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clip-the-simp · 1 month

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A Logan Holiday

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word count: 2,536

Cw: slight proofreading, fluff, slight angst, winter holidays, language, alcohol, talks of war (?), this really is just kinda fluffy.

Summary: The reader tried to find Logan to celebrate the winter holidays. She finds him isolating himself from the festivities but doesn’t allow him to sulk in peace.

A/N: I got the writing bug and it’s for Logan. 7 year old me should NOT have been so down bad for this man but she was. But I guess that’s what happens when you have raging parental issues. Enjoy this very out of season dribble.

The air had chilled from the winter that settled in during December. Snow dusted over the grounds of the Xavier Institute as it fell softly from the sky. Most of the children had gone home for the winter break but there were always a few that stuck around the mansion. However, even with many of the school's inhabitants gone, the halls were still lively with the holiday spirit.

Gambit along with Rouge were busy in the kitchen whipping up treats for everyone to enjoy. Their laughs could be heard from the hall as you passed which filled your heart with warmth.

Jubilee tasked herself with the responsibility to run through the mansion halls and decorat to her heart's content. She had nearly ran into you multiple times from not paying attention but it was understandable. Her and Kurt had challenged one another to see who was the better decorator. And from the look of things Jubilee was going to win this one.

Jean and Scott were busy putting up a pine tree in the massive living room. The tree towered over everyone who stood near it but that just gave ample opportunity for decorating. Scott of course took the lower branches while Jean used her abilities to fly to the top. Presents laid under the tree for everyone who stayed for the winter and it brought a smile to your face as you thought about all the love that filled the school.

Leaning against the door frame, you couldn’t help but think about how much you would enjoy spending this time with Logan but he was nowhere to be found. He had run off that morning and you couldn’t track him down. You knew he didn’t like the holidays but you wish he wouldn’t run off like he did. There was a hand suddenly on your shoulder that forced you out of your thoughts. Startled, you jumped around and found Ororo behind you. She looked just as shocked at your reaction as you were.

“Wow now it’s just me.” She reassured you with a smile. Having taken her hand off your shoulder, she returned it to her hot coffee mug that was in her other hand. You let out a sheepish chuckle as you caught yourself.

“Sorry Ororo. Been a little in my head this evening.” You leaned back against the door frame and continued watching as Jean placed the star at the top of the tree. Ororo hummed an understanding note with a nod.

“You’re worried about Logan, aren’t you?” She questioned as she took a slow sip from her drink. You gave her a weak smile at her acknowledgment. Everyone knew you were close to Logan, but no one knew just how close.

It was a one sided kinda love. The two of you had lived through the same worldly events. With every war you had found your way back to him. Although he never had noticed you. Your role was always that of a medic and since Logan never needed medical attention he had never taken notice of you. Sure there were many occasions he would bring a fellow soldier back from the battlefield, bloody and barely holding on to life, but he never stayed long. Through every war you had been there to watch him and his brother fight both on and off the field. When a war would end the two of you would part ways for the time, but war never changed and it always brought you back.

During the Vietnam war however was when you thought you lost him forever. After Logan’s brother Victor had killed a commanding officer they were sent to be executed. You knew it wouldn’t work but there was still a pain in your chest from knowing you wouldn’t see Logan again. That was until many years later when Scott had hauled Logan’s limp body into the institute which caused your heart to seize in your chest. But even with Logan being so close now you didn’t dare confuse that love you still felt for him. Not only because of your cowardice but also due to his lack of memory. There was no chance you would pursue what only you could remember of him.

So you decided to build a new. Scrubbing your memories of the old Logan for ones to make with the one standing today. He was still mostly the same gruff man you knew, but he no longer remembered what all had happened to him. With those thoughts floating though your head you shook them away to bring yourself back to the moment. Ororo looked at you with a soft smile and gentle eyes.

“How did you know?” You asked jokingly as you crossed your arms over your chest. Your smile became more stable as you straightened your posture. “You haven’t seen him have you?”

“Not since this morning. But Charles may have better knowledge of his whereabouts.” She offered before stepping through the large doorway. You watched as she settled herself down on the couch in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled and kept the room warm despite the large windows that covered most of the walls in the room.

Deciding to take Ororo’s suggestion you went to find The Professor. If you remembered correctly he and Hank had settled into the library to play chess while reminiscing on the past. Making your way there you bumped into Kurt who teleported right in front of you causing him to run into your chest.

“Oh, sorry! Gotta run! Can’t have Jubs beat me!” And with that he was gone in a flash. A chuckle left your lips as you made it to the library where you found Charles. The men sat at a table with a chest bored in front of them, but as you entered both raised their heads to look at you.

“Hello professor, I’m sorry to bother you but have you seen Logan?” Your words came out more rushed then had been intended but you were starting to get antsy. He couldn’t have just dropped off the face of the earth. All the vehicles were still in the garage so you know he was here somewhere.

“I haven’t my dear. But we both know how he gets around the holidays.” The Professor informed you with a wariness in his voice. Charles was the only one to know of your history with Logan and understood your care for the man. You let out a sigh as another attempt to find Logan failed.

“I know. But Thank you Professor, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. See ya.” You bid farewell to the two chess players before walking to your room. It was almost driving you mad trying to find Logan. Deciding to take a break you went to your room to change and grab the gift you had for the Wolverine. You had been walking around the mansion in your sweatpants and a festive long sleeve shirt but decided it was time to take the search outside.

As you finished changing into your jeans and put on a jacket over your long sleeve you looked out the window. When looking outside you’re immediately greeted with the pond, but if you look farther you can see some of the trees that scatter the grounds, limbs bare of leaves. In one of those trees you had spotted a shadowy figure amongst its branches. There was no doubt in your mind who it was. So in a quick fashion. You laced up your shoes, grabbed the gift off your night stand, and ran out the door as you tucked it into a large inner pocket of your jacket.

The air bit at your exposed skin as you stepped out. The snow was still falling steadily to the ground as you found yourself outside. Not wanting to get your shoes to wet you formed a small disk of light particles and jumped on.

Your mutation allowed you to manipulate atoms on a subatomic level which you used to your utmost advantage. But you never used them in the ways a villain would, only ever utilizing them for shield defense or healing small injuries on others.

Maneuvering the disk under your feet you made your way over to the tree Logan resided in. It didn’t take long before you were at the base of the tree. Dissolving the light you had used leaving you standing in the snow behind Logen, you stared up at him.

Logan’s face was lit only by the full moon that hung high in the sky, casting a glow over his features. His brows were furrowed while deep in thought as he slumped over the tree limb he was perched on. You couldn’t help admiring him even if he seems upset. Taking a moment to clear your throat you began to speak.

“Mind if I join you?” You heard a grumble from the man as he registered your existence. Taking a moment to unslouch his shoulders he looked down at you .

“I just can’t seem to lose you can I?” Logan gruffed as he watched you summon another disk to lift you up into the tree. His eyes trained on your every move as you plopped down beside him on the sturdy branch.

“You have no idea.” You retorted as you let your legs swing back and forth. He raised his eyebrow at that remark which caused you to pale slightly. “Why don’t you come inside? It’s a lot warmer and you wouldn’t be alone.” You quickly changed the subject back to your mission. A slight growl left Logan’s throat as he slumped back into his previous stance.

“That’s why I’m out here, kid. I want to be alone.” His eyes became fixed on the vast yard that laid before him. The snow was building steadily over the grass as the temperature continued to drop.

“Well that’s too damn bad.” You informed him which only caused his brow to furrow deeper. His leather jacket tightened against his back as he inhaled. Logan knew you weren’t going to just leave him. No matter how mean he got or how unsavory, you stayed. He never understood why and figured he never would.

“But since you’re not going to come in,” you opened up your jacket to pull out the present. He turned his attention back to you and his eyes widened just a fraction. “here. I got you a little something.”

It wasn’t wrapped due to its odd shape but you figured he wouldn’t mind too much. As you handed it over he took a moment to examine it. On an overnight mission in Ireland Logan and yourself had found a local pub. He wasn’t too picky when it came to his whisky but you couldn’t help notice the way he enjoyed this particular brand.

So on the last day of the mission you had wandered back into that same bar and bribed the bartender to sell you an unopened bottle. You were lucky to not have been caught with the liquor on your way back into the institute.

It clicked in Logan’s head instantly as he turned the bottle over in his hands. The Amber liquid sloshed steadily around the glass as he turned it. You watched as he examined it, slowly starting to become self conscious of the gift. His silence wasn’t helping either. The cold had started to bite through your jacket causing you to pull the zipper up your neck. Your gaze fell to the ground below as you started to ramble.

“I saw how you enjoyed it while we were in Ireland so I just thought-“ you were cut off as Logan pulled you into his side. His hand rested on your waist as he brought you closer. The warmth he radiated through his own jacket soothed the chill that had begun to settle into your bones. You looked up at Logan a bit astonished and found he was already looking at you.

“Thank you.” He said simply. There was a genuine appreciation in his tone which caused your face to warm. He was so close which sent your system into overload. Your body grew hot as a spark shot up your spine from the contact.

“No problem.” You replied with a slight shake in your voice. Logan’s grip on your waist disappeared as he shuffled beside you. Too focused on the loss of contact you were startled when his jacket was draped over your shoulders. The smell of his cigars and a lingering scent of pine filled your nose. You couldn’t help tucking yourself further into the warm leather, pulling your arms through the sleeves.

“Thank you. Guess my jacket wasn’t as thick as I thought it was.” You sheepishly admitted. Logan let out a chuckle before placing his arm back around you. His other hand still gripped the bottle of Whisky.

“You should get back inside before you catch a cold.” He warned, his thumb slowly rubbing your side. You let out a chuckle before poking at his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving without you.” A smile bloomed across your face as he let out a sigh. He knew you weren’t lying when you said that. There had been many occasions you had done it before, he both loved and hated that about you. With a grumble he removed his arm from around your waist and jumped down from the tree.

“Come on then.” He said before placing the bottle of whisky in the snow and reached a hand up towards you. A look of skepticism passed over your face as your head tilted to the side.

“Are you going to catch me?” You couldn’t help but ask. There was no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t. Logan never deliberately hurt you, except for a few times during training. But you had asked him to not hold back, so he didn’t.

“Always.” Logan reassured you with a smile across his face. The branch wasn’t too high up but it would still hurt like a bitch if you landed wrong. So with cautious movement you pushed yourself off and within seconds you were against Logan’s chest. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you flush to his body.

You didn’t want to let go. It felt so right being this close to him in his embrace. However you knew that moment had to come to an end. He put you down so your feet were on solid ground before turning to pick up the whisky bottle. Your grip tightened on Logan’s jacket as he began to walk toward the mansion. You summoned one last disk before gliding beside him. Hovering off the ground you were now eye level with Logan.

“I knew you’d come around.” You leaned in to elbow him, he was so easy to tease. Sure Logan had a bad temper and an even worse past, but even with his gruff exterior he was a sweet guy underneath. As much as he didn’t want to admit it. He looked over at you and placed an arm across your shoulders. Hand resting on your shoulder and giving a slight squeeze.

“Shut up.” He grumbled.

#x men #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writers on tumblr #female writers

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jawdzzzz · 5 months

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Emotions Legacy Challenge:

Dive deep into the world of feelings with The Sims 4 Emotions Legacy Challenge. In this unique and engaging gameplay, your task is to build a family legacy that explores the vast spectrum of human emotions across generations. Each generation focuses on a different emotion, challenging your Sims in unique and impactful ways that shape their lives and the lives of their descendants. Packs Required: Base Game Expansion Packs - Get To Work, Get Together, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Seasons, Get Famous, Island Living, Discover University, Eco Lifestyle, Snowy Escape, Cottage Living, High School Years, Growing Together, Horse Ranch, For Rent Game Packs - Outdoor Retreat, Spa Day, Vampires, Parenthood, Dream Home Decorater, My Wedding Stories Stuff Packs - Spooky Stuff, , Vintage Glamour, Moschino Stuff, Nifty Knitting, Rules: - Lifespan - Normal - Custom Content & Mods Allowed - No Money Cheats Allowed -You don't have to complete all tasks if you don't want to. Make it your own but it is highly advised you do all the tasks considering this is a challenge and you'll get the most out of it - Each heir including the founder must closely represent their assigned emotion as much as possible including the colors, house, appearance, etc - If you decide to do this challenge please use the #emotionslegacychallenge so i'll be able to see your founder and heirs' stories! - If you're planning on streaming or uploading videos of this challenge please promote me or give me a shoutout - Attributes help get your sim in their emotion or are special interactions you can do to make your sim feel like their emotion ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gens: Gen One Happy: You're the founder of the legacy. You grew up in Pleasantview and you're looking forward to your life as an independant adult! You're a very positive, bubbly and happy person. You never go a day without smiling and laughing. You thrive for having that white picket house on elm street and living a normal happy life! You're seeking fun, a career in your passionate hobbie & settling down having children.

Colours - Green & Yellow Traits - Childish, Cheerful & Art Lover Aspiration - Painter Extraordinaire World - Willow Creek

Complete the Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

Have the Homey, Natural Light & Sunny Aspect lot traits

Have the Simple Living lot challenge

Perform 20 gigs as an artist freelancer

As an adult quit and join the gardener, education or painter career

Achieve level 10 in the painting & parenting skills

Achieve at least level 5 in cooking & gardening

Live with a roomate for 2 sim weeks

Have a best friend & 3 good friends

Live in a starter home for your young adult life (as an adult till death live in a two story family home worth more than $75,000)

Always have and maintain a healthy garden

Fall in love & marry a homeless sim

Adopt a dog or rescue a stray dog

Volunteer & donate to charities once a week

Have three children, your second child is your gen two heir… Maintain a difficult relationship dynamic with your second born & a close relationship dynamic with your first & third born

Emotion Attributes:

Cheerful Vlog (The More Views Video Station)

Heartfelt Compliment

Brighten Day

Happy Text Another Sim

Cheer up at least 3 different sims from a sad mood

Maintain & have a healthy garden

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gen Two Sad: You're the second born and get constantly overshadowed by your older and younger siblings. Your parents love the rainbows and sunshine whilst you prefer the cold wet weather and getting your rainboots all wet and soggy. Crying is how you comfort yourself... Oh and music, you love music. Music is your escape from your reality and is what you most relate to Colours - Blue & Black Traits - Gloomy, Music Lover, Cat Lover Aspiration - Musical Genius World - Oasis Springs

Complete the musical genius aspiration

Reach level 10 in piano & violin

Reach level 5 of cross stitching & knitting

Have the Great Acoustics , Cat Friendly & Cat Hangout lot traits

Join the entertainer career (musician branch) reach level 10

Runaway from home as a teenager & move to an empty lot (off the grid)

Live in a trailer/caravan as a teen. Build a tiny home as a young adult when you own $10,000 or more

Rescue a stray cat and bring it home as a teenager

Busk for tips playing piano & violin your whole teen years

Find a penpal, later make them in CAS & fall in love with them

Own at least three cats & be close with all of them

Perform at all talent shows

Have one child only

Emotion Attributes: Sad Vlog (The More Views Video Station) Express Melancholy Thoughts (Private journal) Water Plant with Tears Play with Emotion (Violin) Call Sadness Hotline (Phone) Blog About Feelings (Computer) Give Yourself a Pep Talk (Mirror) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Three Fear:

