at reading people.

Ok so this is a muggle!au and I know I’ve recced this before. But it’s so good so here we go again! If you haven’t read this already, you definitely should!!! In which Remus is under the impression that Sirius is dating Mary. Things get complicated. Misunderstanding deluxe! It’s so so so lovely and well-written! Lots of pining and jealousy, a beautiful slow burn (for 20k).

xx Elliot

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

FOH/BOH pt 1/2 (M, cold)

I'm splitting this in two because it's going to be 2 fairly distinct parts. In this one, Elijah is sick - but I'll be honest, a lot of it is just Mark being introspective. I wanted to write out a little of his story, since my last story had a good amount of Matt's inner thoughts. Idk what else to say about this one, lol other than Elijah catches something from the servers and is his usual pissed off self about it. Next part will hopefully be out soon-ish. Hope you all like it :)

CW: male, cold, fever, light mess, contagion, coughing. 2.7k words.

FOH/BOH

As far as Matt was concerned, there were two types of people in this world: front of house, and back of house.

Matt didn’t believe in astrology; he thought the enneagram was stupid, hated personality tests, and nearly scoffed in Elijah’s face when he told the management team at Elliot’s they’d be analyzing management styles using one of those what-color-is-your-parachute tests during the slow season this year. He did, however, believe firmly, almost spiritually, in the FOH/BOH divide.

The differences, Matt knew, could be subtle or obvious, but they were always distinct.

“Elijahhh!” Greyson called from the kitchen at the top of his lungs. “We can all hear you from in here!”

The cooks whooped with laughter from their prep stations behind the line, and Matt bit his cheek to keep from joining them. Greyson turned towards him, a smirk painted on his face, and secured his hair at the top of his head with a sharpie while they waited for Elijah’s inevitable trudge into the kitchen.

When Elijah pushed through the kitchen doors, the cooks forced themselves into submission and strapped in for the dressing-down they knew was coming their chef’s way. Elijah walked straight to the prep table in the middle of the kitchen and made livid eye contact with Greyson, obviously ready to go to blows. Matt, entirely too close for comfort, took a tentative step towards the line to keep out of the path of destruction.

“Do you thingk,” Elijah said, his voice low and cracking, “that you could fucking cool it with the theatrics, just this once? Just for today? For mbe – hh – hhITZCH-ue! HTSHH-uh! HRRTSHH-ue! Hh-!”

Elijah was stuck in a sort of pre-sneeze purgatory for longer than Greyson had the patience for, apparently. “By all means,” Greyson said, leaning on the prep table with his head in one hand, “don’t stop on my behalf.”

The GM colored and lowered his arm from his face, casting daggers at the chef. “Do you really thingk it’s appropriate for us to fuckigg squabble around your staff?” Elijah asked, quiet enough that only Greyson and Matt could hear it. Greyson smiled, stood to his full height, and placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder.

“I do,” he said at full volume. “They’re not our real kids, it’s okay if they see mommy and daddy duke it out.”

The cooks roared once again, and Elijah flushed, clearly annoyed. “Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re on one today. Whatever. I have to go findish helping the servers set up for the night. Leave mbe out of your stupid little mood.”

“I’m on one because you have the server’s fuckin’ flu and you should be at home, not continuing the spread,” Greyson said to Elijah’s back as his boss started out the kitchen doors. “Mark is coming in in twenty minutes and you are leaving.”

Elijah didn’t turn back around, just flashed the kitchen the finger as he walked out into the dining room. Greyson turned towards his sous and rolled his eyes.

“Passive aggressive fuck,” Greyson said, picking his knife up and turning towards the line cooks behind him. “Don’t worry, guys, we still love you all, mommy and daddy just get frustrated with one another sometimes.”

Another round of laughter from the cooks. Matt shook his head, smiling until they all heard Elijah once again from the dining room – “HRRESHHH-ue!”

Greyson smiled devilishly at Matt, then his cooks, and held up his hand. “One, two,” he mouthed to the cooks, holding up the corresponding fingers. When he got to three, he pointed to the swinging doors that lead to the dining room. The whole kitchen, in tandem, called towards them.

“Bless you, Elijah.”

Within seconds, Elijah’s strained voice answered. “Oh, fuck off all of you.”

This time, the line cooks nearly collapsed with laughter. Greyson turned towards Matt, grinning ear to ear. “Think he heard us?” he asked. Matt couldn’t help but join in on the laughter this time.

***

At first, Mark hadn’t been sure that he bought Matt’s whole front of house person/back of house person bullshit.

“People have layers, babe,” Mark had said, coursing his fingers through Matt’s hair while they ignored the movie that was playing on TV. “No one is just… some caricature of ‘kitchen’ or ‘dining room’. This isn’t The Bear.”

“But that’s the thing, baby, it kind of is The Bear,” Matt said, sitting up straight and looking his boyfriend in the eye. “Did you not relate to The Bear? I don’t think this is going to work if you didn’t relate to The Bear, I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“I mean, yeah, I did but… I don’t know. I want to be more than just my job, y’know?” Mark pulled Matt back to laying on his lap – Matt allowed himself to be pulled.

“This isn’t about your job, it’s about your personality,” Matt explained. “Not everyone has worked in a restaurant, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a front or back of house person.”

“I’m so lost, honey. I thought this was about restaurants.”

“No, it’s about people.”

“Maybe you should look into getting your GED,” Mark said, elbowing Matt playfully. “So you can go to college for, like, sociology or something.”

“Oh fuck you,” Matt said, not unkindly. “You have to know what I mean. C’mon. You’re telling me you’ve never met someone and gone, ‘oh, that person’s totally a kitchen person’.”

“I can genuinely say I have not,” Mark said, placing a kiss on the top of Matt’s head. “Your mind is an enigma.”

They’d dropped it at that point, but Mark hadn’t stopped thinking about it all week. He’d thought about it when he’d talked to his dad on the phone and he asked Mark whether he’d gotten his oil changed lately, but didn’t say ‘I love you’ when they hung up – man, he’s such a back of house guy. He’d thought about it when he’d bought a coffee and the barista asked him about the entirety of his college career in England while a line formed out the door behind him – never met such a front of house person in my life. He’d especially thought about it at work, where the servers and bussers loudly complained all week about being sick.

“Maaaark,” Riley, their lead server, whined to him one day. “I feel like fuckin shiiiit.”

“Well, the shift is 85% over,” Mark replied as he replaced the silverware on an empty table. “Do you think you can make it another hour?”

Riley had pouted, sniffled, and shrugged. “I guess,” she said, opening her server book. “But, like, I’ve already made my money tonight, can’t you just cut me early?”

Typical front of house, Mark had thought to himself. So maybe Matt had been right; maybe there were just two types of people in this world. The problem was, despite having been ‘front of house’ most of his adult life, he didn’t know if he really… belonged there.

Mark had, essentially, fallen into working in restaurants; he’d been an English major in college – which basically guaranteed your life to veer towards serving tables or shaking cocktails – and when he’d graduated, he hadn’t felt the pull towards teaching or grad school or any of the typical ‘English major’ careers his friends had chosen. Instead, he kept his serving job; eventually, the resort that he worked at offered him a banquet captain position, which he did until he realized catering made him want to stab both eyes out with a cocktail fork. When he moved to New York on a whim, Mark had been sure he’d apply to grad school, or look for a copy-writing position, or apply to be a publisher’s assistant – but he didn’t. Instead, he found himself dialing the number on a flyer in the window of a soon-to-be-opened restaurant near the apartment he shared with four other recent college grads.

“Future home of Elliot’s restaurant, this is Elijah speaking,” the voice on the other end of the number answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” Mark had said. “I was wondering if you were hiring any front of house positions?”

It turned out that Mark was the first person to call Elijah in search of a job. Despite his only being twenty-one at the time, and despite the fact that he had no managerial experience, Elijah hired him on the spot to be the front of house manager.

“You have a good vibe,” Elijah said when they met at a coffee shop for Mark’s interview. “That’s all I really care about.”

And then suddenly, somehow, seven years had passed. He’d never found a good enough reason to leave Elliot’s; he was paid well, Elijah let him take tips when he had to cover for servers or bartenders, and the work, while demanding, felt mostly fun. He’d never felt like a front of house person, he was just… a person who worked in the front of house. Sometimes, Mark thought, he didn’t know what kind of person he was at all. A person who things just happened around. A background person. A person that no one could say much about, other than he had a good vibe.

That is, until Matt.

“Hi honey,” Matt said as Mark pushed through the back doors into the kitchen. Mark smiled wide when he saw that Matt was alone in the back kitchen; he pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, which Matt returned greedily.

“Hi,” Mark said, finally pulling away. “How have things been here this morning?”

Before Matt could answer, they heard a huge, “HRRTSHH-ue!” from the front kitchen. Mark whipped his head towards the sound, then back to Matt.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Mark said. Matt pressed his lips together, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.

“Mbark,” Elijah said, rounding the corner with a hand held over the bottom half of his face, “you’re here, great.” The GM yanked a paper towel from the holder on the wall next to Matt and used it to wipe his nose before gesturing Mark to follow him, “Let’s go over the ndight, mbeet me in the office.”

“Right behind you,” Mark murmured to Elijah’s back. Before he followed his boss, he threw Matt a pained look, which his boyfriend returned with a mouthed, I’m sorry.

When the servers were sick, they were annoying because they complained constantly. They called out at the slightest provocation, they glommed onto one another and spread their illnesses like wildfire, and they always ended up sending their shit into the kitchen when one of them inevitably slept with a cook after a long night of drinking. When Elijah was sick, though, it was annoying for a whole other set of reasons.