Your childhood upbringing was difficult, your gen sad parent was always spiraling in sad breakdowns & always being gloomy. You're a paranoid sim, just thinking about the littlest things in life you fear the present & future. Reading books would help distract your mind & sleeping with a night light on helped comfort you from the darkness of the world... You also fear of the monster hiding under your bed. You hope to one day be an inspiring author and protect other sims from the fear of... FEAR. Colours - Purple & Black Traits - Paranoid, Loner, Perfectionst Aspiration - Bestselling Author World - San Myshuno Goals:

Achieve level 10 in writing & logic skills

Complete the writer career Author Branch

Complete the bestselling author aspiration

Have at least 4 fears (you can choose whichever and to overcome whichever fear you want)

Have the Quake Zone lot challenge

Have the Good Schools, Science Lair & On Ley Line lot traits

Have a girlfriend/boyfriend in high school

Move out as a young adult with your high school sweetheart any apartment you can offord

Become pregnant and have twins

Have your high school sweetheart tragically die after 1 sim week of moving in (you choose the death)

After their death, change the lot type to needs tlc

Be a strict parent & set a curfew for your twins

Never fall in love again or go on dates as a young adult. Eventually find someone that opens yourself up to the potential of having another love as an adult (marriage is optional)

Write novel about losing your soulmate & finally let go

Emotion Attributes: As a child experience the monster being under your bed

Always sleep with a night light on

Experience paranormal activity at least once

Hide Under The Covers (bed)

Take a Panicked Poop (toilet)

Scream incoherently at other sims --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Four Anger:

You grew up with only one parent, the one parent you were stuck with was always so paranoid and scared of the littlest of things. You never understood them, if anything just thinking about their choice of living makes you.... ANGRY. You growing up with only one parent makes you angry, your sibling makes you angry, your family home makes you angry, a fly buzzing at your face makes you angry. Anger is all you have, you don't envision yourself being anything without it, you would simply just float away. Working out & being a heavily opinionuated public speaker in debate is how you cope and manage your volcanic erruptions. Colours - Red, Orange & Black Traits - Active, Geek & Hot Headed Aspiration - Bodybuilder World - Evergreen Harbor Goals:

Master the fitness & Research and Debate skill

Complete the body builder aspiration

Achieve level 5 in mischief, charisma & video gaming

Have the Volcanic Activity lot challenge

Have the Bracing Breezes, Mean Vibe & Gnomes lot trait

Create a gym club & gather least once a week

Join the athlete career & get to level 10 in the bodybuilder branch

Join an after school activity in high school

Skip class and get detention at least once

Get into 5 physical fights & win

Go to university and graduate with a degree in Biology

Join the debate guild & win a debate

Juggle two different relationships in university and choose your one true love before graduating

Have 2 children

Emotion Attributes: Provoke Chew Out Insult Face Denounce Friendship Rant and Rave Vent Shout Forbidden Words Belittle Anger (Child and Teens only) Frenzied Kiss (resembles Passionate Kiss) Sarcastic Compliment Attempt To Flirt Belittle Anger

Angry Vlog (The More Views Video Station) Angry paint (easel) Rage-Fueled Run (treadmill) Angry Poop! (toilet) Enraged Reps (workout machine) Kick Down a Trash Can (trash can) Scribble Furiously as a Teen (Private Journal) Blow Off Some Steam (punching bag) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Five Disgust: Low qualiy items Ughhhh.... Insects.... EWWW.... Townies fashion choices AHHHHHHH! You're gen five disgust and always are craving high quality, bougie outfits & compliments. You want to be an icon & live in the biggest, most fanciest & of course cleanist mansion in all of Del Sol Valley. You avoid getting poisoned socially & physically at all costs! You're out to shape shift society and smack down a celebrity plaque of your own with an iron fist Colours - Green, Purple & Brown Traits - Squeamish, Neat, Snob Aspiration - Mansion Baron World - Del Sol Valley

Goals:

Achieve level 10 in the wellness & charisma skill

Complete the mansion baron aspiration

Complete the style influencer career (any branch)

Have the Creepy Crawlies lot challenge

Have the Celebrity Home, Convival & Romantic Aura lot traits

Create at least 3 fashion looks on Trendi as a teen

Own a fashion boutique & get it to 5 stars

Give at least 5 sims a makeover at the styling station

Become best friends with a celebrity & enemies with a celebrity

Become friends with 5 celebrities

Go for a manicure and pedicure at least once a week

Have two or more outfits for each clothing category *

Maintain a healthy lifestyle (eat healthy & exercise)

Have a house of staff (either butler, maid, gardener, chef or all) to maintain your house to perfection so it's neat and tidy

Reach at least 1 million simstagram followers

Become a 5 star celebrity & place your celebrity tile at Starlight Boulevar Love Story (Young Adult): You applied and won to be the next bachelorette

Live in a manor with 7 men, women or a mix of both for 7 sim days

Connect and speak to all 7 sims, go on group dates, speed dates or 1 on 1 inclusive dates

After 7 sim days choose the 3 sims you have the closest relationship with either friendship or romance

Go on vacation with those 3 sims and dedicate 1 day to each of the 3 sims

After the third day make your choice of who you want as your lover

Move in together, get married & have 4 children --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Six Envy: You're heavily inspired by your parents lifestyle, you crave the attention they receive, you crave their hair, you crave their wealth, you crave... Being them... wanting to be them... No wait.... BEING BETTER! You're wanting to be... BETTER! You're jealous & insecure of your parents success and want a lavish lifestlye of your own starting from the ground up. You want a penthouse uptown and to become known for not being the offspring of a celebrity.... But being your own celebrtiy

Colours - Celeste & White Traits - Ambitious, Materialistic, Jealous Aspiration - Fabulously Wealthy World - San Myshuno Goals:

Live in the fashion district as a young adult

After aging to an Adult move to an uptown penthouse

Become a Freelance Fashion Photographer & complete 10 gigs

Hire a professional photographer and do modelling at least once

Join the acting career and reach level 10

Complete the Fabulously Weather Aspiration (without using parents money)

Have the Pricy, Penny Pixies & Natural Light lot traits

Have a close relationship with gen 5 disgust

Master the media production, acting & photography skill

Become a 5-star celebrity & place your celebrity tile in Starlight Boulevard

Become friends with 2 celebrities before becoming a celebrity

Get in a relationship with a celebrity before becoming a celebrity

Have 4 children like your gen disgust parent --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Seven - Embarassed You tried living up to your grandparents and parents reputation and celebrity status but you struggled.... Struggled hard. No matter what you do you always seem to do it wrong or get judged. You're the blacksheep and misfit. You slip up quite a lot so you distance yourself from your immediate families lifestyle and look elsewhere... Or should i say hide elsewhere.

Colours - Pink & Yellow Traits - Clumsy, Socially Awkward, Cringe Aspiration - Master Mixologist World - Brindleton Bay Goals:

Master mixology, pet training and bowling skills

Reach level 5 of handiness & woodworking

Master the Culinary Mixologist Branch

Have a difficult relationship with your gen six Envy & siblings

As a teenager create a bowling club & go bowling with your friends

Have all friends have a cringe or socially awkward sim trait

Adopt or rescue a dog & cat

Have the Homey, Training Ground & Peace and Quiet lot trait

Have the Gremlins lot challenge

Complete at least 5 of these:

Walk into someone having woohoo

Get reject to prom

Have a dance battle

Pee yourself at least once

Sing karaoke poorly once

Get rejected from proposing

Walk into someone whilst they're peeing

Create 5 embarrassed vlogs

Emotion Attributes: Ask for reassurance Self-deprecating joke Share insecurities Have a cry (children and teens only) Laugh at Embarrassment (children, teens and unfeeling sims only.) Activities Hide from everyone (bed) Give yourself a pep talk (mirror) Tell self-deprecating jokes (social interaction) Hide in the trash can (children only) Confess Embarrassing Moments (private journal—children and teens only) Discuss Embarrassing Mood Embarassed Vlog (The More Views Video Station) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Eight Bored (Ennui) You're easily bored... You think life is boring and you're boring. Everything is boring. You succome to boredom and get consumed by boredom. You're always contemplating what to do and before you know it it's 5pm and you haven't done any chores or maintained yourself... Video games take up too much of your time, you're a gamer who has more interest in the games they play rather than their own life the SCI-FI genre has consumed you... Until one day.... You seek adventure like your favorite video gaming characters and crave the impossible!

Colours - Grey, Dark Blue & Black Traits - Lazy, Slob, Glutton Aspiration - Computer Whiz World - Windenburg Goals:

Reach level 10 in programming, video gaming & rocket science skill

Build a rocket and travel to sixam

Complete the computer whiz aspiration

Reach level 10 in the Scientist Career

Have the Filthy lot challenge

Build an underground secret headquarters

Live in a rundown filthy house as a Young Adult (grow a trash plant and have a cowplant as a pet)

Make your house modern as an Adult

Go on vacation at all possible destination worlds you have

Go to all the festivals in San Myshuno

Have a pet raccoon

Marry & have 3 children with an Alien

Have Gen Nine as a science baby

Emotion Attributes: Suggest fun activities Complain about boredom Discuss Bored Mood --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Nine Surprise THERES A PARTY.... WHERE? AT MY HOUSE! YOU'RE ALL INVITED..... WHERE? AT MY HOUSE! Party party party! You love to party. You're a bull of energetic energy. Your parents life was always so boring at first, you don't want a waste a single minute of life... You want to have fun, fun & more fun. You hope to live your life to the fullest and enjoy different elements! Turn up the volume to 100 and lets get cracking! Colours - Yellow & White Traits - Goofball, Dance Machine, Insider Aspiration - Party Animal World - Chestnut Ridge Goals:

Have the Party Place & Clothing Optional lot trait

Sneek out of your family home at least once as a teenager

Throw a teen party (try not to get caught by your parents)

Own a pet horse and become best friends

Master the comedy, dancing & dj mixing skills

Play guitar as a hobbie

Make your earnings by doing comedy at longues or dj mixing at dance clubs for your whole sim life

Get gold in every party event that is visible (not including the wedding party events)

Woohoo at every possible woohoo location

Create a club gathering with your siblings & friends and go clubbing at least twice a week

Have 2 children --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Ten Guilt: Your parents were too busy partying and living their life to the fullest that they unintentionally didn't spend enough time with you. Without learning morals, boundaries, rights & wrongs you decide to make a go of it yourself. You think "why settle for less"... "why only have one thing when you can have both". No matter how many excuses you end up giving yourself though, you can't help but feel guilty.... Colours - Orange & Brown Traits - Kleptomaniac, Hates Children, Noncommittal Aspiration - Serial Romantic World - San Sequoia Goals:

Acheive level 10 in Law Career - Judge Branch

Complete the Serical Romantic Aspiration

Master the mischef, charisma & singing skills

Have the Cursed lot challenge

Purchase the street gallery, make paintings and mark up the price to 300% to scam townies least once

Take a selfie before breaking up with every relationship & display the selfies on the wall

Serenade all your relationships at least once

Live in a rental containing at least 4 units

Steal an item from each unit

Earsdrop, Snoop for Secrets and break into each unit least once

Blackmail a sim at least once

Get married to a sim that lives in the same rental

Have a one time secret affair after getting married

Have 2 children, 1 with your secret affair being a spellcaster --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Eleven - Hate What is there to love? Your parent has destroyed the normal family dynamic. Love at times can entrance but it doesn't stand a chance. It only leaves to heartbreak. Your heart is broken. You were never shown love, except for it to be used and taken away from you. All you have is hatered... Hate for everything and anything. You relate to your sibling with you both being pulled into a dark void, you've both reached the precipice of darkness and have been consumed. If you both couldn't have love than why should others, it's time to destory happy endings together as a dynamic duo.... Did someone say two heirs in one?

Colours - Black, Purple & Red Traits - Mean, Evil, Unflirty Aspiration - Villainous Valentine World - Forgotten Hollow or Glimmerbrook Goals:

Have one Join the criminal & the other the secret agent career

Have the Vampire master Pipe Oragan & Vampire Lore & the Spellcaster master the Medium skill

Have one complete the Villainous Valentine Aspiration & one complete the Public Enemy

Have the On a Dark Ley Line, Registered Vampire Lair & Vampire Nexus lot traits

Have the Cursed lot challenge

Have both sims fail in one relationship each

Breakup with a sim on love day

Convince a sim to breakup with another sim

Have a total of 10 enemies (5 for each)

Have an Atrocious reputation & throw a Lampoon Party

Have one turned into a Vampire & earn the master vampire title and have the other turned into a Spellcaster & earn the Rank 6 - Virtuoso After they both reach their mastered title choose 1 twin to be the center lead

Turn a townie into a Vampire or Spellcaster (depending on which sibling) & move them into your household

Form an Enemies to Lovers relationship with them --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Twelve - Love You're the last heir. The last of a family lineage of a variety of different emotions. You're the final straw... The last page of the book. Love is the most powerful thing in the world. You think to yourself "how does someone evil create something so good... unless". You believe in self love and for everyone to have the ability to love and find redemption. You seek to have that classic fairytale and live happily ever after with your soulmate.

Colours - Pink, Red & White Traits - Romantic, Generous, Loyal Aspiration - Soulmate World - Tartosa & Henford-on-Bagley Goals:

Complete the Interior Decorator Career

Master the flower arranging skill

Complete the Soulmate aspiration

Have the Romantic Aura, Child's Play & Great Soil

Have a close relationship with all of your siblings

Have a childhood crush & seperate best friend

Always celebrate love day

Have one pet mate & have a puppy/kitten

Attend the wedding of at least one sibling

Attend the wedding of your childhood best friend

Get engaged to your childhood crush at the romance festival

Throw all wedding party events

Go on a honeymoon with lover

Have 5 Children As an Elder:

Master either cross stiching or knitting

Move to Henfod-on-Bagley and build a Cottage Home

Befriend a wild rabbit & fox

Have chickens, sheep, goat, cow & ilama live on your lot

Grow a money tree

Have at least one grandchild and be close with them

Bond with siblings & rekindle with your gen dark parent

Die peacefully as an elder

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There you have it, Congratulations! You have completed my emotions legacy challenge. I created this legacy challenge all by myself so i hope that this challenge has given you all motivation, satisifcation & enjoyment. This challenge was inspired by inside out which is one of my favorite disney pixar films. Please let me know how you found playing this challenge and give me any feedback you may have for ways i can improve or if there is something i need to fix!

Feel free to find my socials: Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/jawdzzz

Youtube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjBjFUvYYlD4pSMRCSdDi5A Twitter - https://twitter.com/Jawdzzzz Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/jawdzzzzy/?hl=en Tiktok - https://www.tiktok.com/@jawdzzzz #sims4 #thesims4 #sims4legacychallenge #jawdzzz #sims410genlegacychallenge #the sims legacy #challenge #twitch #ts4 #ts4legacy

#sims4 #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 10 generation legacy #ts4 simblr #the sims community #simmers #sims 4 simmer #twitch #streamer #jawdzzz #the sims #inside out #inside out 2 #emotions legacy challenge #sims 4 emotions legacy challenge

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vermont-writes-fanfic · 2 months

Text

Her Special Maid

Prologue Chapter~

Request:No

Chapter: Prologue

Warning: An unnecessarily indepth description of how to make bread the medieval way, not much else

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu

A/N:I plan on making this into a series, I’m not to sure how it will go but fuck it, I have it taking place about a full year before anything with Ethan even begins to enter the question though so that’s why there will be little to no mention of him

A/N 2: This is a prologue so bare with it please!

Directory: Prologue (you are here), Chapter 1

You’re life in the village is by no means a hard one, Mother Miranda had blessed the village well and you and your family are devout to her and the four lords she appointed to help sustain the village. As a child, you had often wondered about the large castle that stood strong and resolute beyond the village, even more so about those who lived in it. You had read the tales of princesses and royalty living in buildings like this, however no one would answer you when you asked about it, they would just steer you away from it with weary looks cast towards the grandiose building.

As you grew older, you grew bolder and wandered closer to it, as if testing the castle to tell what secrets it held that kept everyone so on edge. Any time you could, you would sneak away from your duties in the house to venture further and further out, and that was when you met your first Lycan up close and personal. You had fled home unharmed but severely afraid. After that, the castle interested you much less.

It wasn’t until you fell ill with an affliction that no doctor could cure, that you first got a glimpse of what truly took home in the castle. You had been laying in bed running a fever and in and out of a stupor, when the sound of a carriage could be heard passing by. Your mother roused you from bed and forced you to stand beside your father as two carriages passed by. The windows to the carriage were heavily curtained but a pale white hand had reached out from behind them and you swore you saw golden eyes staring right back at you, but your father pressed your head down nearly taking your sick body to the ground.

After this, your curiosity had once again been piqued by the strange castle. If only to keep you from going closer to the castle, your mother told you it was where one of the four lords of the village lived, and that she had a penchant for taking young girls. You assumed this was true for the lost part, the last bit seeming more like something you tell to a child instead of a teen, however you were satisfied with they answer gave. As the years flew and your mother grew weak, you had to focus on taking over the small bakery your family ran. You learned the tricks of the trade out of a large recipe book that had been passed down from generation to generation filled and crammed with different kind of recipes, the alterations made, the exact rations, and everything else anyone aspiring to take of the business would need to know.

One morning,while you are trudging through the snow, you find a small box with a simple lock keeping it closed. Not wanting the snow to damage it or someone else to take it, also being curious yourself as to what is in it, you take it.You continue on your way back to the bakery and set it in your room in a raggedy but clean towel to dry so the wood doesn’t become soggy and damage the inner contents of the box. Now that you’ve set it down it’s clear to you that this is no ordinary jewllery box or otherwise. It’s ornatley decoratated and has a crest you’ve never seen before. Silver pegs at the bottom in each corner of the base stand the box up and pop against the deep dark slightly red of the wood. The wood it;s self is nicely glossed and clearly well cared for, however the dust in places that had not been disturbed by the snow and cloth shows that it’s old. You take a small handkerchief and wipe away the dust before inspecting it further.Silver vines with leaves trail up the lock which is split in two pieces to allow the box to open.Rumaging through a couple of drawers you finally find a old bobby pin your mother used to pin up your hair when you were a child, upon finding you slide it in and jiggle it around finding the right spot until you hear the click. As you open it, the gleam of the candle light reflecting off of what must be a pure silver locket slightly blinds you. It’s heavy in your hand and the locket it’s self is even heavier than the chain. Curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you snap the locket open. Inside is a worn picture of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled black hair, dark lipstick, and a gorgeous white dress, beneath and on either side of her are younger ladies who must be the womans daughters. None of them aside for the girl with the lightly brighter hair had a smile on her face, even then it was barely there. Feeling guilty for taking something with a clear sentimental value, you shut it and replace it in the box as it was, before shutting the box which automatically locks with a click.

You set it in a special drawer of your dresser, and head out tying up your hair to begin baking for the day, after all you were already behind on the bread that needed to be baked and if you didn’t have enough for the day you’de have to make more mid-way through which is no small feat. The day is relatively uneventful as you go about your daily routine, you take the flower you had bought from Mr.Bruner the week before and add water and bear to it along with a little yeast and begin to knead it.After thirty minutes you let it set working on several more large batches before shaping it into loaves of bread. You set out a stone slab over the fire and set several loaves down waiting for them to cook. This process is repeated from the point the sun is peeking up from the horizon, to the time it is placed a quarter of the way in the sky. The smell of fresh if slightly stale bread floods the house as well as the noses of passersby in the village. It isn’t as if you have much competition in such a small village, your family is the only bakery in it after all. With the bread done and baked, your younger brother takes to selling and keeping an eye on the front as you head back into your room to stare at the box. What if you were accused of stealing it from someone in the village? Who do you know would even have money enough to have something like this made? A thought passes your mind and you, for a moment, contemplate it before making the decision to see the merchant everyone had been to, aside from yourself. Running a bakery with a sick mother is stressful enough as it is so you never had time for anything not already planned out.

You have a bit of free time now, and he was on a path you liked to walk when you weren’t so weary of the Castle and haven't had the time to walk until now. You slide on your thicker boots and a cloak before leaving the back door and walking down the dirt path along the tree line. Here, most of the people in the village couldn’t see behind the line of houses and question where you are going. It was better this way, no one in the village has anything even remotely close to this value and the picture would give away that it doesn’t belong to you. A caravan comes into view near the front of the castles at the corner where the two dirt roads meet. As you stop in front of it, the doors swing open and a large man kicks his bare feet out pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Well hello there! I trust you are the baker's daughter, what brings you so close to the castle? Is it me, perchance?” The Duke greets you, though you are easily distracted by the trinkets on either door he had opened as the clink.

“Miss?” He calls out to you again an amused smile on his face as you look at his wares with blatant curiosity and wonder. Hearing this, you snap your eyes up at him and shake yourself out for the distracted daze you were in.

“My apologies, yes I’m here for you. I found this box,” you pause and take the box from its cloth confines, “have you seen anything like it?”

Immediately his interest is piqued and he scoots forward leaning down to gently take it from your hands and inspect it further. His eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin as he sets it back down.

“Oh no, I’ve never seen something like this…but I do know who it belongs to,” When he says this your eyes lift back to him from the box where they once were. He leans back into his seat before rocking forward to peek around the doors of his home, an arm pointing to the castle before the two of you.

“The Lady Dimitrescu, that box most certainly belongs to her.I’ve only seen products from her castle use such ornate silver designs. And the crest, is hers.”

Hearing this, you turn to look at th castle, what you thought was fantastical and large from afar, is imposing and intimidating now as it looms over you. This would be a place wear one of Mother Miranda’s appointed lords would stay. Could you maybe leave it at the doorstep, or give it to him and have it returned to her that way? The thought of entering the large castle had once entertained and excited you but now it fills you with dread. What if she thought you stole it? Your mother had told you that young ladies went missing to the castle many times , and that your best friend was suspected to have been taken there as well.

“Do you plan to give it to her yourself?” The Duke questions, a brow raised, that amused smile never quite leaving his face as he watches you.

“Y-yes, it’s only right it’s returned to her…” Even as you say it, your legs seem to dread the thought of moving closer. The Lord were made to protect the village, surely one wouldn’t harm you…right?

You shake your fear from you, your father had always told you that being a coward even as a woman would lead you nowhere in life. You turn to the Duke and thank him for his help, before walking on shaking legs towards the door of the castle. Underneath the terror and anxiety, your beating heart quickens for another reason, your strides quicken and you bite you lip to hold back the excited smile that twitches at your lips. Even through the fear, you might be able to enter a castle. A real life castle, and one that you had always hoped to enter. Mother had always warned that your childish curiosities would get you hurt, and you pray to Miranda that she is wrong. In no time at all, your eager legs have carried you through the snow to the door of the castle, and you give a timid if excited knock. After a few moments, your apprehension grips you, and you think to leave it at the door. Just as you turn around, the massive doors open and the warmth of the inside beckons you. Against your better judgment, you walk through the large doors which quickly shut behind you.

End note: Let me know what you all think it would be really appreciated

Total Word Count: 1959 words

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lumismuseum · 2 months

Text

🏛️ Cuddling with Dan Heng in a Hot Spring

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

✨ FEATURES ; gender neutral reader, physical intimacy (bathing + cuddling naked), fingers in mouth (not in a kinky way -_-), nudity, cuddling, fluff?, reader is not the trailblazer

📜 NOTES ; no smut, might have made some stuff up about vidyadhara but f it we ball, slight ooc Dan Heng, idk where I got this idea from, how many times can I use the word comfort in this

You’re sat on a rock at the edge of the spring, eyes closed as you listen to the faint rush of a waterfall in the distance. The cool stone on your back contrasts with the warm water submerging your lower body as you lean against it.

It was rare for you to get a moment of total peace and quiet, making you appreciate it more when it came. The birds sing to each other as you silently enjoy their melodies too.

The spring has been a place you’ve secretly been desperate to visit since the Express arrived on this planet - a hidden oasis offering you complete serenity, somewhere to wind down and recover from the chaos of your recent journeys.

You sigh as your muscles finally relax fully, feeling all the tension exit your body. The faint pain from your latest battles begins to disappear completely, getting washed away in the warm water surrounding you.

Slowly, you feel yourself drift off into unconsciousness - the comfort of sleep embracing you. In your near-asleep state, you fail to register the black-haired man behind you, some 20 metres away.

Dan Heng needs this. He sees the clearing that holds the spring - the destination that he longed to visit. Whilst on his way to the spring, you somehow manage to cross his mind.

He secretly yearns for you; your voice, your smile, your touch…

But he could never admit his feelings to you, he tells himself. Neither you nor him seem ready for a relationship, and he has no guarantee that you even feel the same way. Still, he can’t stop his heart from searching for you everywhere he goes, despite his brain’s efforts to get over you.

He reaches the spring and quickly halts at the sight he’s greeted with.

Your still body, leaning comfortably against the solid rock whilst everything below your shoulders is submerged in the water of the springs.

Dan Heng’s eyes dart over to your clothes, which have been neatly placed on a separate rock that’s within arm’s length away from you. He feels his face heat up as he fidgets with his white coat, flustered.

Internally, he has a slight panic. You seem unaware of his presence, and he wonders whether he should leave.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud bird call, which disrupts your peaceful state. The bird calls again, seemingly closer this time but still hidden away, and you turn towards the direction of the sound.

Unfortunately (or possibly fortunately) for Dan Heng, he happens to be standing in that direction and your gaze lands on him on the edge of the spring. His breath hitches as you both lock eyes.

You’re not surprised to see Dan Heng come to a place like this, nor are you that bothered by his presence. Even if you were the type to be shy about showing a lot of skin, your body is underwater anyway, so there is nothing for the man to see.

You smile warmly at him and gesture for him to join you in the spring, before turning back and closing your eyes again. You feel it’s best to give him some privacy when he strips down.

After a few moments, you hear a soft splash from behind you as Dan Heng drops into the spring. You keep your eyes closed and your head turned away as you wait for him to approach you, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

You feel a presence behind you, and finally open your eyes and turn to look at Dan Heng. You can’t stop yourself from grinning as you take in his beauty.

His dark hair slightly ruffled and damp at the ends, occasionally dripping water onto his face; his blue eyes accentuated by the sparkling water around you; his pale skin glistening under the sun and from the water drops that decorate it…

He blushes as your eyes wander down his frame, and when you look back into his eyes again they are focused elsewhere.

“Hi.” Your voice is soft yet stable, relaxing him a little.

Dan Heng’s eyes come up to meet yours - a cute smile creeping onto his face.

“Hi…”

Ten minutes later, you find yourself holding Dan Heng’s hand under the warm water, gently stroking the back of his hand. He’s chatting away - now complaining about March as you sit quietly, letting him uncharacteristically ramble on, only speaking to encourage him to keep going.

He’s in his vidyadhara form - you don’t quite remember when he changed, but you took it as a sign of him being comfortable and so didn’t say anything for fear it would ruin the moment.

As you admire his side profile, you feel your eyelids become heavier as tiredness begins to take over. After a moment of contemplation, you slowly rest your head on Dan Heng’s shoulder.

He abruptly goes silent and you hear his tail swish rapidly underwater.

“What’s this…?” he giggles.

“Just keep talking, handsome,” you whisper, loosely wrapping your arm around his waist, over his stomach.

He lets out a shaky gasp and his tail accidentally whacks your arm amidst its overwhelmed thrashing. You stroke his waist with your thumb, calming his tail.

After his silence continues, you lift your head up and look at him - his face now covered in a deep pink blush.

“What’s wrong?” You’re now moving your whole hand up and down his small waist, trying to reassure him.

“I-I just…” he stutters, wide eyes darting between yours. “I’ve never been touched like this before…”

“That’s okay, Heng,” you reply, ceasing the movements of your hand and setting it on his lower waist, dangerously close to his behind which causes his tail to go haywire. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, meanwhile his tail presses against your hand as a means to keep it there. “Please…”

You smile at him and lean in to place a gentle kiss on his neck. His breath hitches once more. You resume your light stroking of his waist and bring your other hand to rest on the inside of his thigh closest to you.

“[N-Name]…” he whimpers, sniffling.

You whip your head up and are greeted by a teary-eyed Dan Heng looking back at you like a frightened animal.

“What’s wrong?!” you ask, worried you did something he didn’t like.

The dragon-boy opens his mouth to speak but seemingly can’t find the right words, instead opting to bury his head in the crook of your neck. You remove your hand from his waist and bring it to the back of his head, rubbing it and whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Dan Heng struggles to respond to your cooing, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he continues to sniffle into your shoulder. A few tears fall from his eyes as he becomes flooded by his emotions. He feels embarrassed letting someone see him this vulnerable, but he can’t help it.

For so long he was trapped in the shackling prison, away from any sort of warmth or love, seen as a traitor by his own people. And now, here you are, treating him as if he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen, consoling him as he cries for the first time in (what might actually be) forever.

You run your hands through his hair and rub his back with your other hand. You give another loving kiss onto the top of his head and secretly relish the small whine it brings from him.

After a few more deep breaths, Dan Heng composes himself and sits back up. You cup his beautiful face in your hands and carefully wipe his tears away with your thumbs. You kiss his nose before quietly encouraging him to tell you what’s wrong.

He sniffs again, his doe eyes finding comfort in yours.

“It’s just a little overwhelming,” he mumbles.

You nod in understanding and keep caressing his cheek with your right thumb, bringing your left hand down to hold the curve of his waist. Suddenly, there’s a subtle shift in his facial expression. He looks down at your thumb and opens his mouth.

After a moment’s hesitation, you slowly bring your thumb down to his lips. You push it further into his mouth until you’re grazing the top of his teeth. You pay particular attention to the larger canines he bears.

You know what he’s doing. You’d read in the archives that vidyadhara like to engage in intimate activities with another. Touching another’s teeth was a particular favourite of the species since a vidyadhara’s canines were slightly sensitive.

You lightly drag your thumb along his bottom teeth, gently rubbing his canines when your thumb reaches them. Dan Heng’s eyes close, his shoulders relaxing as he leans into your touch.

Then, you retract your digit from his mouth and return it to his cheek. He opens his eyes and looks into yours again - his expression silently showing his gratitude for your action.

You kiss his forehead before laying your head back down on his shoulder as he slumps against the rock. He rests his head on top of yours as you intertwine your hands together.