Mostly, if he was honest, it was the blatant denial that he found obnoxious. “So, tondight shouldn’t be too heinous,” Elijah said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he sat at the shared desk. “It’s tomborrow we really have to – tuh… hhITZSHH-ue! HTSHH-ue!” Elijah folded in on himself to sneeze away from Mark, blearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and attempted to continue. “To worry about,” he finished, coughing into the back of his hand.

“Uh huh,” Mark said, taking in the state of his boss. Elijah had been quiet yesterday, and quick to annoyance, but despite knowing the man for almost a decade, Mark still wasn’t able to decipher between ‘quiet, easily annoyed’ Elijah and ‘getting sick’ Elijah. The two were indecipherable from one another.

“Don’t sit too close, Mark,” Greyson’s voice called from the prep station near the line. Both Mark and Elijah looked over at the chef, who was butchering New York’s and smirking to himself. “He’s sick as a dog.”

“Greyson,” Elijah called, his voice cracking on the word. “Could you combe in here for a minute, please?”

Greyson rolled his eyes, but put down his knife and walked toward the office all the same. “Yes, dear?” he asked, toweling off his hands and leaning on the office’s door frame. “How can I help you? Some tea, maybe, or perhaps a drive home?”

Elijah stood, pulled Greyson into the office, and shut the door. “Stop fuckigg patronizing mbe in front of the staff,” he growled, poking a finger into the chef’s chest. Greyson huffed out a little laugh and slapped a hand on Elijah’s forehead.

“I’ll stop,” he said, “when you no longer have a hundred-and-two fever.”

There they stood, the two ultimate testaments to Matt’s theory, duking it out in front of a clearly-forgotten Mark. Greyson, the gregarious, heart on his sleeve, back-of-house guy who would just as soon scream at you as he would give you the shirt off his back, and Elijah, the subdued stay-together-for-the-kids front of house man, who knew everything about everyone and cared so hard he couldn’t see anyone else caring about him in return. Yin and yang. Front and back. Which are you, Mark? he thought to himself as the standoff continued.

“Mark,” Greyson said, breaking the spell, “can you handle tonight by yourself out front?”

Mark blinked, first at his boss, then at Greyson, and finally found his voice. “Y-yeah, I mean, of course I can,” he said.

“It’s a busy ndight, Grey, I don’t waahhh – ETSCHH-zue! HhhNGTSHH-uhh!” Elijah wrenched to the side to keep from sneezing in Greyson’s face – much to the detriment of Mark.

“Yikes,” Greyson muttered, watching Mark cringe against the spray Elijah directed, unknowingly, into his face. His boss flushed bright red when he realized what he’d done.

“Fuckigg shit,” Elijah murmured, yanking a tissue out of the box and handing it, lamely, to Mark. “Fugck, Mbark I’mb so sorry I didn’t meee – ETSCHH-zue!” This time, Elijah tented both hands over his face to keep from having a repeat of that incident. Greyson took his hand back then, shrunk away from the GM.

“Maybe, uh, give us a signal next time?” Greyson said, an attempt to break the tension. Mark would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel so thoroughly...infected.

“Would’ve if I could’ve,” Elijah grumbled, pulling another tissue out and blowing his nose. “Mbark, I’m so -”

“It’s fine, boss,” Mark said, standing. “But, um, I do think Chef is right – maybe you should go home, sleep it off?”

Elijah swallowed, pain evident on his face, and finally gave up the charade. “Alright,” he said, curt. “Finde. I’ll go.” He turned back towards Mark. “You’re sure you’ve got this?”

“Of course, boss,” Mark said. Elijah nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Take sombe Emergen-C or something, okay?”

“Okay, boss,” Mark said. Elijah coughed painfully into the sleeve of his shirt, grabbed his backpack, and signed out of the computer.

“I’ll drive you home,” Greyson offered, but Elijah shook his head.

“Thanks, mother, but I think I can handle a five-mbinute drive with a cold,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just mbake sure your guys are ready for tomorrow ndight – it’s going to be a doozy.”

“And that’s how we know it’s really time for you to leave, when you start using words like ‘doozy’,” Greyson said, pushing Elijah out the door. “Go. You’ve infected enough people today.”

Finally, Elijah did as he was told and left. Mark and Greyson stood in the office avoiding eye contact with each other for what felt like a long moment.

“You wanna run to the store and get some Emergen-C?” Greyson asked, breaking the awkward silence. Mark laughed a little.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling a hand down his face, “I guess I probably should.”

On his way out the back door, Matt caught the back of Mark’s shirt. “The fuck is going on up there?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “Where are you going? Did Elijah go home?”

Mark turned and embraced Matt, then pulled back to offer a small smile. “Elijah went home,” he said. “And I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Matt asked again. Mark just sighed and gave his boyfriend a defeated look.

“I’m going to try and ward off the stupid fucking front of house flu.”

[ynbabe]

TUA x Reader :- Incorrect quotes

Five: Watcha doin?

Y/N, an inter-dimentional time traveler : Stealing from the commission.

Five: Scandalous.

Five: Can I help?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Five: Are you busy?

Y/N, laying on the floor, falling from the time rip Five opened in season 2: No.

Five, trying to understand who he is and why he’s there: Want to do something?

Y/N, looking up from his own blood: Why would you try to ruin this for me?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Klaus, pointing a camera at Five and his ‘friend’: There they are, our sweet babies.

Five, holding a cigarette and a beer, Y/N, pulling out the knife Five stabbed him with and chugging wine,: What-?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Five: Y/N is not allowed to decide which one of us is the chosen one.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/N: Hey there demons, It's me, ya boi.

Five: I’M NOT A DEMON!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Diego, oldest sibling extraordinare {luther don’t count}: Christmas is cancelled.

Y/N, not a part of the family: You can't cancel a holiday.

Diego, adopted them already: Keep it up, Y/N, and you'll lose New Year's too.

Y/N: What does that mean?

Diego: Klaus, take New Year's away from Y/N.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Diego: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Y/N: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Five: if you want information it is

Klaus: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Diego, watching Y/N and Five fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they break Elliot’s stuff?

Klaus, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other... or anything else... hopefully.

Diego: Then... who’s the strongest?

Klaus: Y/N.

Five: Me.

Y/N: Me.

Y/N: ...

Five: ....

Y/N and Five: *Start fighting again*

Diego: I mean it’s kinda fun right?

Klaus: Yeah, want popcorn?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Klaus: You guys worried about Five?

Diego: Totally!

Y/N: Yeah, he teleported to me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"

Klaus: And what'd you say?

Y/N: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno."

Diego:

Klaus: He’s lucky to have you as a friend.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Five: Look guys, I need help.

Klaus: Love help?

Y/N: Financial help?

Viktor: Emotional help?

Diego: Help moving a body?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Viktor: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful broship...

Klaus: I really care about your feelings!

Diego: I really care about YOUR feelings!

Viktor, turning his head: ...and then there's the disaster couple...

Y/N: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF HIDING BODIES!

Five: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME HIDING BODIES IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Viktor: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Diego: >:O language

Five: Yeah watch your fucking language

Klaus: Okay, who taught Five the fuck word?!

Y/N: 'The fuck word'.

Sparrow!Ben, highly comercialized: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Five: Oh my god he censored it

Y/N: Say fuck, Ben.

Five: Do it, Ben. Say fuck.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

*The Squad with cigarettes*

Y/N: I smoke regularly.

Allison: I smoke sparingly.

Sparrow!Ben: I smoked once, but I didn't care for it.

Five: I've never smoked, but the idea intrigues me.

Diego: I've never smoked, and I refuse to do so.

Viktor: What's a cigarette?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Five, trying to be happier, after strict orders from Klaus and Diego: A butterfly. Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal.

Diego: Can a butterfly be nonbinary?

Five: I mean, maybe? I don't judge.

Viktor, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then-

Klaus: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back.

Sparrow!Ben: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah...

Y/N: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a-

Viktor: No, nononono. You fuckers have already shattered my dream, you don't get the fucking privilege to make that reference.

Diego: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference?

Five: You clearly have not known with the bastard long enough.

[thesirencult]

ICY DIARIES 💎 "MEN FOR THE STREETS ARE NOT COMFORTABLE IN MANSIONS"

She don't want your man, she wants to be you...

Important Disclaimer : I don't advise people to endorse in celebrity culture. I believe that pop culture serves as a way for us to explore archetypical characters, it acts as a mirror and a collective pool.

A few hours ago I came across the above TikTok.

Long story short, a well known TikToker posted a couple of videos talking about the fact that a woman should keep her job no matter what and never let go of herself, because her husband could leave her for a younger woman at some point, especially when she's older. At the same time, she took down all of her videos with her husband and some people noticed that her ring was missing. Allegedly her husband had contacted a s*x worker and was talking with her. That side piece came out and said that she was the wife's fan and well... Check out the video above for more details.

Now... Onto the main course 🍽️

You have to remember one thing and one thing only. YOU are the most important person in your life.

Many people like to point out that these "dark feminine" tips are narcissistic. If you get in an airplane crash you should first put your mask on before helping others, otherwise you will all die. That's how life is.

Don't let men and nasty women play you by telling you that your value gets lower with age. If your partner would leave you for a you get woman he is not a high value man.

Now that we got this out of the way...

We are going to talk about the SIDE PIECE. I'm one of those women who believe that a man is not an infant. He is the one who decides to cheat. Same goes for women who do that. You got to take responsibility and dive deep into your soul because something is wrong there.

BUT. There are some women who are a disgrace to our gender. They take pride in seducing men who are married or in partnerships with other women. This stems from their internalised hatred towards feminine energy.

The "side chick" caught in the TikTok, drama fell onto the net all by herself. She wanted to show her face and to be known as the women who broke the famous TikTok creator.