You don’t know if Dan Heng will be uncomfortable with this when you two awaken, but all you can do for now is provide some love to him that he has secretly been dying for.

#danheng #dan heng #danheng x gender neutral reader #danhengil #gender neutral reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #lumismuseum #gn!reader #gn reader

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ravenempress101 · 4 months

Text

He wants it all /Choi San words: 1.3k

⛔️Rating: M 18+⛔️

☣️ Warnings ☣️ :description of a males size, forceful grabbing,body fluids, humping, rough talk, daddy kink, very filthy stuff, smut without a plot

⛔️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!⛔️

Authors note: omg y’all my first ateez imagine yes I am back it’s been a while like years back I will definitely write for ateez if you love this imagine definitely read my other stuff I love you and always love y’all thank you and enjoy my inbox is always open

Choi San’s fingers gently grazed the soft skin of your neck as they slowly trace upward towards your ear. His chocolate orbs laced on your boba ones r/n saw the glimpses of venomous plus anger and a hint of betrayal he hated that you did this to him.

As his hand binds you down y/n tries and lift up. San slams you back down on to his bed his weight crushes every curve. y/n seeps out a moan of pain. San tilted his head to the side a sinister smirk plastered on his dimples

“I want all of it” venomous spat into the shell of your ear, “even the part of your soul that leaves your body.” brown eyes drawn your fragile features y/n head turns side to side tears welled as she felt him grew underneath him.

San enclosed his calloused fingers squeezing just hard enough that Y/n couldn’t breathe in. vision is blurred

“Please,” Y/n gasp out. “Please.”

His hand tightens more, all air supply escaping y/ns petite frame. My hands scrabble at his arm, trying to pry it away.I’m helpless and I know it, I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I can feel the panic rising.

And then, suddenly, he releases me. Air rushes into my lungs and I gulp it greedily, sucking it in, desperate for oxygen. Coughs erupts its way upon my lips

“This moment will always be my favorite…. “you and me”

San dangle is finger on the tip of my nose lightly flicking it while he’s lose in my attributes.

“I have you all to myself.”

His calloused palms slither over your skin, warm from the evening sun, and find that place where the muscle curves out into a ridge, his finger trails over your bare nipple Your breath hitches , arching against san like He pulled a string that connects you to every part of your body. Your chest is smooth. The browned haired man trace a circle around one of y/n’s aroused nipple.

Her body fidgets underneath San. The musclier man gazed at your other nipple his eye contact strong not leaving your gaze his mouth fell agape over your other nipple as his long tongue meets your erected nipple and he licks long strokes and your nipple wiggles inside his warm heartshappes. Y/n groaned came out like a symphonic siren. San love having you stressed with his mouth. Y/n’s body heated up and her love box dripped between her legs. Sans friction causing her to feel him grew another inch.

San traced lower toward your skirt. Y/n’ chocolaty love handles appearing from sans hands as he lifts your skirt. Your drenched wetness exposed infront of him. A growl escaped from his big muscular built. His finger found the side of your pantie and placed it to the side. He forcefully tugged on your pantie and the undergarments fell in one smooth motion.

Y/n gazed at the man that wanted all of her as she gripped the covers.

“I’ll do anything please leave…” y/n was muffled by his rough lips plastered and there tongues met and his muscle fought for dominance his cold finger ran across your fold and then a gasp was eating by him He dipped his slender finger inside her deep. San wiggles inside her as his tongue shoved down her throat. Y/n tasted his peppermint tongue.

San pulled back from your tired lips and his chest flourishing with a deep laugh at how pathetic he made you look.

“Sweetheart you are doing everything to me, just look at how your body reacts it knows that it’s mine”

Y/n whines from his statement as San keeps you spread on the bed with his strong bicep his head guided down with his brown locks intertwined on his forehead by droplets of sweat decorating him

His face inches away from your heat. Y/n feels his icy breathe sweep her clit. Y/n felt his animalistic mouth connect with her fold and she jolted up trying to run from his lips but his hold latch on to where she stoped his hand grabbed her ankle and placed it on his shoulder as his tongue fell deeper in her. Drawing figure 8’s in your forbidden nectar. Y/n could feel the euphoria sending for her. Performing a strangled high pitch scream.

“San it’s so much, mhmmm ahhh why does it have to be me”

San heartshappes was slurping at an alarming pace that she clenched on her bottom lip. He lingered his tongue in your drenched hole accelerating up and down. Your chest rising and falling from his speed. Your mouth screamed his name from the arousal you were trying to die down.

He felt inside you twitch. The tanned man knew your body all to well knowing your high was about to crash on you, withdrawing his tongue out of you and placed a airy kiss on your folds, wrapping his rough hands around your legs forcing you closer as he towered over you.

“Mhmmm this body is about to be marked and the soul I want”

San positioned his hand on his shaft massaging himself up and down. Y/n tried to move from his bicep but he captured her body in his and his hands spreaded her legs and he positioned himself at her wet entrance and plunged inside her.

Y/n felt how enourmous he was inside her. Him filling her up she tried adjusting to his size, her orbs shut closes as he moved out and slammed back in her. Her body short circuit making her arms fly to his arms as she tried pushing him but her mouth fell open in a o shape as he accelerated again inside her. He picked up his pace and his eyes fell on her aphoristic features. Her cheeks rising hot and dark at the animalistic speed she felt in her.

“Oh I’m about to cum nuhhhhhh San please slow down please”

Her soul was leaving her body after every stroke and push San plunge in her spongey insides.

“That’s it my baby girl give it all to me”

San placed her hands above her head and fell on the side of her neck. His kisses biting your neck as blue and red beauty marks appeared on your soft spots that he sucked and teased.

Y/n moaned his name as his strokes siren her high. Y/n felt her body’s fluid spray out on his length and The robs of her arousal leaked out on him as he felt her scream from her oragasm. His smile appeared on his face as he felt your warmth pulsate on him as your cream painted his length.

Then his torso flexed and his length twitched inside of you and out came his robes of creamy cum while booming a curse. y/n felt her hole fill with his warm sperm.

San seeing you filled with him inside yourself made him satisfied his sperm spewing out of you

“Sannn ughhh lord freak I can feel it all”

Y/n groaned as her body jolted more as globs leaked out. Y/n could feel all the burning and pain he caused her. The time they met and all she felt every feeling crush her.

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v01dcha0s · 1 year

Text

Working with Demons - version for busy witches

I want to preface by saying that I'm slightly fed up with the witchcraft community puting a lot of pressure on other (often beginner) witches to devote themselves 24/7 365 day in a year for their craft. I mean, if that's what you want then be my guest but there's witches like me, who are very busy with everyday life stuff to the point where it's not manageable for us to do rituals etc. everyday.

Since I'm currently working with demons, I'll focus my post on those beings but the info here could be applied to any beings if they agree to. What I mean is that, spiritual beings are often very considerate about our human life and they want the best for us so unless they want you to work with them everyday and stuff, you can be chill about your craft.

Anyway.. info here is based on my experience and relationship with Demons so it might not apply to you :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.

Most of the times Demons just want to have someone they can turn to. From my experience, they're already busy with their own stuff and humans for them are purely ment for energy exchange (this is another topic I might make a post or a video about lol). Many practiconers are working with Demons from different grimoires purely to get something from them and that's completely ok. When you choose to work with a Demon purely for quick things, you can make any kind of offering, ritual or ask them in astral projection and they can decide by themselves wether to help you or not. What I don't advise (but you still can do it if that's how your believe system works) to use any rituals from Solomonic magic (the list of demons is ok, idk about sigils I always felt guilty if I had to use them) as they're very hmm.. mean to Demons I'll say. If you want to summon a Demon and force them to do stuff for you then whatever you do you but I like them too much to do that to them. LeVeyan rituals are iffy for me but I heard they work as well. Whatever you want to gain from Demons, you have to remember that they have their own free will and they often don't care much about humans. This practice is very busy ppl friendly as it doesn't require you to do much.

But what if you want to have a longer connection with a Demon? Well, it's ok for you to not work with them 24/7!

Firstly, Demons don't have to choose you, for you to work with them. Really. That's bullshit. If you want to work with a certain Demon, make an offering and ask them. It's like, asking someone to be your friend. They can agree but they can also disagree, so be prepared for that. I haven't reached out to a Demon first so I'll say more on what to do when a Demon does the first step lol

So, it's somehow easy and not easy at the same time. When Satan first approached me, I mistook him for Lucifer (which I heard is very common). Recently I made a contact with Furcas and it was also very surprising to me, since I wanted to see Satan in the first place. Sometimes a not very known Demon will reach out to you so it's harder to gather info on them. So yeah, how to work with your Demon buddies?

Talk. Just talk to them. It's so simple but it works amazing. Talk not only to them but about them to other people. Don't be afraid to tell what they said to you or did (unless the Demon doesn't feel comfortable with you sharing something, please respect them). They love that since they have a bad reputation to many people (just don't be pushy about your believes). Plus talking is not very time consuming as you can do it anytime. Talk about your day, about your problems and just how you are. They listen trust me. If you want to listen to them, take a pendulum, tarot cards or any mean of divination you like and ask them, about their day, how they are, how they see themselves, you, and other Demons. This can take like few minutes or an hour but it's something that's not very time consuming imo.

For offerings. Candles. They love a good candle. You can write their name, sigil on it and decorate it. Use the color they like and herbs you have on you hand. I mostly use cabbage thistle (as it's been using by my grandmas for cleansing) and achillea but whatever you have on hand will work. Another one are crystals and incense. Ask them what they want and give it to them. Simple and effective.

Astral projection is more time and energy consuming so do it when you feel like doing it. Rituals are the same.

So to end the post, I just want to say that Demons (and most of the beings) understand that you are busy or struggle. If you struggle with mental or phisical health and you don't have time to work with them, treat helping yourself as an offering. Really. You're wellbeing is also important to them and should be to you. Take your meds, go to therapy or a doctor and also, they can help you with your problems. Don't beat yourself over the fact that you don't have time, if you really don't have time and energy. It's ok trust me.

#magick #witchblr #witchcraft #witch tips #demonolatry #demonology #satanism #occult #satanic #furcas #satan #spiritual satanism

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reputationbarbie · 9 months

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❝the thunder❞

A/N: thank you to everyone for sticking beside me and my foolishness this past month. i just had to see it through. I've had this idea for a while of a tandem read with two of my fics so here you are. This fic starts 4 months before all-american bitch and there will be crossover chapters and characters once they're on the same timeline. this also isn’t edited so ignore any mistakes. enjoy ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: welcome to new york.

Chapter Warnings: sexual assault & r@pe (mentioned), revenge porn (mentioned), language, alcohol and drugs (there's a party), symptoms of anxiety, depression, and body dysmorphia.

Key Tags: frat boy harry styles, fratrry x college f!oc, harry styles x f!oc, frat boy x sorority girl, fake dating, revenge, fish out of water - f!oc, ugly duckling - f!oc, golden retriever x black cat, instalove, fluff, flirting, angst, friendship, eventual established relationship, eventual smut, original character, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, harry masterlist ⋆ Spotify Playlist. ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

⋆ word count: 6.5k ⋆

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the penthouse?” my mother murmurs disappointingly as our butler, Joseph, fluffs the pillows on top of my new mattress for the next 10 months.

I shake my head before putting my hand on Joseph’s arm. His kneading halts and takes his leave. “No, Mom,” I repeat. This woman has been trying to get me to live at home with her since I accepted my offer. “I need to have the full college experience,” I remind her.

She sighs and the click of her heels fills the room as she walks over to me. “You can have the college experience down the hall where we can keep an eye on you,” she pleads with puppy dog eyes.

“Exactly,” I tell her with a smirk. How am I going to get into shit if my parents are within earshot? After all, that’s why I’m moving away. They didn’t get me the justice I deserved originally. “This is my first taste of freedom. Aren’t you guys glad that I live 10 minutes away instead of jaunting around the country?” I bring up the fate of my best friend, two years my senior.

My mother licks her scarlet-painted lips. “I still don’t know how she does it,” she sighs as if it’s displeasing to her.

Just when I’m about to scold my mom for judging Libby, I feel my back pocket vibrating. “Speaking of the devil,” I hold my phone towards my mom, displaying her contact poster on the screen. “You can go, mom. I just need to get acclimated, alone,” I gesture to my perfectly decorated room.

My mother made sure to get the keys days before moving in, only allowing me to pay the deposit when the room was renovated to her liking. I wouldn’t be surprised if she brought a whole inspector crew in here before I even saw the building.

She bites her lip and I pray she doesn’t start crying. “Okay. Don’t be afraid to come home if it doesn’t work out, Rowan,” my mother gently reminds me before pulling me in for a hug.

I allow her to squeeze me before she pulls back, fixing my tossed hair. Although my casual appearance today sends my mother up the wall, she’s grateful that my hair is at least brushed. “Got it,” I tell her, not having the strength to argue this topic once more.

I press the green accept button on my screen, waving to my mom as she exits into the bustling hallway. “Hey,” I answer.

“Hey, freshman. How are things?” Libby pokes at me. If it weren’t for her mother’s campaign, she’d be on campus with me. But she’s taking online classes while making her daily TV appearances.

Now that I think about it, it’s been months since I walked past a newsstand without Libby on the cover of a magazine. “Oh, fuck off. You’re only two years older than me,” I quip.

Libby cackles before adding, “And wise beyond my years. How’s room two?”

Room two is the biggest double on each floor and the bathroom doesn’t have to be shared with another room. I pace around the spacious space, before responding, “Perfect, thanks for suggesting it.”

The room is covered in lavender with a fluffy duvet and decorations that are far too girly for my liking. Not a singular band poster transferred over from my room at home, so although the space is cute, it lacks my personality.

“Of course, it’s the least I could do after…” she trails off and I’m assuming she doesn’t want to bring up my past. Even she wants to remind me that I shouldn’t have gone without her.

I feel frozen, teetering a fine line of retraumatization. I take a deep breath before changing the subject. “Anyways. How’s the campaign?” I ask.

“It’s fine. Mom’s working me to death, for free of course. But hey, if she loses I’ll be right back at Columbia with you by November 6th,” She jokes and I feel bad for wishing that was her outcome.

This would just be so much easier with her. “Dear god, please. I don’t know how I’m going to go through with this,” I confess, feeling anxiety brew in my stomach.

“We talked about this, you have a plan. Just stick to it,” Libby reminds me.

She’s right, Rowan. Step 1. Join a sorority, Step 2. Become president of the sorority and a part of the “Machine,” Step 3. Ruin each and every one of their lives.

Libby clears her throat, snapping me back into reality. “Have you met your roommate yet?” she asks.

“Oh my gosh. Hi!” I hear someone chirply squeal behind me as if she spoke them into existence.

My body quickly turns to face the mystery voice and I mentally prepare myself for a long year ahead. I’m met with a pearly white smile, straight blonde hair, and blue eyes. She looks like a perfect Barbie, and I feel a pang of jealousy in my stomach.

Her front collides with mine, and she wraps her arms around my body. “Hey, Libby. I’ll call you later,” I grumble into the receiver before I hear my best friend end the call.

The stranger drops me like a hot pocket. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” she rhetorically asks, extending her hand for me to shake. “Audrey Koch,” she chirpily introduces herself.

At the mention of that name, my mouth twists. The Kochs are a wealthy republican family and have nearly the same values as mine. But since I don’t follow my family’s political views, I hope she doesn’t as well.

I lock my hands with hers, shaking it lightly to not break the goodie two shoes. “Rowan Bouvier,” I politely return the greeting.

Her eyes snap down to my hand, twisting it around. The black ink almost glows on my skin. “Cool tattoo,” she compliments the large snake.

“Thanks,” I blush before pulling my hand back. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this girl. I’ve only known her for two seconds and we still have 9 months together. “Koch as in The Koch Brothers?” I lightly dig.

She smiles and nods quickly. “Yeah, they’re my great grandparents,” she bashfully admits. “But don’t worry. I use everyone as my personal paypigs,” she states nonchalantly.

My head tilts listening to her rant as she pauses to take a deep breath. “I only talk to my cousins. They’re the only ones who aren’t racist,” she defends herself. Oh, thank god she has a brain.

I peer behind her at the residential aides pushing 4 carts full of belongings into the room. We’re only permitted one, but she doesn’t seem like the person to be told no. “Well, do you need any help unpacking?” I offer.

She turns around, looking at the heap of her belongings before waving them off. “Later. I heard there’s a party tonight and I have nothing to wear. Let’s go shopping,” She suggests, bouncing over to her white Hermes Birkin.

She plucks it off the top of the pile, before turning to face me. “Coming?” she asks, looking up and down at me frozen in place.

My gaze drifts down to my fishnet tights and a tattered band tee. “Umm, maybe I should change first,” I think out loud.

“No way. You look great!” She compliments, dramatically holding her arms open.

Scarlet creeps onto my cheeks and I nod, grabbing my purse. A party is arguably step one since I need to get intel and this girl seems like she’d dress me in the perfect sorority image. “Shopping it is,” I conceded.

“What’s your favorite color?” Audrey asks as we shift through a clothing rack.

My brown eyes meet her ice-blue ones and I respond, “Purple. Yours?” before returning to the array of textured fabric.

“Pink! That’s so great. Every pink friend needs a purple best friend,” she beams and I smile. I feel like I’ve known Audrey my whole life and it’s only been an hour. Her personality draws you in like a magnet and you never want to leave her side.

I’m about to pull a dress from the rack when I remember, I don’t know what I’m shopping for. I haven’t been to a party since the incident, not that I could bring myself to go if I wanted to. I’m pretty sure the only way I’m able to go tonight is because Audrey will be with me.

I groan, releasing the metal hanger. “This is useless. I haven’t been to a party since high school. I don’t even know what to wear,” I complain over the rack to Audrey.

The corners of Audrey’s lips twitch and she leans forward slightly. “Do you want my help?” she asks excitedly and I know I’ve woken a demon.

I nod and within seconds, she’s on my side with an arm full of clothes. She begins rapidly holding things up toward my torso and I wonder if she’s utilizing her fashion expertise. She should be a business major or a fashion designer the way she’s quickly categorizing what she’d like me to try on.

After she’s got a pile of garments for me, she starts putting the discards back in their place. As I watch her, I decide to ask her, “Hey, Aud. What are you studying?”

“Poli sci. What about you?” She returns as she walks back over to me. Her blonde hair cascades perfectly down her back and I admire this woman on a mission with a bow in her head.

Political science makes sense considering her family’s background. It’s practically in her DNA. “Bio,” I tell her. My eyebrow raises as I watch her begin to grab some of the clothes from the pile. “Please tell me you’re trying something on too,” I hint.

I take some items from her hand, lightening the load. “Of course, I am. I just want to put your stuff down first,” she snickers before turning towards the dressing rooms.

We pick the biggest room, hanging my stuff on the wall hooks. “Be right back,” Audrey says, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

My body turns to face the mirror slowly and I realize I haven’t seen myself since this morning. My appearance is fine, but I have been avoidant of mirrors for a while. The sight of myself has my stomach gurgling and an unpleasant feeling washing through my bones.

My feet carry me backward, away from the staring contest with the monster in my reflection. I reach down and pull my shirt over my body before quickly peeling off my tights until I’m left standing in my underwear.

The first outfit is on my body before Audrey comes back, but I’m met with instant disapproval. “I don’t like that one. Next,” she commands, pointing towards another outfit.

I follow her lead and she joins me, trying on her first outfit. The pink dress she’s picked has ruffles and it screams Audrey, but it’s a bit too dressy for the occasion. “What do you think?” she asks, striking a pose.

Stepping into the mini skirt, I pull it over my thick thighs. “I haven’t been to one of these in a while but would you be mad if someone spilled beer on that?” I ask.

Her lips purse and she nods, reaching for the spaghetti straps. “Yes,” she answers while shedding it.

Once I have the next set on, I slowly spin with my arms out for Audrey. “Am I pretty yet?” I half-joke.

Audrey takes a shirt off the hanger, preparing to try it on. “You’re always gorgeous, but that outfit doesn’t scream hot party freshman,” she observes.

My head falls back and I let a groan slip through my throat. “Audrey, I’m trying to scream hot sorority girl, not hot party freshman,” I cry.

Audrey’s jaw drops and she gasps, “Oh my god, you’re rushing?”

Audrey’s completely frozen in place and she looks like she’s processing the information. “Yes,” I deadpan.

Audrey giggles before resuming her movements. “I’m sorry, you just don’t seem like the type,” she apologizes.

My whole body suddenly feels heavy recalling the reasoning behind joining a sorority. I succumb to the feeling, collapsing onto the velvet green bench. “Yeah, it’s not for the reason you think,” I breadcrumb her.

Audrey’s forehead creases. “What reason is it for?” she digs.

I nervously pick at my fingers. “I have a plan, erm. It’s a lot to go into now,” I start, not wanting to bring down the mood during our bonding session.

Audrey sets her top down next to me before joining me on the bench. “Well, I’m pretty sure this is the only time we’ll be alone all year. You might as well now while we don’t have ears,” she foretells.

My brown eyes meet her blue ones and I grab her hands. “Okay, this stays between us,” I emphasize, hoping I can trust her.

Her hand slides under mine and she locks her pinky with mine. “Roommate pinky promise,” she wears.

I nod before taking a deep breath. “Okay. A couple of years ago I was at Heron and I was dating this guy I liked. His name is William. He invited me to a party with some of his friends while my best friend was out of town, so I went alone thinking it would be chill. Will told me he would take care of me the whole night and make sure nothing happened to me. Little did I know the bad thing that would happen would be him,” I explain my story.

Audrey’s eyes sparked with fear. “What did he do?” she asks.

“Will gave me a red solo cup and dared me to chug it. The rest of the night is fuzzy. He took me upstairs and took my virginity before letting his friends have a turn,” I explain, feeling the retraumatization run through my veins.

I subconsciously squeeze Audrey’s hand, using her as a grounding force to Earth. “Oh, Rowan. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she apologizes profusely.

I shake my head. It’s not her apology to give. “It’s fine. It’s not fine, but you know what I mean. They’re going to get what they deserve. I’m going to rush, become a part of the machine, and ruin all of their lives once everyone is on my side,” I tell her.

“Whatever I can do to help you, I’ll do it. We’re roommates now,” she urges and I smile.

Her words spark an idea in my brain. For this to work, I need to be perfect to them. I’m not currently stereotypically sorority pretty right now. “Give me a makeover. Make me perfect to their image,” I blurt out.

Audrey releases my hands and raises her brow. “Are you sure?” she asks.

I nod with fear that if I don’t commit, I’ll go back on my word. “Positive,” I say.

“Then try that on,” Audrey demands, pointing to a purple lace set.

I pick it up, examining the fabric. “Are you sure it’s the vibe?” I skeptically question her choice.

“Yes, try it on,” she pushes me towards the mirror. I follow her directions, shedding my current outfit and quickly dressing myself in the purple garments.

I slowly turn around, allowing Audrey to get a good view of the outfit. “You look like the next Regina George. The entire study body is going to eat you up,” she predicts kindly.

I silently thank her with a tight hug, squeezing the life out of her. Once we’ve repeated the same steps with her outfit and we’re both dressed, I ask her, “What’s next?”

Audrey leads us toward the checkout counter, stopping in her tracks to look at jewelry. “Shoes. You need to look like the brunette Sabrina Carpenter,” she asserts.

My fingers brush against the gold rings. “I’m not going to pretend to know who that is,” I mutter under my breath.

I’m nearly knocked over as a group of people rush past me, up the steps of the dimly lit brownstone. As Audrey and I ascend the stairs at 11:30 pm sharp, I can literally feel the railing vibrating. When we reach the halfway point I immediately see that the house is crowded.

We stand in line as a man not much older than me acts as a bootleg bodyguard, stamping people in one by one. With each being that stands in his presence, he scans their body, quickly determining their worth. Some girls are turned away and sent down the steps in tears.

My eyes narrow as I watch the cutthroat process and my grip on Audrey’s hand tightens. “It doesn’t hurt but you’re sweaty,” Audrey leans over and murmurs owly so only I can hear.

“Sorry,” I quickly apologize, releasing her hand and wiping it on my mini skirt. I haven’t been this nervous since graduation.

“You’re fine. You look great. Just hold your head high and fake it until we’re inside, at least,” she advises as we get closer and closer to the front of the line.

My legs begin to wobble each inch closer to the large wooden doors. When we get to the front, I plaster on my most flirty smile, courtesy of Libby’s training. As if I’m a robot, my arm raises for the man to put a stamp on my hand.

His jaw drops and I can’t decipher if he’s stunned by my appearance or my confidence. He answers my question the moment his skin caresses over mine. “Girls like you don’t have to wait in line, gorgeous,” he flirts through his menacing grin.

He applies the stamp right next to the head of my snake tattoo. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” I flirt back, shoving the sensation of vomiting back down my throat.

Audrey steps forward, putting her hand out in the same manner. After stamping her pale skin, the man lingers for a bit keeping her close to him. “I hope I’ll see you in there later,” he smirks before bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it.

Oh hell no. We haven’t even gotten inside and creepy men are proving the exact reason for my revenge plot. My arm slides underneath Audrey’s, looping around her bicep. “Come on. I need a drink!” I quickly blurt the excuse, pulling her towards the door.

When we enter the house, you wouldn’t be able to tell a party was happening if the floor wasn’t shaking with every beat of the music. We follow the movement of the crowd through the basement door, passing several drunk patrons as we descend the steps.

As soon as my heels touch the concrete floor, I have to sidestep out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face by a football. The music is so loud that I can’t focus, let alone hear my own thoughts. I guess this is what college parties are like.

I’m whisked through the hoards of students, straight toward the dance floor. My senses are so overwhelmed that I’ve forgotten why I’m here. Make it known that I’m the number-one pick for rush this year.

Audrey picks a spot smack dab in the middle with a spotlight practically beaming on us. “We’ll dance for 3 songs so everyone will see you in here, then shots in the kitchen so everyone will see you in there,” she explains.

My head subconsciously shakes, no. “I don’t think I can do shots,” I confess, already feeling uneasy from the sea of red solo cups. The room feels like it’s swallowing me whole and now, I empathize with Libby’s claustrophobia.

Audrey smiles, seemingly unphased before spinning me dramatically. “Don’t worry, I brought shooters,” she informs me once we’re facing each other again. She spins herself under my arm, lightly shaking her bottom to show off two tiny bottles sticking out of her back pockets.

My shoulders relax and I begin vibing to the music again. “You’re a real girls girl, you know that?” I shout over the bass.

She wraps her hand on my waist, pulling me closer. “I try,” she suavely husks and my head falls back with a giggle. I haven’t laughed this hard since Libby left and even then, it didn’t feel genuine. I was just trying to make sure she didn’t keep me on suicide watch with my family.

We sway and lose ourselves in the beat, matching each other’s energy. The UV lighting covers the room, highlighting the beautiful streaks of gold in Audrey’s hair. I reach out, twirling a soft piece around my finger before slowly swirling my hips. I definitely needed this.

Once our allotted number of songs pass, Audrey leads me towards the kitchen. As soon as we’re in the small space, I’m hit with a cloud of weed smoke. I fight the urge to swat the thick smog away from my nostrils, quickly moving through the puff-puff-pass session.

Audrey finds an empty spot on the island and she reaches into her back pocket, cracking open the shooter with her teeth. I cringe at the sound, watching her methodically prepare the beverages.

She passes me a shooter before clinking her plastic bottle with mine. “Cheers to 4 years together,” she loudly announces and I lift my shot of tequila to my lips.

The Don Julio doesn’t burn as it goes down, but it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. I search the counter for a lime to get rid of the sour sensation in my mouth. Once I find one, I bite down on the lime letting the juice seep onto my tongue.

I don’t miss the feeling of a billion eyes staring a black hole into my head. Audrey warned me that once I became the it girl, people would watch me like a hawk. But I had no idea it would be this bad.

My eyes slowly scan the room, silently connecting with every individual to ensure they remember me. Every single pair darts away after a few seconds, but one sends chills up my spine.

The moss green irises cut through the lavender haze, silently observing me. My skin crawls when a feeling of nakedness washes over me. I feel completely bare to this individual who’s looking right through my skin and into my soul.

As if my body was made of glass, I allowed the emeralds to crack me with each flicker of movement. My spine begins to squirm and I finally allow myself to break the gaze to assess the face of my distant admirer.

My eyes drink the tall man in. He’s dressed casually with his tattoos on full display and a headband holds his unruly curls away from his forehead, showing off his pristine face.

Fuck me. God took his time making this one. I want to drag him into an empty room and ride him until I’m sore. I want to lick him from his abs up to his neck. I want to see his tattooed hand wrapped around my throat while he fucks me.

Okay so, sex drive is still in tact I see. “Let him come to you,” Audrey whispers, interrupting our staring contest. My eyes dart down to the still-empty shooter in my hand, now crushed by grip.

I abandon the plastic on the countertop, unable to bring myself to find a waste bin now that my legs are jello. “I don’t think he’s interested,” I admit. There’s a plethora of girls in here and a majority of them look better than me, including Audrey.

Audrey’s brows knit in disbelief. Okay, so she felt the vibes too. “I know it wasn’t the plan but, I don’t think a little flirting would send us completely off track,” she hints, nudging me with her elbow.

I open my mouth to decline again when the words get caught in my throat. Behind Audrey appears the handsome man who was across the kitchen just moments ago. “Off track for what?” the stranger asks.

My breathing hitches and I allow his gaze to rip my heart out without even touching me. I know that if I lie, he’ll see right through me. My hand lightly smacks Audrey, hoping she’ll understand and step in. She coughs lightly before muttering, “Ummm, studying.”

Nice fucking save, Audrey. My eyes dart around the room for anything to ground me and I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Gorgeous and smart. I have to know your name,” I hear the stranger flirt and I don’t miss his British accent. He could read me a bedtime story and I’d be asleep in seconds.

Audrey clears her throat and my eyes snap up to meet his again. Oh shit, he was talking to me. My body turns to mush as I extend my hand, trying to patch up my ego. “Rowan,” I introduce myself.

His soft hands slide beneath mine, gripping it lightly to shake. “Harry,” he smirks and I almost droll. I could write mathematical theories based on his dimples and plump lips.

Instead of letting my hand go, he lowers it, stepping closer to me. He smells of tobacco and vanilla, and I want to bury my nose in his body and inhale his scent. Before I do, Audrey speaks up, “Audrey, who needs water,” she tells Harry like he’s nothing but a servant.