This women don't want your man. They want to be you. They are leeches who are looking for a way into your life, be it through friendship or through other vulnerable spots like your unloyal husband.

That's why the most important decision you will make in your life is who you spend it with. You could be the most successful, beautiful and bright soul in the world, but a man could strangle that light and destroy you. Also, don't hang around people who are fangirling over you, that's internalised jealousy (haven't you noticed fans of famous boybands ?) and avoid having weak people in your circle.

Never, ever abandon yourself for someone else.

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 3

Elliot Spencer x Reader

Chapter 1 & Chapter 2

Note: So sorry for the hiatus. Life got in the way. Thank you for sticking around and being so patient with me 💕

Word Count: ~1.9k

Description: You wake up in a comfortable warmth the morning of the wedding. This leaves Eliot consuming your every thought as you get ready.

• • •

You start to stir as you feel the light of the sun creep through the sheer curtains of the hotel room. You feel a comfortable warmth envelop you and sink further into it, seeking shelter from the harsh chill of the room.

Suddenly you feel the bed shift under you and realize the warmth you’re feeling is Eliot’s chest beneath you. His arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you close in his sleep.

A soft smile graces Eliot’s no longer sleeping face as he feels you cuddle closer to him. He knows he won’t often get the chance to hold you like this so he pretends to not notice the way you breathe hitches with every movement. He may never get to hold you like this again but he will dream happily at night at just the memory of your soft skin against his calloused hands.

You lay there, eyes now open, as still as you can and just soak in this seemingly unconscious act of affection. This isn’t like every other touch of this torturous weekend. This is real, perhaps unintentional, but real nonetheless. This isn’t for an audience, this is just Eliot holding you to him as he rests.

Sadly the moment is ripped from you as you hear your sister knock on the door to your room. Eliot pretends to startle awake and you do the same as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Y/N!” your sister calls out. “We gotta get going. The makeup artist will be at the venue in half an hour.” Eliot lays back down, now that he knows the disturbance had nothing to do with him.

You sigh and roll out of bed. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten!”

You wash your face and brush your teeth as you try to calm your racing thoughts.

By the time you leave the bathroom, Eliot has settled back in to sleep, stretching his body across nearly the entire bed. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face at the sight of the nearly always tense hitter at ease for once.

You grab your dress and the small day bag you had for the trip and close the door as quietly as you can.

***

You and the other girls are chatting in the green robes your sister gave you each as gifts. You are in the middle of getting your hair done when a text lights up your phone.

Eliot: Did your sister plan lunch for all of you?

“Ooh, you’re blushing y/n” you hear the voice of your sister’s best friend from across the room, “Texting your new man?”

The other girls chuckle and they continue to talk amongst themselves.

You roll your eyes and pretend to ignore them, but can feel the blush light up your cheeks. You show your sister the text to get her answer.

“Mom talked about running to the store and picking up salads or sandwiches later. I just don’t want anything that will upset my stomach. It’s already in knots with everything else today.” She points down the hall and adds, “There’s a kitchen through there if you want her to pick you something to make instead though.”

“Thanks,” you reply as you type out your response.

Y/n: My mom might be picking something up. There’s a kitchen in the bridal suite so we have options. Why?

Eliot: Tell your mom not to worry about it. If it’s alright with your sister, I’ll take care of lunch for you ladies.

Your sister elbows you lightly as she teases, “Do you smile like that at every text or just when pretty boys with long hair text you?”

“You should see the smile I save for spam texts” you deadpan back at her. “Eliot wants to bring us all lunch if that’s alright with you.”

“He’s handsome, has a southern accent and he cooks? Should I be expecting the save the dates when I get back from my honeymoon?” The shit eating grin on her face widens at your clear embarrassment.

“So is that a yes on lunch?”

“Yeah, and tell him I said thank you.”

The hair stylist interrupts “Alright, you’re good to go and I’m ready for the bride.”

You swap places with your sister and grab your phone.

Y/n: She said she’d appreciate you bringing food.

Eliot: Perfect. I’ll be there in 30 and I’ll make y’all something fresh.

Y/n: Thanks! You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.

Your heart sinks in your chest as you read over your own words. It is for the best to stay reminded of the reality of the situation. It would only hurt more if you let yourself get fully lost in it. In just a couple of days everything will return to normal and you’ll still be pining after Eliot and he will remain blissfully unaware.

You try to brush off these thoughts and be present with the others and most importantly, your sister. You put your phone away and rejoin the conversation. “Eliot said he’ll be here in 30 to make us lunch.”

“Damn,” your sister’s maid of honor chimes in, “Where did you find him again and does he have any single friends?”

You and the others laugh at her joke. “I don’t know, with looks like that, I’m more interested to know if he has a brother.” adds in one of the bridesmaids.

Before long the makeup artist is done with the mother of the groom’s makeup and it is your turn in the chair. You settle in and try to distract yourself from Eliot’s imminent arrival by listening to the idle conversation the other women are having.

Part of you is excited that he’s showing up, in small part due to the rumble your stomach lets out, but mostly just because it’s Eliot, and you are a fool who couldn’t help falling head over heels for him. The minutes pass as you try to calm your ever increasing heart rate, but the moment you hear a rapping at the door, your heart begins practically beating out of your chest.

The artist only has your makeup a little over halfway done, so the maid of honor lets him in.He drops off an armful of groceries in the kitchen that the maid of honor leads him to and follows her back to the room you are all in.

He smiles softly at you, which you miss completely as the artist works on your eye makeup. “Hey beautiful,” he says, setting your cheeks ablaze, before turning to the rest of the room,”I should have lunch ready for you ladies in about 20 minutes.” With that he turns on his heel and leaves the room before you have a moment to reply.

The makeup artist makes quick work of the rest of your makeup as the girls chatter around you. Your sister in the chair next to you looks over at you and teases “Damn, y/n. If that’s how he looks at you when you’re not even done being dolled up, I don’t know how he’s gonna tear his eyes away from you long enough to even notice there’s a wedding happening around him in a couple hours.”

In lieu of being able to roll your eyes at your sister, you opt to flip her off.

A bridesmaid chimes in “No, she’s right y/n. That man is absolutely smitten with you.” For a moment, you almost let yourself believe it, but you know he was just playing it up for the girls. After all, that’s what you asked him to do.

Moments later the artist wraps up and finally you are free to go see Eliot in the kitchen. You quietly approach, and of course Eliot hears your steps and knows exactly who it is, but he pretends not to notice you standing in the doorway. He likes when you watch him and maybe he knows if he took the time to look at you right now, he wouldn’t be able to resist holding you in his arms again and you leaving this morning already nearly broke him.

You take in his frame, his arms flexing under his henley as he expertly chops up the last couple of vegetables in front of him, a few strands of his hair falling into his face from his half-ponytail, and those jeans that fit his ass just a little too well for your thoughts to remain pure. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re already in love with him because this almost vulnerable sight would be enough to make anyone fall for him. “Hey beautiful,” you parrot his earlier words back at him.

A goofy, lopsided smile crosses his face, as he puts the knife down and begins assembling sandwiches. He looks into your eyes, not daring to even let his eyes drift as far as your nose. “Hey,” he almost whispers “What can I do for you?”

“You’re already doing more than enough Eliot. I really just came in here to say thank you. Not just for this,” you gesture at the food, “but for this entire weekend. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone and I really appreciate you doing this for me. I owe you one”

Returning his attention to the food he replies “You don’t owe me a damn thing sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.” He begins cutting the sandwiches into fourths diagonally, of course and you start taking them and placing them on the tray to at least help a little.

Your heart skips a beat when your hands graze against each other as he hands you the pieces that were on the other side of the knife. It is far from the most intimate touch you have had with him, but just like this morning, the private moments, even the unintentional ones, are a lot harder to brush off as part of the performance.

As you finish laying the different kind of sandwiches on the tray, he goes to the fridge and grabs a charcuterie board he had clearly made himself before you entered the kitchen. It was this sight that finally made your stomach let out a rumble. He looked you up and down before asking “Hungry?” with a smile.

“A little.” you joke in return.

He reaches around you to grab the sandwich tray. With both hands full, he leans over and kisses your cheek before replying “Then lead the way princess.”

And with that small act, clearly not an accident nor an act you were left reeling as you rejoin the others. He places the two platters on the table before “I will see you this evening, but I think your sister would be pissed if I show up to the wedding like this.”

Your sister laughs, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

With that, he takes his leave with a quick peck on your lips and a polite wave to the room. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can only hope nobody can tell.

• • •

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy@xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes @sleeplessskeleton @fablesrose

[fivedollarbankrobbery]

Stardew Valley Headcannons: First time hanging out (Bachelors)

Warnings:

Hi guys! I wanted to mention a few things. First, some of these turned out a little shorter than the others, sorry about that. Second, I am accepting requests! Rules

—-

Sebastian:

Your first time hanging out with Sebastian was impromptu

You had come over to give him a chunk of quartz that you found in the mines and found him half asleep sat in front of his computer

He didn’t respond to you knocking on his door so you cracked open his door cautiously

“Sebastian? You in here?”

When he didn’t answer again you took a step inside, any anxiety easing away as you see him passed out from working so hard

Even though his job didn’t require hard labor like working on the farm, you still felt like he deserved a break from how hard he worked on coding

With a bit of protest, you manage to get Sebastian out of the house and in one of the booths at the saloon

The two do you talk for a while, eating while gradually getting more comfortable with each other

He would talk about his programming and gaming hobbies, while you talked to him about life in the city and why you moved onto the farm

At the end of the night he would walk you to the edge of town, thanking you for helping him relax before awkwardly trying to figure out if he should hug you or not

You take the lead and hug him, feeling his body relax into the gesture as a soft smile lays on his face

Robin 100% teases him when he comes home after dark from hanging out with you

Sam:

As is to be expected, your first time hanging out with Sam was when he showed you his music

He had invited you over to listen to one of his songs, taking you into his room and setting up his guitar

It’s definitely awkward at first

I mean it’s your first time hanging out alone and it’s in his room?

Yeah if Jodi saw you going in she would exit the house immediately, thinking something else was going to happen

I mean, would you complain if it did?

After awhile Sam flops down on his bed, and the two of you begin talking about the most random things

Anything that comes to mind is discussed as the two of you quickly become comfortable in each other’s company

He invites you to stay for dinner, but you politely decline and head back home, not wanting the embarrassment of Jodi’s misunderstanding hanging around at the dinner table

Shane:

Your first time hanging out with Shane came much later than with the other bachelors

It takes awhile for him to warm up to people, especially enough to actually hang out with them

So it makes sense when he avoids your invitations with lame excuses or even straight up rejection

One day though, he feels guilty for always saying no and shows up outside your door in a tank top and shorts, asking you to teach him how to care for plants

The two of you end up working together essentially all morning, you showing him how to plant seeds properly and telling him how often to water the plants

At noon you check the time and realize how long he’s been out working alongside you and invite him into your house for lunch

He almost declines, but seeing your expectant face broke him

“Sure, yeah, why not?”

The two of you share a bit of conversation while eating, Shane becoming more comfortable with you but still not spilling his troubles to you, that would come another day

Once he leaves you find yourself spacing off throughout the rest of the day, wondering why he came around to help you, but thankful for the chance to spend time with him

Elliot:

Your first time hanging out with Elliot started at the library

You found him reading a novel in the afternoon and decided to sit across from him

The two of you exchanged a short ‘hello’ before going back to reading

You both sat there in comfortable silence for hours, so caught up in your books that it felt like you were in your own little world

After awhile though, your aching body told you that it was time to get up

This caught Elliot’s attention, his eyes glancing at you before he marks his page with a bookmark

“Care for a stroll?“

You nod, the both of you leaving the library and walking towards the beach, and in turn Elliot’s house

You thought he was going to just go in and go to bed, but to your surprise he instead removed his shoes and walked over to the shore, walking along the water

After a moment of him looking at you expectantly, you followed suit and walked along the beach alongside him

It was mostly quiet, but the sound of the waves crashing and the crickets chirping made up for the silence when the two of you weren’t talking

The night ends on a peaceful note, but the warm fuzzy feeling in your heart leaves you blushing the whole way home

Harvey:

The first time hanging out with Harvey is probably in his clinic

Not as in a patient checkup

No, you just come in to say hi every morning and decided to stick around a little longer since nobody was coming in

It isn’t like Harvey wouldn’t have wanted to hang out somewhere else, he was just far too shy to ask

Anyway, you stay there for a little while, asking him about his work and getting him to get comfortable with you gradually

It isn’t the most interesting time of your life, but listening to him ramble out answers about what certain tools are used for what and that sort of thing make up for it

Before you leave Harvey finally musters up some courage, croaking out “Hey, do you want to go to the saloon sometime? With me?”

Of course you say yes, then continue on your way, not noticing the blush that was covering Harvey’s face

Alex:

Your first time hanging out with Alex also happens on the beach

You didn’t plan it out or anything, you both just happened to go out on the same day

He “accidentally” throws a beach ball at you, using it as an excuse to come up to you

“So sorry about that man, but uhm… can I just say you look amazing in that swimsuit?”

Massive flirt

You sit next to each other on the beach for a bit, talking about anything

And eventually he gets you to come into the water, ending in a huge splashing fight with lots of laughter

It’s an amazingly fun time, and even cooler getting to see Alex’s more genuine side

[fleshbrides]

hi, it's elliot. i go by sasha now. i'm necrophiled on pinterest. i really wanted to apologize for stealing graphics for people. i know it isn't just graphics you guys put real work into it and i'm sorry for disrespecting that. i'm deleting my stolen hoard and replacing it with something else, i'm not sure what yet. i'm sorry for being so hostile i have very bad anger issues and i was upset to see a call out post on me so i wrote something out of pure impulse. i want to make it clear that i've never doxxed or harassed anyone i am very much against it . i want to make my own rentry graphics and post them on here so i wanted to make an apology before i do all that. all of you are incredibly talented and im sorry for overstepping your boundaries. you don't have to accept my apology. english is not my first language so im sorry if this doesnt make sense

@strawberrymedicine thank you for posting the callout post on me and making people aware of not stealing. no one should steal other's works. im sorry for everyone that has been affected.

[gay-transformation-stories]

The Revenge

Elliot was tired and hungry as he walked home from his job at McDonald's. He had been frying burgers and fries all day, and his boss had been yelling at him constantly. He just wanted to go home and hide in his room where he could read his comics and play Minecraft. He was a typical nerd, with glasses, small, unathletic, shy, and with a big belly. He had no friends and was often bullied by others for his nerdy ways.

The worst of all was Chad. Chad was the exact opposite of Elliot. He was at least two heads taller than Elliot, very muscular, and above all, good-looking. He was the star of the wrestling team, winner of the regional championships, and the crush of all the girls. He looked like a young god and his body was a gift from heaven. But he was also arrogant, cruel, and sadistic. He loved to harass Elliot, beat him up, take his food, exploit him as a helper, or expose him in front of everyone. Elliot hated Chad more than anything else in the world. At the same time, he also felt attracted to Chad and envied his life.

To get home, Elliot had to cross the abandoned freight yard. It was evening and it was already starting to get dark. Elliot slipped through the hole in the fence as he always did. It was a forbidden shortcut, but also the shortest way home. He always hoped that he wouldn't meet anyone, especially not Chad or his friends.

But today he was out of luck. As he crawled through the hole in the fence, he saw Chad sitting on an old freight car with his legs apart in the sunset. He was smoking a cigarette and grinning wickedly when he spotted Elliot.

"Hey, fatty! What are you doing here? Looking for something to eat? Oink, oink!" Chad jeered and laughed.

Chad jumped off the freight car and ran after him. Elliot was startled and tried to run away, but it was too late. Chad caught him easily, grabbed his neck with one hand, while taking drags of his cigarette and blowing smoke in Elliot's face with the other.

"Let me go! Leave me alone!" Elliot whimpered.

"Why should I? You're my favorite toy. I have so much fun with you," said Chad, tightening his grip around Elliot's neck.

"Chad, please stop, you know I have asthma," Elliot said, gasping for air.

"You don't have asthma, you're just FAT," Chad said with a sneering grin. His eyes were full of contempt as he said it.

Elliot wanted to run away, but Chad held him up like a puppet. Elliot didn't know how much longer he could take it, he couldn't breathe anymore. He closed his eyes and wished for only one thing: that he could be in Chad's place. That he could be as big and strong as him. That he could be like him!!

Suddenly they heard a loud shout. A flashlight shone on them. They were no longer alone in the abandoned freight yard. They were standing between the wagons on the tracks, and one of the security guards had spotted them.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT OF HERE IMMEDIATELY!! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!!" the security guard shouted.

The security guard aimed his stun gun at them. He pulled the trigger and two electric arrows shot out of the device. One hit Elliot in the back, the other hit Chad in the arm. They felt a powerful electric shock run through their bodies. They screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

Then everything went black. They both lost consciousness and fell to the ground...

Chad slowly opened his eyes and stared at the wall. He felt strange. He tried to remember what had happened. He had been holding Elliot, who was looking at him pleadingly. Then the guard came and shocked them both. Then everything went black. He heard a faint buzzing around him. He turned his head and saw a cell. He was in prison. He saw the bars that locked him up. He saw the other inmates staring at him hostilely. He saw the guard looking at him contemptuously and talking to the police.

He wanted to protest, but his voice failed him. He wanted to stand up, but his body did not obey him. He looked down at himself and was shocked. That was not his body. That was a small, misshapen body. He was wearing Elliot's clothes, Elliot's thick belly. He was Elliot!

He touched his face and felt the rough stubble. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair. He opened his mouth and saw his yellow teeth in a reflection. He was ugly.

He suddenly felt different. He felt weak and insecure. He felt helpless and small. He felt like Elliot.

He started screaming and thought: This is a nightmare. This must be a mistake. This must stop. He must get his body back. He must find Elliot and hold him accountable. Eventually, he managed to get up with difficulty. Everything was still spinning, he staggered to the cell door and started screaming, "LET ME OUT OF HERE, THIS IS A MISTAKE, LET ME OUT OF HERE IMMEDIATELY, DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM??"

Elliot also started to wake up slowly. He felt warm and secure, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. He felt the fresh sheets on his skin, he thought it was a dream. Elliot fell asleep again. It wasn't until the next morning that he slowly opened his eyes.

He looked around and noticed the many posters of naked women and race cars on the walls. Where was he?? This was definitely not his room. He was still slightly dazed and got up and went to the mirror. He couldn't believe what he saw. He was huge and muscular. His upper body was extremely well-trained and shone in the light. He wore jogging pants that emphasized his trained ass. He looked like an Abercrombie model. He looked like Chad.

Elliot touched his face and felt the smooth skin. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He opened his mouth and saw his white teeth. He was perfect.

He suddenly felt different. He felt strong and confident. He felt powerful and attractive. He felt like Chad.

He turned around and looked at his back and shoulders. He couldn't help but flex his biceps and touch his abs. He couldn't stop looking at himself in the mirror. Elliot looked into his jogging pants and was impressed by what he saw. He could hardly believe that he was now so well-endowed.

He wondered what it would be like to live in Chad's body and what it would be like to sign up for Grindr with his new body.