I stuff a snicker down my throat as Harry lets go of my hand, quickly taking a couple of steps toward the water bottles. He picks one up, handing it to Audrey gently. “Nice to meet you both,” he charms before turning back towards me. “Haven’t seen you around. You a freshman?” he asks.

I nod before replying, “Mhmm, you?”

He shakes his head, shifting on his leg. “Junior,” he answers.

Disgust brews in my stomach. I haven’t been here for long, but I know what goes on in this frat house. And I also know that this is the frat my targets joined. “And you’re in Sig Nu?” I explore.

Harry frowns and I feel like a boulder dropped in my stomach. I don’t ever want to see him make that face again if I can help it. “God, no. They’ve got two active title ix’s. Sig EP,” he hisses.

I nod, gnawing on my lip out of nervousness. “Oh,” I grumble.

“But it sounded like you were disgusted,” Harry inquires, taking a step closer to let a partygoer pass behind him.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry. I just mean, you have an accent. What’s so appealing about Greek life?” I stammer glancing ever so slightly behind me at Audrey moving around the kitchen like a perfect social butterfly.

“Oh good, I thought you were judging me,” Harry chuckles and I smile. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots and shifting his headband a bit. Suddenly, I have the urge to reach up and fix it for him. “My roommate frat rushed freshman year and I joined for shits and giggles. Little did I know, as president, I can’t leave,” he continues.

When the words president slips through his lips, my jaw drops. “You’re president?” I clarify.

He nods, eyes glistening in the dim light of the room. “Mmhm. Brownstone’s close by if you want to see,” he suggests, tilting his head towards the door.

I nearly choke on my spit realizing what he’s just hinted at. He wants to fuck me. Am I ready for that? I don’t think I’m ready for that. You’ve been silent for too long, Rowan. Say something! “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I just met you,” I choke out.

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise and he puts his hands up. “Oh no, that’s not — I wasn’t trying to hook up with you. You just seem on edge here. I was giving you an out, darling,” he suavely rephrased.

He seems sincere and I feel safe enough to hold my own alone with him. On top of that, he’s perfect and he fits seamlessly with my plan. We’d be the hottest power couple at Columbia, and I should be making that happen. Just go for it, Rowan. What’s the worst that can happen? The worst that can happen already happened. Twice in one lifetime is rare.

I smile before replying, “Oh, oh. Well, in that case lead the —”

“Harry!” a high-pitched voice interrupts me and I watch as manicured nails slide across Harry’s chest. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” a short brunette girl flirts with my green-eyed crush.

His hand wraps around her wrist and he lowers it away from his body. “Gabe. Didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he returns a greeting disappointingly.

Gabe scoffs, putting her hand on her hip. “Of course, I am, silly. I missed you this summer,” she flirts.

My eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them and my suspicions are confirmed. They’ve fucked and have arguably been fucking before the summer break. The last thing I need to ruin my plans is a love triangle. “Okay well, thanks for the offer, Harry. I’ve got to go,” I excuse myself.

I stand on my tiptoes, searching for Audrey. After a couple of moments, Harry finally notices my plans to leave and he says, “No, wait. She’s not my—”

His explanation fades into the background as soon as I find Audrey. “I don’t care. Enjoy the party, it was nice meeting you,” I cut him off before turning on my toes to reach my friend.

Getting over to her feels like I’m in the Triwizard Maze; ducking and dodging joints and blow being passed around. “What just happened?” Audrey instantly asks once I’m in earshot.

“Nothing. He has a girlfriend,” I respond, feeling slightly dejected. When will it be my turn to have a hot green-eyed hunk?

Her brows knit and confusion washes over her face. “Gabrielle?” she asks and I nod. “That’s not his girlfriend. They fucked once and she’s hooked,” she continues.

My eyes drift back over to the two I thought were a couple. Every time Gabrielle tries to touch Harry, he leans back ever so slightly to dodge the contact. “How do you know that?” I ask Audrey, unable to peel my eyes from them.

“You can see it all over her body,” Audrey states, motioning towards them with her palm open. “And while you were busy flirting, I was getting intel,” she snips.

Harry exits the kitchen in a fury with Gabrielle trailing behind him. Her words cause a lightbulb to go off in my brain and my focus is back on her. “Intel?” I inquire.

“Yeah. On who to mingle with; the top people in the top houses,” she explains and I nod.

“So what did you find out?” I press her to spill the beans.

Audrey links her arm with mine before we begin walking out of the kitchen. “Well, Theta is the top house, followed by DG. Gabrielle is the president of Sig Delt so you’re definitely not getting in there after tonight. But that doesn’t matter because the president of Theta is primed and ready for you,” Audrey begins to reveal.

I allow my friend to lead us up the creaky steps and we silently pass far too many drunk girls. I hope they’ll wake up in their own beds tomorrow. “Primed and ready?” I ask once we’re at the top of the stairwell.

We open the door, returning to the main level of the brownstone. The polarity between the party downstairs and the chill ambiance upstairs is jarring, and I find myself rapidly blinking. “She’s looking for someone to replace her,” Audrey elaborates and I jump hearing the door slam behind us.

Audrey pulls us down a hall towards a sitting room area full of people. Sitting in a circle are Harry, Gabrielle, and about 8 other strangers. They all seem extremely familiar with each other, occasionally laughing in between sips of their drinks. “See that girl over there?” Audrey asks, pointing towards a beautiful brunette with beautiful doe eyes.

“Mmmhm,” I confirm.

Audrey leans against the wall, still out of sight of the group. “That’s D.Q. Vanderbilt, President of Theta. The girl sitting next to her is her little and president of recruit, Olivia Astor. They’re both super rich and have hella influence,” she recites.

I take a step back, abandoning my stalker-ish gaze on the girl. “Okay, so why can’t Olivia replace her?” I ask Audrey.

“Rowan, look at her,” Audrey grabs my face, turning it back in the direction of Harry before releasing it.

I watch as Olivia awkwardly slinks down into the leather couch. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here, talking to people. “Felt,” I empathize with her. I hate socializing too.

Audrey smacks my bicep with the back of her hand. “That’s not the spirit of someone who wants revenge,” she scolds, with her hand on her hip.

My eyes look her up and down sassily before stating, “You’re right, it’s go time.”

“That’s the spirit!” Audrey whisper-cheers. I grab her hand, pulling her from the safety of the shadows. “Wait, what are you doing?” she frets.

My heels click against the hardwood floor that looks like it’s never been renovated. “You’re coming with me,” I demand.

Before she has time to protest, I’m standing right next to the curly brunette boy who stole my heart 5 minutes ago. “Hey Harry, I was wondering if I could still take you up on that offer?” I lean down and ask him loud enough for the group to hear.

Gabrielle leans closer to Harry, attempting to claim her man. “What offer? Who is she?” she snaps.

“Mind your business, Gabe,” a freckle-faced girl adds and I silently thank her for defending me.

A blonde girl leans forward, plucking her cup from the table with two fingers before asking, “But seriously, Harry. Who is she?”

An attractive young man bounces his leg excitedly. “You brought us pretty fresh meat?” he articulates every syllable like a vampire.

“Fuck off,” Harry grumbles, still focused on getting away from Gabrielle. When he seemingly realizes there’s no more space, he awkwardly clears his throat while standing from the couch.

Harry slides behind me and Audrey, using us as human shields. “I’m Rowan and this is my roommate, Audrey,” I answer the blonde.

Audrey murmurs a hello to the group before taking a step back with Harry, leaving me at the front lines of battle.

“I’m D.Q., that’s Liv, Gabe, Kier, Em, Parker, Sienna, Connie, and looks like you already know Harry,” D.Q runs through the names of each group member, adding a little spice to Harry’s name.

My brain starts doing backflips, repeating each of their names in my head. “Don’t worry, it took me forever to get all the names down,” Kier seductively flirts across the circle.

“Rowan… last name?” Em asks and I curse myself for not waiting until they’re drunk to introduce myself.

I take a deep breath before sighing, “Bouvier.”

“Bouvier, where are you from?” Parker fires off a follow-up question and I have to keep myself from staring at her pristine pearl necklace sitting high on her chest.

“New York, born and raised,” I say with a smile. I feel like I’m tap dancing for a hello right now.

“Bouvier… as in the Kennedy’s Bouvier?” Connie asks a follow-up to Em’s question.

I nod, ready to break the news that will have them looking at me differently. “Yeah, Jacqueline Kennedy is my grandmother,” I boast.

This is the first time I’ve ever brought up the relation and now I know why. Every single face in the room twists, each with a different reaction. “Holy shit, you’re New York royalty,” Sienna finally points out.

I may be New York royalty, but they’re interested in what I have to offer politically. I haven’t been involved in politics in years, not that I could give a shit. But, I might as well lean into it. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with Liberty Washington. She’s my best friend,” I name-drop the presidential candidate’s daughter.

Olivia gasps, leaning forward. “Oh my gosh, she’s so cool. I saw she was front row at the Dior show during fashion week. What’s she like?” she presses.

I smile, casually stepping over Gabrielle’s outstretched legs to sit next to Olivia. “She’s a great friend. We talk 24/7,” I tell her as I sit.

Olivia smiles, scooting a bit closer to me. “You’ll have to bring her to meet your new friends sometime,” she says, gesturing to the group.

I nod, seeing another way to solidify my place in the group. “She’d love that! As long as I can bring Audrey,” I attempt to include my roommate who is now deep in a conversation with Harry and Kier, but mostly Kier.

“Yeah!” Olivia beams before asking the question I hoped one of them would inquire about, “Are you rushing Greek?”

I purse my lips, adjusting in my seat a bit as if I’m unsure of my answer. “I was thinking about it. Only if Audrey does it with me,” I smoothly articulate. Hell yeah, Rowan. That was totally believable.

Olivia nods excitedly and D.Q. joins the conversation, “Well you should, and not to toot our horn but Theta is the best.”

“No dirty rushing,” Gabrielle leans over and interjects.

D.Q. rolls her eyes, sitting back on the couch. “We’re not dirty rushing by stating facts, Gabe,” she scoffs.

I like these girls already and can definitely see myself calling Theta home if the rest of them are like this. “Yeah well, we have to go,” I murmur before standing. My skin sticks to the leather seat, causing me to scratch my thighs while turning around. “It was nice meeting you all,” I say to the group.

Kier pouts, taking a strand of Audrey’s golden locks between his fingers. “But, I was just getting to know all about my beloved’s favorite book,” he grumbles.

After inhaling deeply, he releases her hair, letting it flow back down in place. Audrey turns maroon and she looks like she’s about to faint.

“Fuckin hell, you’re dramatic, mate,” Harry bellows, smacking his friend on the shoulder.

I shake my head at the boy’s antics before Harry steps toe to toe with me. “Can I have your number?” he shakily requests.

My eyes search Harry’s to find nothing but burning desire. I nod, stepping towards Audrey to grab my phone that she’s been holding in her pocket all night. I unlock it before passing it to Harry.

He takes it from my hand, quickly typing his contact in before passing it back to me. “You’ll text me?” he asks with a tone of insecurity.

Tucking my phone in my back in Audrey's back pocket. “I think that’s the point of me getting your number,” I jest, lacing my fingers with my friend’s to tug her away. “Bye, Harry,” I say over my shoulder.

Audrey stumbles over her feet behind me, calling over her shoulder, “It was nice meeting you, Kiernan!”

“Farewell, my love,” he sweetly returns the goodbye. I’ll never understand love at first sight, but those two clearly have it.

Once we’re outside on the sidewalk, I begin swinging our linked hands as we make the short walk back to the dorms. “Did you get everything you needed?” Audrey voices lowly.

I nod with a smile, even though it feels taboo. I know I shouldn’t like revenge, but god does it already taste so sweet. “Yup. Day two starts tomorrow,” I inform her of our plans.

“Good,” she responds as we turn right into the courtyard.

But what the hell have I gotten myself into?

lets try something! if you want to be on the taglist, comment your reaction to the chapter + "add me to the taglist please!" and I'll put your name below. thanks again for all the support!

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comingfromastatechampionasshole · 1 year

Text

Doc's Best In Goddamn Show Montana State Fair Coconut Cream Pie

As promised, the baked good that did the best, I'll release the recipe. This is one of my favorite pies of all time, hewed into a perfect custard-based pie that won me my first Best in Show rosette in nine years. And pies is even a tough category!

The other shocking thing: This is one of the easiest pies I make. It's very much "don't worry about it." It even tastes better if you make everything but the topping the day before serving.

“Doc, why don’t you use cream of coconut for the custard?” Friend, I tried for years to get that to work, only to find out that cream of coconut just does not bake up as nice as milk and cream, so I use a nice extract and toast the coconut to get the flavors.

YOU WILL NEED:

A crust (I presume you can either make or buy a crust. I might even have a recipe here on the blog, I can’t remember)

Pie:

5 eggs

¾ cup caster/baker’s sugar

2 cups of whole milk

½ cup half and half (I believe this is called half cream in the UK)

1 tsp vanilla bean paste

1 tsp coconut extract (I like Olivenation or watkins. Also, bear in mind you may need to use more. I do this to taste and the tsp is a guess on my part. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you where to taste in the recipe)

Pinch salt

1 cup sweetened flaked coconut

Topping:

2 cups heavy cream VERY COLD (can use whipping or double also, but I prefer heavy)

2 tablespoons jello or jello style pudding mix, coconut

Powdered/icing sugar (this will be to taste)

Decoration: Most definitely toasted coconut. I really like Nuts.com’s organic dried coconut chips, but it depends on how flush I’m feeling--I did not use it in this competition. Macadamia nuts are great, dried pineapple, for this competition I used coconut rolls from costco. This is mostly for visual appeal, so be creative.

Toast your coconut: Put the oven at 350F. Put some parchment down on a baking sheet, and then put your sweetened flaked coconut on the sheet. Don’t forget to put in a bit extra for your topping decoration. Toast for about five minutes, it will probably need a stir and watch it closesy--coconut burns easy. When it’s a nice pale golden, pull it and up the temperature of the oven to 375F.

Blind bake your crust. If you haven’t done this before, I think it’s easy but admit maybe not everyone will. Roll your crust out into a pie plate, just like you always would, and then cover the bottom with tin foil, and fill with pie weights or beans, or rice--I’m a big fan of using sugar. Whatever you use. Bake it about 15-17 minutes, it should be lightly brown at the edges. Take out the pie weight you used. Bake it about 5 minutes more, just so the bottom gets very lightly toasted.

Make the filling! Beat your eggs in in a large bowl until they are very well combined but not whipped. Beat in everything but the coconut itself. NOW TASTE IT. Does it taste coconutty enough, or do you want to add a little more extract? Have an easy hand with the stuff, it’s powerful. Mix in the toasted coconut.

Yeah, I’m serious, that was the whole of the filling instructions. I told you this was ridiculously easy.

Bake: Pour your filling (carefully) into the pie crust, and cover the edges of your pie crust so it doesn’t burn (I use tin foil, but they do make fancy pie shields). I like to put it on a jelly roll pan so it’s easier for me to take in and out of the oven. You’re going to bake it at 375F for about 30-40 minutes, but the real test is: if you shake it a little, is it set at the sides but with a little wiggle in the center? That’s when it’s done.