But how could this happen?? He remembered the incident at the freight yard and the electric shock he and Chad had received. This probably led to the body swap. Chad's family probably learned directly from the sheriff about the incident and brought Chad home immediately. He thought that Chad was somewhere in his body. And wondered what Chad was doing right now and how he was feeling in his body.

He smiled and thought: This isn't so bad. Maybe he can take advantage of this. Maybe he can live Chad's life. Maybe he can have everything he ever wanted and teach Chad a little lesson with his new body.

Several days passed without Elliot hearing anything from Chad, and he began to worry. Was the shock perhaps too much for Chad?

Elliot tried to push the thought out of his mind and enjoy his new life. He could hardly believe how easy life at university suddenly was for him. With his new godly body, he was a magnet for attention. The other students admired him for his strength and looks, and his presence in the room was simply unmistakable. Elliot enjoyed the positive looks and compliments he received from others. It was a completely new feeling for him to be so accepted and admired.

He found it incredibly satisfying how easy it was for him to shine in social situations. Suddenly, he was invited by everyone, and people seemed to be drawn to him. Elliot felt a new energy within himself, and his self-confidence grew with each passing day. Life was suddenly so much easier, and he enjoyed how easy he had it. At the same time, he tried to be nice to everyone; he wanted to be a better person than Chad.

One day after class, Elliot went to his locker to get his things. He wanted to go home quickly and relax. He had had a long and tiring day.

He opened his locker and looked for his backpack. He couldn't find it. Instead, he found a note with an ugly drawing of himself and a message:

"Hey Fatty! I stole your backpack! If you want it back, you have to meet me at the old warehouse! But be warned: I have a few surprises for you! HAHAHA! Your best friend Chad"

Elliot, in Chad's body, angrily crumpled up the note. He knew it was a trap, but he wanted to confront the situation. He decided to finally teach Chad a lesson.

He went to the old warehouse on the edge of town. It was an abandoned building that used to serve as a storage facility for building materials. It was dark, dirty, and dangerous.

As Elliot entered the warehouse, he heard a voice from the shadows:

"There you are, you loser! I've been waiting for you! Because of you, I spent the last few days in custody because your stupid mother didn't have the money for bail."

It was Chad in Elliot's chubby, small body, emerging from behind a stack of wooden planks.

He held Elliot's backpack in his hand and grinned wickedly. "Do you want your backpack back? Then come and get it!"

Chad threw the backpack on the floor and stood with his legs wide apart. He still believed he could intimidate the now huge Elliot. He still believed he could beat Elliot. He still believed he could defeat the now muscular Elliot.

The now small and chubby Chad was not stupid. He knew he was physically inferior and would have no chance if he fought fairly. He took every opportunity to surprise or confuse Elliot. He threw things at his head and sand in his eyes. It didn't take long for Elliot to lose control of the situation. He was overwhelmed; he had not expected this. He thought it would be an easy game for him in Chad's muscular body, but he was wrong.

Elliot fell back into his defensive posture from before; he froze, curled up, and hoped it would all be over quickly. But Chad was angry, angrier than ever before in his life. He kicked Elliot in the shin and then punched him with all his might in the soft parts. Elliot fell to the ground on his knees and groaned. In the past, Chad would have been satisfied with that, but not this time. Too much had happened; he had lost his body and his life to the fat nerd, and he was going to make him pay.

Chad grabbed one of the many wooden planks lying around and hit Elliot with all his strength on the back of the head. Elliot immediately lost consciousness and fell to the ground. When Elliot came to, he was kneeling on the dusty concrete floor of the abandoned factory. Elliot felt his muscles ache and his joints crack. His hands and feet were tied together with tape behind his back and attached to an old radiator. He had a sock in his mouth that muffled his screams. He was now a prisoner waiting for his torture. He couldn't imagine how he got into this situation. Chad wanted his body back and Elliot was going to pay for taking it away from him. Elliot wept bitterly, his snot running from his nose. Chad stood nearby like an uninvolved spectator with a crowbar. "Well, how do you like your new body? I have to say, you have good taste. Too bad you can't handle it. What a waste," said Chad. Elliot was terrified, he tried to scream and free himself, but it was useless. He felt helpless and alone. He wondered how he was going to get out of this situation. Elliot tried to speak, but his mouth was still stuffed with an old sports sock. Which Chad eventually pulled out. Elliot, who was almost 2.00 meters tall muscle man, began to cry: "Please Chad, please let me go, I don't know how the bodyswap happened, please Chad, you have to believe me." Chad: "I believe you, you don't have enough backbone for such an action, fatso. But I still think you're not entirely innocent. What happened at the old freight yard happened because you wanted it to." Elliot: "Please Chad, I'll do anything you want, but please let me go now. I'll really do ANYTHING for you." Elliot looked like a fighter, but he felt like a weakling.

In the end, Elliot continued to be harassed and tormented by Chad, even though he now had a muscular body. Chad enjoyed his power over Elliot and treated him like a slave. Elliot felt trapped and scared of Chad, but he didn't know how to break free. He longed for his old life back, but it seemed out of reach. Chad took advantage of the situation and pushed Elliot further into despair. He forced Elliot to work for him and to harm others. Chad used Elliot's new muscular body as a shield against others. He told him what to do and threatened to inflict pain on him if he didn't obey. Elliot, who was afraid of being hurt even more, obeyed him and helped him cover up his criminal activities. Chad knew he could exploit Elliot's fear to manipulate and control him. Chad's thoughts now revolved around Elliot's body.

He saw it as a tool to help him expand his power and tyrannize others. He became obsessed with controlling the body and using it to achieve his goals. Chad treated Elliot's muscle body like an object that belonged to him and no longer like a human being. Chad began to feel increasingly drawn to the body he once owned. He started to intensify his obsession with his old body and spent hours looking at old photos and remembering what it was like to live in that body. Chad was obsessed with how perfect Elliot looked in his new body. Every morning, he styled Elliot's hair and carefully chose the perfect outfit for him. He shaved Elliot's body daily in the shower and selected the perfect body spray for him. Chad wanted to make sure that Elliot was outwardly just as perfect as he once was. He spent hours styling and perfecting Elliot's body until he was finally satisfied. Elliot became a life size toy.

But despite all his efforts, he couldn't really hide Elliot's lack of confidence and insecurity. Elliot was uncertain in his new body and often felt uncomfortable, even though he now looked physically strong and impressive. He was afraid that he was no longer himself, that he had changed. He no longer felt comfortable in his own skin and had difficulty adjusting to his new physical strength. He often avoided looking in the mirror because he couldn't bear the image he saw. His eyes reflected this insecurity and despite his muscular body, he still seemed like a nervous nerd. Chad had been shaving Elliot daily for some time now, but something was different this morning. As he ran the razor over Elliot's muscular chest, he suddenly felt a strange tingling in his own groin. Chad had never before reacted so strongly to the touch of another body and couldn't believe he was so attracted to his own former, muscular, and masculine body. As he shaved Elliot's ass, he couldn't help but let his hands glide over the tight muscles he discovered in Elliot's body. The tingling in his own body grew stronger and he felt his heart beating faster. Chad had never felt attracted to a man before, but in this moment, he couldn't help but realize that he was drawn to Elliot's body. Chad quickly withdrew and tried to suppress these new and confusing feelings. He had no idea what was happening to him or how to process these unexpected sensations. But he knew that he was now looking at Elliot's body differently than before and that he couldn't ignore this new attraction.

The End

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #20

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: briefly mentioned past torture

Ambrose said snow would be falling soon, and Elliot was terrified. The weather was colder here than his old master’s land. The wood floors wouldn’t be so bad when winter came, but snow was snow and snow was deadly.

Once, his old master had thrown him outside as a punishment. He nearly died from the cold and ice, and had to beg until he passed out to be let back in. The doctor said it was a miracle of the gods he hadn’t lost any fingers or toes. 

Elliot had more clothes than he’d ever had in his life now, but would it be enough?

He had two blankets, woolen socks, gloves and mittens, a great big coat, everything. But the fluttering hollow of anxiety inside him wasn’t satisfied. 

He got up early, before dawn, to sneak wood into his room. Ambrose didn’t come in often, so he hopefully wouldn’t notice the pile of extra wood in the corner.

What else would he need? 

Elliot remembered the tiny closet his old master locked him in. It was the best place to be in that horrible house when snow fell. It warmed him up because it was so little and stuffy. Ambrose didn’t have a closet that was both big enough for him to sit in and small enough to trap heat.

Elliot stole a blanket from the linen closet and lined his wardrobe with it. If it got cold enough, he could hide from winter inside it.

He began to squirrel away food and water under his bed. It was bad of him, but he needed it. He couldn’t take another winter hungry and freezing. Elliot had gotten two glass jugs and filled them with water. He also wrapped up some smoked and salted pork Ambrose had stored away downstairs. He tucked several apples into a small sack, and stole a jar of pickled veggies and a tin of nuts from the storeroom. Master Ambrose had made dozens of jars and had been smoking and salting meat for ages. He wouldn’t notice anything wrong. 

___________________

Elliot thought he was being sneaky, but Ambrose knew something was off right away. It just took him a few days to figure it out. 

He was going to use those two jugs to make mead, but oh well. Elliot’s little stash was all shelf-stable, so he wasn’t going to discourage him. 

The wood wasn’t a problem either. In all honesty, Ambrose probably should do the same thing. It would save him a lot of trips outside.

Ambrose didn’t have to wonder for long why Elliot was so twitchy lately. He kept glancing out the window at the sky, poking around in the fireplaces, making hot drinks and steaming meals.

He didn’t want to think about why Elliot was so scared of the cold. Ambrose was certain it stemmed from something horrible. Elliot’s quirks were almost always some coping mechanism to avoid pain.

Ambrose didn’t know how cold it would get this year. But Elliot would be fine, even without his secret cache of food. He wasn’t going to try and talk him out of his fear, it didn’t work like that. Winter would always have some level of danger, so there was no use reasoning with him. Ambrose could only hope Elliot would relax when he realized he would be alright.

___________________

The snow fell down gently, in large flakes. It was pretty, but the bubbling anxiety in his chest kept him from watching for long. He got through his chores as quickly as possible and retreated to his bedroom.

He closed the curtains. He didn’t want to see the proof of winter looming outside. The room was warm and toasty and he was content to curl up and wait. If he had to spend all season in here, then so be it.

“Sweetheart,” called Master from behind the door, “I made some hot chocolate. I’m going to toast some marshmallows downstairs. You can join me if you want.”

Hm. That did sound pretty nice. He pulled a blanket over his shoulders and peeked out into the hall. It didn’t seem cold. 

He made his way downstairs, and there was a roaring fire in the dining room fireplace. Ambrose waved at him from a chair sat in front of the fire. He felt a little more settled, and he eyed the steaming mugs of hot chocolate and the tray of cheese and crackers. 

Ambrose was, in fact, toasting marshmallows. He ate one right off the stick, and Elliot found himself smiling as he went to sit next to him.

Ambrose handed him a prepared stick with a marshmallow on it. It was fun to toast them, and Ambrose showed him he could plop one into his mug and it would get all melt-y.

It was pretty hard to remember how scared he was when they were eating snacks and sipping on sweet drinks all afternoon. 

Maybe winter wouldn't be so bad this year.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "Hi!!! I wanted to send an ask for TDV because I literally love your blog and just noticed you started posting stuff for S.DV!!

I was wondering if we could get a Sebastian, Shane, or Elliot (or whoever you want) scenario/HC for them eating something absolutely LACED with aphrodisiacs. Like they ate a berry they passed by while walking or saw some food on the farmer’s table when they were visiting not knowing what it was.

And then after like 5 minutes of eating they’re red, sweaty, and in a new realm of horny (if you’d be willing I feel like some dubcon or whatever of them pouncing on the farmer would be really hot too 🫣🫣).

This is sorta based on another blog I saw that posts these kinds of ideas but I’d love to see how you write this !! 🫶"

I absolutely adore this idea!! I love aphrodisiacs >:3c This ended up being noncon rather than dubcon, and it got more emotional than horny especially at the end, but it felt like it fit better for the story

Content: noncon, aphrodisiac, drugging, accusations of bullying/cheating, Shane is depressed and self-loathing as usual, painful sex, vague implication of Harvey being a creep, hurt/comfort

Shane -

Thanks for bringing the chickens, they're doing really well in the new coop! Maybe you could come by for dinner and see them tonight? I should be home by 5.

"Home by five." Shane sighs, eyeing the clock as the hands slowly tick over to six pm. "Bullshit."

Patience is something his therapist has been trying to help him with, but... really, anyone would feel pretty blown off at this point. It's hard not to feel undervalued. Ignored. Worthless. Hard not to spiral into those self-loathing thought patterns. Into that misanthropic feeling that dealing with people just isn't fucking worth it.

He's trying to be good, he really is! He runs through the list of coping mechanisms and techniques his therapist has taught him to ground in the current moment rather than getting swept away by his thought spirals. He settles on mindful eating, glancing around to see what you've got. He can't go to the fridge. Not because he cares about being rude, just because the last time he'd opened it he'd been absolutely disgusted by how many jars of pickles you'd had in there. He knew you mostly kept them around for Harvey and to sell to Pierre, but that didn't stop his stomach from turning every time he thought about all those jars of pickled vegetables.

There's chocolates on your table. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off them since he first sat down in your kitchen, waiting for you to get home. The box is light pink and shaped like a heart, topped with a neat little ribbon. The horrible little voice in the back of his head whispers cruel things to him. Someone else is sending you chocolates. Someone else wants your attention, your affection. And why shouldn't they get it? Why shouldn't you be with someone else? He's got nothing to offer you. He's just a depressed alcoholic, you should be with someone more... more. Someone better. It's probably good that someone's sending you chocolates. Giving you a better option than him.

It's not quite a devil on his shoulder that makes him do it. It's just his own lack of impulse control. That self loathing spiral manifesting as destructive tendencies, or whatever bullshit his therapist would call it. He doesn't want you dating him, he doesn't want you debasing yourself like that. But he doesn't want you dating anyone else either. And given that the chocolates are still closed, and a note is neatly folded up on top of it, you haven't even seen it yet...

The chocolates are gone before he realises what he's doing. So much for "mindful eating." It was more jamming chocolate into his mouth angrily and then tossing the empty box vaguely in the direction of the trash. A small part of him is worried you'll be upset, but a much bigger part of him bitterly wonders how you'd even know. You're clearly not going to show up any time soon, he'll be back in bed before you even get home. You won't know it was him who trashed the box of chocolates. He's not even sure why he's still here, waiting, when you're obviously not coming back.

Seriously, why is he still here? Your house isn't even that nice. It's too bright and busy and hot. It's so fucking hot in here. Far more stifling than the cool fall night should be. He can feel the heat sinking into his skin. The sweat making his hands sticky and his shirt damp. Your stupid house is too damned hot. Why did you invite him here anyway? Just to humiliate him? To stand him up? He doesn't want to leave. He wants to stay until you get back. Demand answers. Find out who else you're messing around like this. Is it just him? Is he really so pathetic? Or are you doing this to the other guys in town too? Is he not even special enough to be your only target?

Maybe you're with one of them now. He can already picture it. Maybe you're drinking some wine with Elliott on the beach, laughing together about what a fool he is, waiting for you at home. He can picture it. Elliott's lips on your neck as you laugh about how pathetic he is. Elliott pressing you into the sand, the two of you stripping each other frantically, Elliott pounding into you as the two of you laugh at the mere idea that you would be into him. Or maybe you're in Sebastian's room, getting smoked out, his tongue down your throat, you riding him. Maybe Harvey's pinning you to one of the exam tables in the clinic while you scream his name. Or are you giggling under the covers in Sam's room, trying not to let his family hear what you two are up to? Maybe you and Alex—

His thoughts have strayed from the idea of you mocking him to the idea of you getting fucked by everyone but him. It's startling and uncomfortable when he realises he's hard. His cock is aching, straining against his pants. The thought of you with other men... it shouldn't be this fucking hot. His blood feels like it's boiling in his veins, jealousy and anger and self-loathing and lust all bubbling away beneath his skin. And it's all your fault. Every part of this is your fault. Your stupid note. Your stupid lateness. Your stupid box of chocolates from your stupid admirer. Your stupid smile and stupid laugh that make his heart pound.

The door opens just as his emotions reach their peak. The sight of you standing there with an apologetic smile, one hand held behind your back, does nothing to soothe him. No, it only makes everything worse. He scans you for signs that you've been with someone else, something to betray the fact that you've just been fucked sensless by another guy while he was waiting around for you like an idiot. A lingering trace of a smirk, a hickey barely poking out from under your collar, something, anything.

There's nothing.

"Sorry I'm late." Your smile wavers a bit and his thoughts begin to spiral even more. "Pierre was being a hardass about closing hours, it took a lot of persuading and... maybe a little blackmail... to get him to sell me, uh... this."

Your hand shoots out in front of you, clutching a bouquet. The frantic motion sends a couple of petals to the floor. But the heat under Shane's collar doesn't let up at your explanation. Of course you don't mean it. How could you possibly mean it? Someone else must've given you the bouquet today. You're mocking him with it. Like a preteen, pretending to ask someone out as a joke. He's the joke here. You're making fun of him, pretending to be interested. Why would you be interested in him?

And you're standing there, smiling that smile that makes his heart flip. Looking as perfect as always. Those fantasies of you getting fucked are still playing on loop in his mind as he looks at you. The way you'd look, sweaty and blissful, moaning and screaming and cumming. His fists clench and he's not sure if he wants to hit you or fuck you, but he needs to do something before all this heat finally bubbles over and destroys everything in its path.

He only gets flashes of his own actions. He blinks and his hand is wrapped bruisingly around your wrist. He blinks and he's pulling you towards your room as the bouquet falls to the floor. He blinks and your voice, hitched and teary, begs to know what's going on. He blinks and he's pushing you onto the bed with a painful sounding thud. He blinks and he's on top of you, teeth digging into your lips and hands tearing desperately at your clothes.

His heartbeat pounds in his ears, the heat soothed and stoked by the feeling of your skin on his. His lips settle into a hot, sloppy kiss. It's frantic and desperate and full of tongue and teeth. Even as you try to push against him, crying out for him to stop, he swallows each sound with a groan of desperate need. The bulge that grinds against you as he strips you both bare is hard and throbbing, hot and thick. The thought of him forcing it into you—you doubt he'll bother to prep you in this state—makes you whimper and clench your thighs.

"No."

It's barely a growl, his shockingly strong hands shoving your legs apart. One hand holds your hips down. The other fumbles to shove a few clumsy fingers into your hole. Even in his dizzying haze of rage and desire, he's trying to prep you. He's like a virgin. He doesn't seem to know how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make you feel good. But he's trying, and you hate it. Because it makes you think about how much nicer this night could have gone had you just come home on time. Between his hissed accusations, you can pick up on what happened. At least some of it.

"—course you wouldn't like me—"

"—some other guy—"

"—making fun of me—"

"—pretending you're interested—"

His self-loathing, his suspicion, his fear that all your kindness and affection is an elaborate joke. It all comes out in a flood of grunts and growls. It almost feels like your fault when he lays it all out for you like this. Like none of this would've happened if you'd been better. Had you just gotten to Pierre's on time. Gotten home when you'd promised, given him the bouquet, had time to explain yourself...