Let it cool totally.

Topping! Beat your cold cream and pudding mix together, adding the powdered sugar slowly. I start with a quarter cup and work my way up until it’s as sweet as I like. I prefer a harder peak for this, but soft peaks are acceptable if you enjoy that more. Decorat with your topping choices!

GO WIN A FUCKIN ROSETTE

Please tell me if you made this! If you found this really helpful and would like to leave me a tip, my ko-fi is here!

#recipes #dessert recipes #pie recipes #baking tips

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tartagliaxx · 2 years

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。BUT EVEN JUPITER HAS BOUTS OF MERCY

━━ INCLUDES: albedo, diluc, tartaglia, xiao

━━ SUMMARY: for the first time in years, jupiter budged from his flux — his storms softening into one that might welcome room for optimistic outlooks for the future; or his point of view in the events that transpired, plus what happened after you confronted him, learning that all this time, the relationship you valued was a mere ploy in order to escape his admirers

━━ CONTAINS: fake dating!au, modern!au, highschool!au (albedo), college!au (xiao), language (childe and xiao), dubious mental states, questionable scientific and philosophical themes + others, alcohol mention (non-consumption), open-ended?

━━ PREREQUISITE: jupiter was cruel

。 ALBEDO — “ princeps cretaceus | chalk prince ”

before you, albedo never really cared much about social interaction nor did he see any point in interacting with his classmates when they were unlikely to give any useful feedback about his research. it wasn't as if he thought of himself as someone above other people because there was a time when he stood by the swings of a playground, watching and wishing he was one of the people who ran away from the seeker in a game of hide-and-seek. it's not exactly a big deal as every child goes through a rather playful phase while growing up but the five-year-old albedo struggled to fit inside the world he looked upon with wonder.

he was older now and that desire to belong has evaporated as he found through trial-and-error that he was perfectly fine as he is. faint traces of contentment flickered inside his bright, curious eyes as one by one, likeminded individuals drew close to him like birds of the same species and genus flocking together. social interaction was far from his strongest suit, especially when it's not with sucrose or his senior, timaeus, but it was a task he did nevertheless for the sake of his academic pursuit. at the very least, he had the company of the wonderful strangeness of science and for that alone, he was able to pour dozens of sleepless nights reading through piles of full-text articles that always left the right amount of his curiosity sated and the right amount of questions that would leave him wanting more. the most recent conclusion he had was about himself. he was happy being the quiet honor student that nobody quite knew. he was content that he already has plans for the future, no matter how loose: a degree in biological sciences and if he was lucky, then maybe he'd chance upon a world-changing discovery. if not, well, it wasn't as if that was a priority for albedo believed himself to be relatively simple and old-fashioned — just a kid who wanted to learn so much more.

when he was eight-years-old, a child the same age as he approached him by the swings — his spot. they told him that he looked like he was feeling down and he wondered how they came to that conclusion when he had always worn a creepily emotionless face (as referred to by a bully in his class). they simply shrugged saying that some things didn't need an explanation because you just know and it was then that he realized that there was so much to learn from that person.

that was the last interaction he had with them and he wished it wasn't. he still remembered the way the tiny snickers bar fit in his tiny hands — a little something they gave to cheer him up. he never got to say thanks. he’ll be sure to do so, if he ever got the chance to meet them again but even albedo doubts that strange forces would make their paths cross again after ten years.

on his senior year, he was seated beside a face quite familiar and it took him two days of pondering to figure out that the stranger from his childhood now sits beside him in class. it was a curious turn of events and he was suddenly the same eight-year-old boy who struggled to strike up a conversation.

he knew you to be a quiet kid who no one dislikes. you’re always ready to lend your notes that were sometimes hurriedly scrawled with a regular ballpoint pen and sometimes decorated with pops of color from your assortment of highlighters. you sat with your friends at lunch, keeping to yourself like you all shared a bubble separate from the rest of the world. he never managed to catch your name, just that you and he interacted before and he remains to look back on it fondly.

he was observant so it was easy to see that your attention was easily stolen by a familiar shape on the clouds or something similar. you also procrastinated on science projects a lot and you would pull all-nighters the day before the deadline. you don’t think twice before lending him a pen when his ran out of ink while doing his experiment notes and you’re pretty observant yourself, giving him another snickers bar when he got caught up in astronomical research.

the next day, he was wondering what to say to you after staying up all night chastising himself for not saying thank you before you left. in no time, the bell rang and you were packing your things. it was… quite embarrassing to look back on and he said the first thing that came into his mind when he saw that you were stepping away from your desk.

“blood moons could be refreshing to look at,” he says before realizing just how awkward it was to randomly spout science trivia and averting his gaze to fake writing something on his notebook. he could feel your confused stare on his form for a brief second before you ultimately left, leaving him to regret his god awful social skills.

ah… he forgot to say thanks again…

the next day, he spots the dark circles under your eyes and he wondered if you managed to complete the paper for your biology class on time. actions speak louder than words, he thinks as he slid a snickers bar to your table just as you had done before for him. he expected a little mumbled thanks or even a polite rejection but perhaps, he kept his head low too much for him to recognize the array of surprises his seat mate offered.

"in a lunar eclipse, the earth's atmosphere scatters most of the blue light which causes the remaining light to reflect on the moon with a red glow."

he found himself amused and a strange weightless feeling makes his heart spur. he doesn’t know what to reply but he realized that he just so happened to have his book about observed celestial events with him that day so that was what he slid over to you before you part ways.

interactions with you were limited to small things like that for a long while but he knew better. his seat mate, whose name he now knows after you introduced yourself thinking he never noticed you before, was more observant than he assumed. you weren’t the most sociable person to ever exist but you handle conversations well enough. it might be just him and the strange haze that overcomes him every time you talked but he can’t help but believe that you enjoyed and appreciated your interactions with him just as much.

he lacked the social skills that could deem him charming so it came to a surprise when a stranger approached him once more while he was walking home from a convenience store run. this time without the kind undertones of your gaze or the subtle mischievous lilt of your voice. it wasn't you and for a brief moment, he realized that it was only you who made social interactions a little less tedious than they actually were.

the stranger had sickly pale skin and an equally sick smile that had his mind flashing red in even intervals. the human instinct for danger caused the hairs on his skin to rise up in alarm, every single nerve aching to run and never look back. this... person spoke of an admiration that made his stomach churn — of a romance that he could not find any pleasure in. it wasn't everyday that his composure was broken but as he murmured an apology, albedo realized that his agitation was displayed white as day on his face.

everything that happened after was a blur and all he could vaguely remember was saying that he had already promised himself to someone else and that was not exactly a lie. so many days had passed since then and just as many were the days where he impulsively asked you out as he saw a strange shadow lurking behind the corner. pretending that things were perfectly fine so as to evade your worry was an easy task but he didn't know that the cost was hurting you even more.

the moon was neither cruel or merciful but it was beautiful and mysterious. it was something he would compare to the look on your face as he haphazardly confessed his feelings for you if only the uncertainty of the situation didn't terrify even the stone-faced scientist of year three's class b. the truth — his honest mistake and his uncharacteristic fear — gnawed on his throat like a secret waiting to be spilled but albedo, who has learned to hold your strangeness close to his heart, feared the expanding distance between you two. but now that the truth was spilled with neither of you willing to clean it up, the pale glow of the satellite above illuminated his way as he stepped into a neighborhood now familiar to him.

"...what are you doing here?"

though the moon may not be cruel, perhaps he was for allowing his dark sea of selfishness to dictate where his feet may lead.

"i have something to admit."

"leave, albedo." you whisper as you avoid his gaze, eyes red from what was left of your tears, "it's late. it's not safe for you to be outside."

"i'm— i'm not here to apologize. i don't think your forgiveness is something that i should have but i have to let you know the whole truth, at least."

you mimicked his words, "the truth? there's more to this than just you playing around?"

he didn't respond, only sighing as he tears his eyes away from your feeble form. the small silence was deafening but even more unnerving was the solemn smile that graces over your soft lips after giving him a once over. without once meeting your eyes, he told you everything — from the stranger to his brewing feelings to his conversation with timaeus.

"i knew," you sighed as you motioned for him to enter into your dimly lit home, "i told you i knew."

"everything?"

a humorless chuckle slips out of you as you fiddled with the hem of your pajamas. with little to no effort, you repeat the words you uttered just a few hours prior "you don't need to be a science genius to be observant. i guess it also helps that you're a horrible liar."

albedo doesn't reply for a while, gaze downturned before he accepts the small cup of water you were offering, "are you mad at me?"

"yes," you answered without missing a beat.

the spark from when your fingers grazed over his when you handed the cup turned into a fire that suffocated him from within. though he didn't see his reflection, he was certain that his eyes dilate at the slow-burning fear for what your approaching form could say next, "it was unfair of you to keep me in the dark when you could've easily told me. you knew i would help and don't give me the "i didn't want to pull you into my trouble" because that's not something you get to decide for me."

silence ensued for the longest time, well, at least for him. to you, only a minute and a half had passed as you phrased your following words in your head. time was not askew and it did none of the fancy slow-mo shots they do in overly tragic telenovelas. it was just silence — an unbearable kind that still had him waiting with bated breath.

"you know... you really suck at expressing your feelings," you snort humorlessly as you sat beside him a mere few inches away from touching him, "no one translates "we can't keep doing this forever" to "i can't keep giving you less than what you deserve." not like it matters because it's not your place to decide for me in any way. only i can do that for myself and i don't know where you or timaeus learned that it's okay to do that but it sucks for you guys because it doesn't matter what you think. if i'm happy and content in receiving all that your sincerity can offer then that's that. you don't get to argue or leave me hanging just because you think i deserve chocolates or flowers every other day."

this time, you don't miss the way albedo nibbled at his lips with a profound sense of loss. this conversation was something beyond what he could ever hope to expect. he was a so-called genius and his hypothesis included your screams of anger but seeing you so understanding made his heart constrict in a way that knocked him off his rational thoughts.

"i'm sorry."

"what happened to "i'm not here to apologize?" came your snarky reply but not even a few moments later, you were uttering your own apology for your sharp tone, "i'm not... forgiving you. i don't think there's any way you can justify your actions but... i know you. you're socially awkward and you miss the innuendos that usually came with your innocent words. you're... i don't know... you're too honest and i knew that you cared loads for me as a friend and i return the sentiment. it doesn't matter if you could only see me as a friend for the rest of your life but... i don't want to lose you. i can't forgive you right now but i'm selfishly asking you to make it up to me... someway... somehow."

social interactions were not his cup of tea because it reminded him too much of everything that could go wrong with just one misplaced sentence. still, albedo finds himself with renewed determination to try, only following the correct steps this time around.

"you were wrong about one thing," he mumbles as he averts his gaze from yours one last time, "i do like you more than you believe i do. i like you enough to admit that you deserve more than the socially inept seat mate you have."

you snort, "if you're trying to win me back, please don't tell me that's your best shot."

"not precisely... i still have flowers and chocolates to give you every other day," albedo shakes his head with the beginnings of a mildly amused smile.

it was eleven in the evening when you see albedo out of your house and you couldn't help but note how happy you are that you didn't sleep early and miss a night so beautiful with a perfect full moon.

。 DILUC — “ noctua | owl ”

how do you know if you love someone? is it when they make you remember yourself despite living in a world that makes you forget your unique identity? is it when you find someone's body to be just the right kind of warmth to wake up to? love was a strange thing and diluc often finds himself remembering that it was a terrifying thing too. love makes you do all sorts of extremes and the fear that your other half loves you less than you love them was enough to make him hesitate.

how else would he piece himself back together when he is hurting if he was to avoid plotting a distance?

as a child, he never liked playing house. it all seemed too romanticized. sure, the domesticity was real but growing up with an adopted brother and a single father who he saw very rarely because of work made him realize a lot of things. kaeya would fight him over the littlest things and he would end up fighting back even when he swore he'll be the bigger person. it's not something out of hate as it was more out of mischief but it doesn't change the fact that those perfect, calm households all appeared to be a hoax when he looks at kaeya and the chaos he brews around himself.

still, diluc ragnvindr was a human who craved intimacy and a place to come home to. as cheesy as it sounds, it would be nice to find someone who'll find belongingness in his embrace like two puzzles clicking together. it must be fun to let loose and be mundane, dancing in the kitchen with blinking light bulbs waiting to be changed. he wondered how long it'll take for that person to enter the doors of his newly bought apartment — or rather, if he'll have the courage to let them in. as romantic as proclaiming "i'm home" is, he knew that an other half can turn into a stranger in minutes, leaving behind only the ruins of what that home was. it doesn't matter how long they stayed together because, in one second, he would've had only memories of what love was to cry over.

he's afraid of commitment. he was scared of losing. so what? he was fresh out of college and anything goes. he bumped into someone whose eyes screamed "welcome home" and the murky skies of his mind told him that it was best to just visit and go back on his merry way. diluc wasn't a romantic and so he definitely didn't believe in love at first sight. he was lonely, yes, but he wasn't quite insane enough to entrust a stranger he bumped into with all of his heart and wonder. instead, he handed you his handkerchief to wipe away the remnants of the coffee on your shirt, and gave you his number for renumeration. it was common courtesy and with that, he leaves.

it was by chance when he heard sobs inside the office pantry one year later, and ever the gentleman, he sat beside you silently in a wordless act of comfort. he's just being a decent human being, he argues as the wind howled in his head. he was certainly not patting your back despite his bones creaking from uncertainty and awkwardness because he felt drawn to you, and the hopeless thunder in his heart? it's likely only concern for his colleague. though time ticks away quickly and diluc never had a penchant for delaying his duties, he stays and hides the turmoil in his eyes behind voids akin to those in space. that way his beloved distance remains to keep him secure.

"thank you," you croak out with a pitiful smile, "sorry for ruining your handkerchief again..."

he swallows, tells you its fine before dismissing himself once more. he may be no astronomer but big bangs disturbed the heart he was trying to still. merely being objective, he convinces himself as he stared at his confused reflection. admitting that the constellations in your eyes — burning, passionate, explosive booms, and supernovas — were beautiful was merely being honest and factual, nothing more, nothing less.

diluc breathes, only to muffle a curse as kaeya cackled behind his back, "what's this i'm seeing? my dear brother has a crush on the intern?"

the world stills as if caught red-handed but diluc refused to plead guilty. instead, he shoots a glare and a muffled "you don't know what you're saying" before witlessly fixing the files on his desk. ever the troublemaker, kaeya begins chattering about you and diluc paid very little attention, too absorbed in tapping his fingers against the wooden frame in thought.

he learned your name and objectively speaking, it suited your face a lot.

in retrospect, it was then that all went downhill as a particularly insistent business partner offered an heir's hand for his perusal. if only it ended there, but he had managed to catch the same heir's eye and they all but thrown themselves over his lap just to catch his attention. though thoroughly amused, kaeya took pity on diluc and told that person that he was, in fact, in a happy relationship with someone. to make matters worse, kaeya had offered your name, thus convincing diluc to talk to you before the heir sees through their blatant lie.

asking for your time was easy enough but as you peered into his soul with an innocent smile, his face contorted to one of nervousness and helplessness. how could he bring up that kaeya had dragged you into his mess and that he was hoping that you could help him in this horrible ruse? but even more troubling was the sweat in his palms, the fear of rejection in his heart — every minuscule detail that made this situation cherry-sweet and real. he knew it was wrong to fool you into thinking that it was all a lie but was it really wrong to crave intimacy minus the inevitability of being hurt? it was a madness he started and when you pulled him into an embrace as you accepted his feelings, diluc felt his guilt being washed away by light showers. how much was his statement a lie if it has always been the untold truth?

another year passed and the light showers that cleared his head has turned into a storm that flooded his mind with anxiety. everything felt vivid now. the way your hands cup his cheeks, the way you smile at him when he comes home from work, the way you ask him about his day — everything was real and the fear that came with the increasingly affectionate touches he gives you became less fictitious.

he loves you. what has he done? how does he even begin to explain the truth that was hidden behind the curtain this past year? will you leave him because of it? he admits that it would be smart to do so.