His lips are on your neck, sucking bruises into your skin on just the wrong side of painful. His cock lines up with your hole and he forces it into you, your name leaving his lips in a pained whisper. You cry out. Tears sting your eyes as he bullies his cock into you. You beg him to stop in a broken voice that hardly sounds like your own. This all feels like a bad dream. Not only for you, pinned beneath the man you were planning to confess your feelings for, feeling his cock stretch you brutally. But also for him, unable to control his actions and thoughts, body shaking as the heat overtakes him.

"—stupid fucking chocolates—"

"—so fucking hot in here—"

"—need you need you need you—"

"—hurts. Like I'm fucking dying—"

Through the tears and the pain, your mind whirrs. Something about this sounds familiar. If only his blunt nails would stop digging into your hips, his cock stop pounding into you, his teeth stop marking up your skin for long enough for you to focus. Chocolates. Heat. Need. Pain. Chocolates. Heat. Need. Pain. It connects. Somehow, you know it all adds up. This isn't the man you know, the man you spent an hour arguing with Pierre to get a bouquet for. This isn't Shane. It's—

"Fuck." Your voice cracks, back arching as his clumsy fingers try to make you feel good too. "Shane, please!"

"Need you so bad. Always teasing me. Mocking me. Behind my back, with those other guys. Why is your house so fucking hot? Why are you so fucking hot? Teasing me. Taunting me. Wanted me to fuck you, huh? Bet you wanted this."

One look in his eyes confirms it to you. He's not here. They're clouded over with lust, face contorted into a grimacing mask. A devil wearing Shane's skin like a twisted puppet. His fingers manage to fumble their way towards something akin to pleasure, your nerves sparking in unwanted delight. You can tell he's close to his end, hips stuttering and growls becoming more and more incomprehensible. It's all you can do to hold onto him. Screw your eyes shut and wait for it to end. Wait for him to be done using you.

His voice and fever break at once. Cumming inside you, face buried in your neck, sobs wracking his body. Your nails find his scalp almost instinctively, remembering all the nights you've held him like this while he was too drunk and depressed to be trusted on his own. Your fingers in his thinning hair sends a shudder of self-loathing through him. The clarity is all too much at once. He knows what he's done to you. Not why, but what. And that's more than enough to wish you'd kill him. End his miserable life then and there for what he's done. But you're doing something far worse than that. Comforting him. Whispering gentle reassurances as you hold him close. A knife to the gut would hurt less.

"What have I done...?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounds small and fractured. Like he's a kid again.

Shane's sobs quiet to little whimpers and sniffles. You can feel his tears on your neck, his now-soft cock pressed against your thigh. He shrinks in on himself, clearly not comforted by your words. You know him. Know the train of thought he's riding. Blaming himself, finding reasons that this is his fault and not the fault of whoever spiked those chocolates. It's hard to pull him out of these spirals. Even harder when the actions were his, no matter how influenced by the plant. It may not be his fault, but it certainly feels that way when he was the one pinning you down and forcing himself on you.

"Cupido appetitus." Your voice is soft, understanding. "They're... a potent aphrodisiac. They cause a sensation of overheating, insatiable lust, and can cause paranoia and dissociation. Demetrius pointed them out to me when I first moved here, warned me all about them. Said there had been the occasional... incident where they got into people's food by accident. They grow up on the mountain, anyone could've picked the berries and put them in some chocolate. "

But he's not pulling away. He lets you cradle him to your chest. Lets you coo softly to him and try to reassure him that you're not mad. And that's a thousand steps above where he was only a few months ago. None of this is going to be easy. Not for either of you. Coming to terms with what happened, with your assault and his drugging. It won't be easy at all. But at least you still have him. In your arms. At least he still has you to hold onto.

On the kitchen floor, beside the discarded bouquet, sits the note that had once been on top of the box of chocolates.

Hope you enjoy! Come see me when you've eaten them. - Harvey

[jlushie]

When You’re Sick {Stardew Valley Bachelors}

Elliott:

“Oh, my love… You’re looking pale! Please, sit down…”

Oh he is so worried :((

And he notices it like… so fast. You don’t even really have a chance of hiding it. He’s always admiring every detail about you, so even a minor change will have his attention.

If you’re insisting about work, he won’t care. You will be forced to lay down and rest. And he will not hear a no.

He will rush to go get medication for you, or food. Or really anything you need or want. He’ll go get it in a heartbeat.

And he’ll pretty much always be by your side. He’ll probably get sick too.

“Here my darling… I’ve brought you some soup. I also picked up some medication for you. Here… Try to take a bite for me, okay?”

Shane:

“Hey… You should sit down… What do you mean why? You’re clearly sick.”

He is also someone who could tell pretty quickly. But not as quickly as Elliot… And here’s why I think so:

He’s gotten sick a lot, mostly after drinking too much alcohol. After he quit though, his health has gotten a lot better. He didn’t really consider being sick, almost as if he had forgotten other people can get sick too.

But he does get the signs quickly. He just… studies you for a minute. Then its like a lightbulb went off in his head when he realizes what’s wrong. Then he says something about it.

But he’s actually very insistent on you resting! He’s more than happy to take care of you. Especially since you had taken care of him so many times.

He’s not really good at farming, but he will take care of the livestock while you’re sick. He’s better with the chickens but he still treats every animal well!

He’s also taken care of Jas when she was sick. And sure, it may be different, but it still helps just a little. He has some clarification on what to do.

“Don’t worry, the animals are all taken care of… Just rest. I’ll try to cook up something.”

Sebastian:

“Woah! Hey… Darling, are you okay?”

He didn’t really notice until you almost fell over. It’s not that he wouldn’t see it if he wasn’t distracted… He was just working on breakfast as a little surprise. Luckily, he caught you just before you hand landed onto the ground.

He felt your head, and sure enough, you were burning up. He gently carried you off to bed.

He gave you the breakfast he prepared but he wasn’t sure if you’d keep it down. He’d be thankful if it did, but if it didn’t, thats fine, there’s no need to worry. He does end up calling his mom at one point for the pumpkin soup recipe.

He’ll also take care of the farm. He might not be the best at it but he’s trying his best

And actually worries about you a lot, maybe more than you know. He’ll try to hide just how worried he is but you could probably tell.

He’ll trying to get tips from his mom along with that pumpkin soup recipe. He just wants to make sure you will be okay.

“What? No, don’t worry… I took care of the farm, and I fully intend on taking care of you, okay?”

Sam:

“Mornin’ babe! I just finished some breakfast-…! Wait… You aren’t lookin’ too good… Here, lets get you to bed.”

He didn’t really put it together for a second. But, like Shane, he also has a younger family member who had gotten sick quite a few times. And for Vincent, he probably got sick more often than Jas. Sam had watched his mom take care of his brother, and he also helped out when he could. So after a second, it registered, and he sent you back to bed.

Sam still called his mom though. She gave him some recipes and some medicine recommendations for the way you were feeling. She’d probably end up dropping the medicine off since Sam didn’t want to leave your side.

Speaking of not leaving your side, Sam is literally not going anywhere. He’d probably end up getting sick too.

The farm is left alone for the day, and while Sam would love to help, he has literally no idea what to do.

He seems calm, but you know he’s worried, probably based on how clingy he was. But he’s a little less worried then everyone else. He tries to joke around with you or to cheer you up. You being cheered up really eased his worries.

He may play calming music if your head isn’t aching.

“I just want you to get better… It sucks to see you like this babe.”

Harvey:

“Dear, I wouldn’t suggest moving… It’s pretty obvious you’re sick…”

He’s a doctor, so he notices like five times faster than Elliott.

He pretty much saw it the moment you woke up, whether that be the facial expressions you make realizing you’re in pain or maybe he noticed how your forehead was hot or how you were sweating to a concerning amount.

Like everyone else, he forces you to bed. He may be a soft sweetheart, but he will be oddly more determined and insistent on this matter.

He’s so sweet though… And he doesn’t do anything wrong.

He gives you medication that makes you feel better more quickly, he gives you ice packs or heating pads, whatever you need.

He will make you food and will make sure it won’t make you sick in any kind of way.

I’m sure he forgets about the farm. He doesn’t purposely ignore it! It’s just he’s so focused on you it’s like everything else disappeared.

He’d probably ask Mary to be in charge of the clinic. Obviously she isn’t certified in any way, but he gets her to promise to give him a call if anyone comes in. But it shouldn’t be a problem, he usually isn’t busy.

100/10, probably the best bachelor to take care of you.

“Here, this should do the trick… It’s medicine to help with your headache! Say ‘Ah’ for me, okay?”

Alex:

“Hey, I noticed you aren’t getting out of bed like you usually do… What’s wrong, baby?”

He didn’t think you were sick honestly, he probably just thought you had a nightmare or you just didn’t feel like getting up. Or maybe you were just feeling sad that day.

He never really gets sick. It kinda slipped his mind people could get sick, kinda like Shane. But when you explain what’s wrong, he is quick to get on his feet.

While you’re resting, he’ll call Evelyn for some advice. He’ll also call Haley! It might seem like a bad choice but Haley has a sister, and they’re friends! She’d know more than he would honestly.

He’ll cook you a nice breakfast, and while you eat, he waters the crops for you! He waters them very quickly though… Like you just finish breakfast and he’s already done!

He’s worried, and over a call with Evelyn, expresses his worries. She, being the innocent, purest soul of the valley, eases him though. You will be perfectly fine, and you just need rest! That calms him down, and makes him a bit chipper too! If Evelyn says you will be fine, you are going to be fine. He trusts her word.

It’s a small detail, but he like… carries you everywhere. You aren’t walking. You want a shower? Here, he’ll bring you there… Want some fresh air? Only for a second! And you’re going to be stuck in his arms.

“Don’t worry angel, grandma said you’re going to be perfectly fine! Now wait here, I’ll go run you a bath.”

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

For You, I'd Paint the World Red

Prompt: They hadn't meant to do it. They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic. But they couldn't help it. And maybe, just maybe... they were glad they did it. Or the one where MC destroys an entire coven of witches and adopts a kid on the way.

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TW: Arson, implied child abuse, please let me know if there is anything else I should add.

AN: Is it just me, or does anyone else get frighteningly vivid dreams that they turn into fanfics so they can share this weird cocktail of feelings and emotions with everyone who's interested? This is very self-indulgent, btw. I just want MC to be allowed to go crazy sometimes. Feral even. We believe in murderous MC supremacy in this house.

Elliot Crowe belongs to my absolute darling of a friend @doodlboy <3 thank you for letting me use your mc in this little thing. This will also be a series of sorts, so please look forward to that ^^

"This is the last one MC."

(e/c) eyes looked up at the sorcerer. Elliot smiled, earning a sigh of relief in return from Solomon's prized apprentice. A very tired, ready-to-fall-asleep-standing apprentice.

"I'm glad," they yawned, stretching their arms over their head as they followed him to the transportation array. "I swear, once I'm done, I'm heading to back home and sleeping for the next three weeks."

"You've certainly earned it," the man hummed, offering his hand, like the gentleman he was. The two stepped onto the array, Elliot activating it with a simple incantation.

A few seconds later, the pair found themselves in front of the last coven's mansion. The massive structure was creeping into the nearby forest, where the younger of the two could make out glowing spectres darting through the trees.

"Tastefully decorated," Elliot remarked, drawing their attention back to the imposing building in front of them. It looked like a normal mansion, from what they could see; nothing particularly stood out a first glance. But there was a slight feeling of difference, something only those sensitive to magic would notice. They had been getting this feeling at nearly every coven they visited.

MC was glad that these visits to the supernatural were once every twenty years. The aim of these 'inspections' was to make sure that the other supernatural members of the world upheld their end of the various treaties and contracts signed by them with the Sorcerer's Society.

MC had met Elliot a few times before through Solomon. Elliot Crowe was the apprentice of one of Solomon's old friends, and almost like a son to the white-haired man. This meant that the sorcerer often checked up on him, resulting in the two young humans bonding over the woes of apprenticeship and making fun of Solomon's age, much to his chagrin.

This friendship was what lead to the two pairing up when the audits were announced. Elliot and MC were chosen to inspect the covens of witches who practised magic under the Sorcerers Society's careful supervision, both major and minor.

All those they had visited up till now were incredibly interested in helping humans at best, and wanting absolutely nothing to do with anyone outside their coven at worst. Either way, it was a somewhat ideal first time doing this for them, even if it was a bit tedious.

They weren't kidding about sleeping for 3 weeks. Belphies pact mark was glowing faintly, almost as if recognizing their wish to indulge in his sin.

Elliot cleared his throat. His eyes locked onto theirs, an uncharacteristic seriousness in them that startled MC enough to chase away their fatigue momentarily. A shiver went up their spine as they felt him put up a magical charm to avoid any eavesdroppers from hearing his next words.

"The coven we're inspecting now," he began, his tone low and firm, "is the one the Society is most wary of, MC. The witches here are known to have made and to look for ways to make, pacts with a large number of demons."

"While most of their pacts are lesser demons, they have a contract with someone rather important in the Devildom. Someone you know quite well."

They didn't have to ask whom. In all the their years of staying at the Devildom, they knew only one notable demon who had a pact- wait, contract?

Elliot seemed to have sensed their confusion as he clarified, "Despite what many think, Mammon didn't actually make a pact with the witches. He signed a contract, presumably one that acts almost like a pact and has nearly the same pull. For what, nobody knows."

They did. They knew exactly why Mammon signed such a disadvantageous contract. But it wasn't their place to spill his secrets. Instead they asked, "Does the Society know what are the conditions of the contract?"

"No," Elliot frowned, his displeasure on not knowing more showing clearly on his face. "No, they don't. The covens are entitled to privacy and secrecy when it comes to things like contracts with demons as long as they're not wreaking havoc on humans. As long as no humans are hurt, the Society mostly lets them be." His voice drops down to a whisper, even though there is no chance of anyone overhearing them because of the charm he'd cast earlier. "But recently, there has been a large number of missing human cases in this area. And well, this particular coven has always been a little shady."

"That's rich, coming from you," MC snorted, elbowing Elliot lightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Elliot graced them with an exasperated smile. "Very funny, but that's not the point. Now listen carefully. Once we go inside, I will need you to distract them-"

"... Don't tell me I have to dress in drag and do the hula.."

"As funny as it would be, no. Make small talk, use some of your 'little human' charm on them," Elliot hummed. "Whatever you need to do to make sure that you are the only one they pay attention to. Make it seem like you are novice to all of this, as unthreatening as possible. Make them underestimate you."

"Hm. Sounds like something I can do."

"Good. I'll try to slip away unnoticed at a point to actually investigate, so don't worry if you can't see me."

"What do you want out of this Elliot? Or more accurately, what does the Society want?"

"Some proof that their suspicions are right about the coven." A reason to exterminate them went unsaid.

"Alright. I'll do my best."

"You always do."

"And this, is our archives. Please come in, dearest sorcerers."

MC took a big breath and did as they were told, quickly stepping into the room. Their jaw was aching from the dopey smile they had plastered on ever since entering the premises. Just a little longer, they thought to themself, thinking back to how they had lost sight of Elliot halfway into their tour, the coven head not even realizing.

For a coven potentially doing shady things, they sure were lax with their security.

Melvara, the coven head, finally seemed to notice Solomon's absence. "Um, where is Sir Elliot, if I may ask?"

"Oh, he said he needed to use the restroom. He'll be here soon, but wow! This room is huge!" MC grinned, spinning lightly in place as if trying to take in everything. Truthfully speaking, it was not much. They lived in the Devildom with 7 very wealthy brothers, a demon prince who took pleasure in spoiling his friends, and a demon butler who was more attentive and observant than anyone they had ever known. Their mentor was arguably the best sorcerer alive, if a little eccentric, and they had endeared themself to even angels. Needless to say, they were spoiled rotten when it came to once in a lifetime experiences.

Thankfully, Melvara seemed to buy their act, giving them a proud smile. "I'm glad you think so. Now, how about we have some tea while we wait for Sir Elliot to come back? The archives are the last stop before the Forest of a Thousand Spectres, after all."

They hummed, sitting down at the seat offered to them, eyes still taking in everything down to the last detail. Elliot's words had assured them that this would be one report that would require them to go into heavy detail.

The door to the archives opened for the second time.

(E/c) eyes turned to the witch that entered the room, head respectfully bowed and voice reverent as she presented them with tea and snacks. They gave her a sweet smile, watching in carefully veiled amusement as she blushed and nearly spilled the hot beverage. It was cute how a simple smile was enough to put people at ease. After a few hurried apologies and not-so-subtle glances at them, the witch left the room. For a few minutes, there was blissful silence.

"Say, sorcerer MC?"

"Yes?"

"Pardon my forwardness, but I had heard that you have pacts with all seven of the avatars of sin?"

MC hummed, a pleasant smile on their face. "I do," they said, noting the interest in her eyes. Melvara leaned slightly forward, her eyes gleaming with something that made them pause for a second. Right, don't underestimate the other party, they thought to themself chidingly.

"An admirable feat. May I be so bold as to.. offer you some advice?"

Did they really look that gullible?

"Of course, I would love to learn from my elders."

They hadn't meant to do it.

They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic.

But they couldn't have helped it.

Not when Elliot burst into the archive room, eyes filled with disdain and murderous intent; holding an unconscious girl in his arms. A very familiar child, one they had yet to meet face to face but had seen plenty of pictures of.

They watched with dark satisfaction as flames engulfed the accursed manor and the forest around it. Screams of the witches stuck inside echoed into the darkness, and MC instinctively covered the ear of the girl who now lay in their arms, still unconscious. The few who had no hand in any of the heinous crimes their brethren had committed cowered somewhere behind them.

The Forest of a Thousand Spectres never looked as hauntingly beautiful as it did now.

A hand on their shoulder had them instinctively cradle the girl closer to their chest. A side glance at Elliot, who had the same blank look on his face. "You can go home MC. I'll report this myself," he said, voice barely above a whisper but firm. Not a suggestion then.

MC nodded, the only indication that they had heard him. Elliot sighed. "What.. are you thinking of doing about her, MC?"

"I'm taking her home."

"She's is the only living witness to the atrocities this coven committed. The Society will wish to talk to her."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Another sigh. "Very well. I'll see you after I've reported the incident and" -he looked over to the terrified witches, the innocent ones, who shrank away the moment his gaze was placed on them- "taken care of them."

"Sure," they said, tearing their eyes away from the flames for a just moment to watch Elliot teleport himself and the witches away, presumably to the Society's headquarters.

They did the same moments later, appearing in their room. MC carefully lowered the girl onto their bed, gentle hands adjusting the blankets to offer comfort and warmth. Satisfied with their work, they pulled a chair close to the bed and sat on it. A breathless chuckle escaped from their lips as they felt the slight trembling in their hands. Their eyes scanned the teenager, sleeping soundly under Elliot's recovery spell.

The fact that a simple recovery spell made her fall unconscious spoke volumes about the pain she had suffered.

MC brushed a strand of hair away from her face, vaguely thinking about Mammon's reaction when he finds out exactly what the sweet little girl had been through. They stole another glance at her, then picked up their DDD.

S.S Audit Stuff (Lucifer, Solomon, Elliot and you)

You: Lucifer. Solomon.

You: We need to talk.

You: Meet me in my room.