"what time will you be coming home?"

“i’ll be ho—” he pauses, shaking his head with a deep frown before he turns his back on you, “i’ll be back by eight. you don’t need to wait for me.”

“it’s fine… i’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes. stay safe. i love you.”

he reluctantly nods and he feels you watch as his back vanishes from your line of sight. when he heard the door click close, diluc runs a hand down his face in frustration. a curse falls down his lips and he defeatedly looks up at the greying skies. you had reminded him of the weather forecast and if you weren't there, he'd probably be arriving at the office drenched. guilt boils down in his stomach and cools as remembers your sweet greetings. you were always too good to him — for him. though fear screams at him from the edges of his mind, he loves you and he feels that he owes you his honesty.

no matter the cost.

perhaps he was sick — crazy evil for still having the hope that maybe, just maybe, after all this time, you would still give him your favor and offer him a sweet and tender smile that eases all of his aches. would you cry? would you leave? his wounded heart trembles. if he thought you leaving him was bad enough, clearly he was unready for the sight of your tears; tears that he bought as it was ultimately he who drove the sword in, not kaeya who had merely suggested the idea in jest.

with an unreadable expression, diluc sank deeper into the luxurious seat of his car — the same one he bought because he was told it was charming to drive (the hidden intent of trying to boost his charm in your eyes must not go unrealized). he laughs emptily at that, starting the engine methodically as guilt once again eats him up like a bloodthirsty viper. if he could only have one wish, he’d hope that he could turn back time to the days that a mere mention of your name would send him into a fit of gut-wrenching remorse.

lies were dirty. lies were horrible. lies never amounted to anything good. and even after knowing all of that, you stay and diluc wonders why. had he been in your shoes, he would probably packed his bags and left a long while ago. no amount of water could wash away the grime that is the weight of a play-pretend that only had one willing actor. did it not hurt more than it’s worth? he slows to a stop as the light went from yellow to red and he takes this time to reminisce about his absence this past year. with that he decides that he truly was not worthy of any of your love.

not like it mattered, not ever. you were too kind and too generous; a true angel who spares no one their warm embrace.

with slow and heavy steps, diluc trudges towards the winding halls of his building. with the interest of an eroding rock, he attended his meetings. with the loud ticking of a clock, diluc signed paper after paper with a distracted glaze over his eyes. he was sure that his odd behavior earned him a few wary glances but that was a mere afterthought to his increasing dread. the only thing that could help him now was a boring routine — a routine that takes his mind away from the drive home and his confession. but even that can only take him so far as before long, he was once again facing the entrance to your house — home, really, if he was going to take his honesty with him.

his keys turned with a small ‘click’ and the door opens. warm, yellow light peeks out from the kitchen and he finds himself in a space he ironically feels comforted in. here, there is no anxiety. just your welcoming gaze and your apron-clad self in its full glory. somehow, even with the remnants of flour on your hands and cheeks, you’re still the epitome of purity.

was it finally time?

"i'm back,” he swallows but before he could dislodge the word from his throat, you beat him to it.

"welcome home," you smiled ever so gently, "so... how was your day?"

you’ve always been like this, playing your role with effortless ease that it hurts him.

"it was alright. have you eaten dinner yet?"

"i was waiting for you. let's?"

"let's."

and what can a selfish man do but find a salve that removes that burning pain of cowardice?

it took only five steps to find heaven and as it turns out, heaven was your hands tangled in his hair as you pulled him impossibly close, sweet lips pressed against his. it’s the irreplaceable kind and diluc was convinced that even if the world were to burn outside right now, he would not be able to part from the astronomical pull of your person — just as it had always been.

。 TARTAGLIA — “ monoceros caeli | narwhal sky ”

if he could laugh at only one joke for the rest of his life, he’d choose to laugh at himself and the immense foolishness that seemed to run through his veins more prominently than his own blood. he’s a fool — an even greater fool than the romanticists who adore all things reminiscent of their muse — for letting go of possibly the greatest love he’ll ever come across in his lifetime.

growing up with doe-eyed sisters and a picturesque couple in his mother and father, ajax loved the idea of soulmates. he lived for it, daydreaming of one day locking eyes with someone who will always be there for him. he closes his eyes and he sees a beauty blessed by aphrodite and a heart favored by eros. just thinking about it makes him flex his hands that are hardened and scarred from an accident back when he was seven. he sees his muse shine radiantly as they cradle his rough hands into their own, pressing little kisses on each ruined flesh in a soft profession of “you’re perfect. everything about you from your unruly hair to your deep blue eyes to your tender gaze is perfect and i love you for it.” sure, maybe the poetries were exaggerated but those exaggeration bleeds of hope; of a determination to overcome even the most cruelest of pains and ajax, ever a fighter, finds that he loves it. if believing in everything that could go right instead of everything that could go wrong dubs him a fool, then a fool he should be and a proud one at that. he’s loved before and yes, they haven’t all been pretty but he thanks the stars and the moons above that he met them anyway. for him and probably every other brave soul out there, love is more than just meeting and tolerating. it is also finding and growing and being in the most preciously delicate of ways. it’s beautiful in a way that no man can ever hope to describe because it is all in the heart; all embedded in the soul that speaks its own kind of indecipherable language.

ariel was a warrior and he always believed it so. she took a leap of faith by trading what was dear to her person in order to gain and become one with someone who could give her so much more. cinderella, too, was a warrior. she overcome the fear and the years of doubt engraved into her being by her malicious family for the sake of coming home to someone who can wash away all that pain. that’s love — finding strength in another and becoming greater than you could ever be had you been walking on your own. love was as glorious as they claim it to be: it feeds your eyes images of a thousand fireflies and your stomach, a kaleidoscope of wild butterflies that dance in celebration of your fluttering heart. love was as magical as they claim it to be: ajax finding himself giggling with his siblings at 2am as they binged an obscure rom-com series from the 90s with colorful hopes for the future. the soft light of the television illuminates their face as they all proclaim in their heads, “someday… someday, that love will be mine and it will be more than enough.”

love isn’t a painkiller, at least, not to him. it’s something closer to a vitamin that invigorates your restless mind. love is something supernatural and yet, so ironically mundane. it’s not a one-two fix for any of your woes but it does leave you laughing incredulously as you find yourself charging ahead with your flames renewed. maybe he’s lived a relatively peaceful life to be able to say such words but everything seemed so easy as long as he could find it in his trembling legs to jump and free fall into whatever that may come to pass. he’s blessed that way; that his family taught him how to nurture another’s soul while letting them return the favor; that the authors in the few books he has read all spoke of how despite being imperfect and scared, people still choose to love just because they could; that the old ladies in the nursing home he volunteers at all said that while hurt has come to them in more ways than one, they bore no regrets because the happiness they gained from their experiences patches that hurt all too easily. it’s strange and complex and far too intricate for his simple mind but he knew that if there is only one thing and one thing alone that he knows for sure, it’s that people need love.

love is what colors the world with the blue in his eyes and the pink on his flushed cheeks. love is what makes him see glimpses of yellow and green at each blooming romance of young high schoolers who are still testing the waters. it’s a vibrant, mind-blowing shade that throws even the power of jupiter to shame. after all, what else will you call a power so supreme that it pushes you to live, live, and live some more? he has yet to find that kind of love for himself but he knows that it will come eventually. someday, he will love someone and they will love him back and they would put james dean and audrey hepburn to shame. they will dance with him to the tune of ‘can’t help falling in love’ because they truly can’t help but fall for each other every time they’d flash a gummy smile and they will fall asleep side-by-side on the living room as the credits of some mediocre hallmark film plays in the background.

yeah… that sounds about right… sounds about what everyone deserves to have…

they say that twenties was the marriage age but ajax argues that there is no "one" time for love. he does make the effort of putting himself out there as his friends called it but that was that. he was in no particular rush and he finds no need to plead for destiny’s threads to pull him forward. destiny was an expert in reverse psychology though because ajax received an answer to a prayer unsung and he found it at the corner of an overhyped cafe a few blocks away from home.

he found the idea of love at first sight cute but always thought that it wasn’t for him. it was unfair to think about now that he learned that it didn’t matter a single bit what he thought because love comes however it wants. in that crowded place, time seemed to stop and so did his heart that froze before starting back up with a pace that would usually send him flying off the walls. his throat closes up as he hurriedly averts his gaze from you in the middle of a flustered panic. was his hair fine? did he remember to wear his lucky cologne? seemingly useless questions flitted through his mind and before long, he was at the front of the counter ordering some random coffee brew because he just couldn’t be bothered. was this what the bards meant when they said “you’ll know it when it happens”?

with a hesitant step forward, he cleared his throat before smiling apologetically (and he hopes it also came off as charming), “is this seat taken? sorry, i can’t see any other empty space…”

so what if he said a little lie? so what if the second floor of the cafe had a few spare tables? if he was going to shoot his shot, he might as well omit all the negative details from his head — just like the tense frown you were wearing from the moment he saw you.

ajax waited with bated breath and stiff muscles as you considered your options. when you sighed in defeat, he sighed in relief and he all but slammed his tray in a hurry in case you suddenly change your mind. he was barely situated in when you brought out your headphones. panic-stricken, he wore another bright smile as he tapped on your mug, “what’s your order? it looks good!”

you frowned and ajax winced internally because of all things he could say, he says the one thing that didn’t make sense, “good? the most you could see is the murky leftovers of the good parts. what’s there to look at?”

“i guess but,” he shrugged relaxedly (it was all an act), “is anything really good if you could only appreciate it on its best of days?”

he thought that he caught himself well but you seemed to disagree, rolling your eyes and completely ignoring him by the next second. he halfheartedly twirled his straw, wondering if he just sucked at conversing with attractive people or if you were just naturally pessimistic and cold. either way, the defeated slouch of his body was not hard to see by any interested onlooker.

so what if he was a romantic? he didn't think that there was something to be ashamed of in embracing a positive outlook in an otherwise dreary world. there was nothing wrong with adoring chick-flicks and pumpkin spice lattes during fall. there was nothing strange with choosing to highlight the good than the bad. there was nothing to criticize in the way he immediately felt drawn to you like two halves of a whole separated for the longest time and suddenly — by complete happenstance — finding each other again. so what if he believed in the irrational notion of soulmates? he'd stand his ground through it all if it meant being able to turn what appears to be a permanent frown on your face into a smile.

he's seen you before in his dreams and it's rather amazing how you beat all the odds when you chose to come at the right day and time and prove to him that you do exist in real life. you had the fire he imagined he'd gladly dance in and the small pout that would put all those celebrities to shame. you could tell him that adonis and aphrodite have nothing on you and he'd believe it in a heartbeat. it's this weird magnetic pull that makes him stare like some poet that wishes to immortalize your attractiveness in his books. the one time he diverts his gaze, he sees you catching a staring at him from the mirror that hung from the wall close by. fueled by the adrenaline and perhaps, hope, he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels.

"if you wanted to look, you don't need to be so sneaky about it."

he watched you blink, eyebrows pulling together in a show of annoyance as he sent a wink for good measure. without a skip of a beat, you said, "you have something on your lip."

"what? fuck..." he had been too preoccupied with your reflection that he didn't catch his. now, his mind was in shambles and dark thoughts filled them in response to his embarrassment. "shit, i thought i was being slick and all that—"

though troubled, he didn't miss the small smile that graced your lips that you tried to hide with your hoodie. he counts that as a win so he shoots you a big grin before looking down at his coffee. hesitation brews in his heart but it was now or never so clearing his throat, he asks. "hey, can i get your number?"

you demeanor changes and for the nth time, ajax beats himself up in regret.

"easy there! i'm really not trying to get in your pants or something. i just thought you were pretty cool and i figured we'll be good buddies!"

he gave it his best shot in damage control but you still refused to give it. he asked nineteen times in total and for the twentieth time, he calls upon the world to give him just one sign that you're really the one for him and so, he proposes a game of rock, paper, scissors — placing everything at the hands of his luck and to fate.

you lost.

but he lost too, he chuckled emptily as he twirled the stirrer in his cup. here he was, still sat at the corner of the cafe you first met in but this time, there was no you. he burned that bridge foolishly because of some drunken drawl incited by irrelevant fears. what a joke. he lost you faster than it took to fall for you which was absurdly swift even in the dictionaries of the gurus. you're midnight wine and campfire talks and hushed giggles in the corner of a big, storied library. you were everything he asked for even when sometimes, you behave like the exact opposite of him. that has always been fine though. opposites attract until he had to ruin it with his stupid mouth.

he should've known better; should've known that all the good things in his life would come crashing down because of him.

the pain in your voice was something that would haunt his nights for the rest of his life, possibly even the lives after that. when you asked why the fuck he'd done the things that he did, he can't even bring himself to look for answers because why the fuck did he? he could only watch as your face morphs into a person he once knew and killed — the you that was cynical and doubtful of good intentions; the you that hated disney films and fairy tales because it's too good to be true; the version of you that would refuse to draw matching hearts when he'd write your name in the back pages of your notebook.

'can't help falling in love' plays in the cafe radio and ajax runs a hand across his face in humanity's greatest portrayal of the character, misery. it was in moments like this when figments of the past you shared come passing around him like shadows that he realizes how much his heart longs to just grip the clock and turn the hands of time himself. he misses the way you'd laugh as he curses out the liars in tv shows. he misses the way he misses you every time you had work and now, your split second replies had all turned into one sided conversations in blue. what can he do?

"what's this? you look pathetic." he jolts in his seat as if all he needed was to hear the voice he hasn't heard in weeks to come back to life. ajax decides against saying that you were far from faring any better. your eyes were swollen like you haven't stopped crying all this time and your lips were trembling at the mere sight of him. his lips twitch up at that. guess he still had some effect on you... he'd rejoice if his tongue wasn't tied in undoable knots. "well? you wanted to talk and now that i'm here, you're not saying anything."

you place yourself before him, setting down a tray that had the same steaming drink you ordered before. he was right. it did look good on its best form.

"you feel unreal. i dreamt of you so many times these days that i don't know if i just finally lost it since you're actually talking to me this time."

there was no response, just the white noise of people having their own conversations that were faring far better than his own. a lump forms on his throat and he forces it down like the way he forces himself to meet your gaze. he didn't know what to expect to see but it certainly wasn't concern.

"just... i don't know... start from the beginning, i guess? i want to know what could possibly be running through your oh-so-brilliant mind for everything to end up like this."

so he tells you everything from the start. from his love at first sight that you couldn't help but laugh at since he spared no details and no thoughts for his dignity, the stalker that has been bothering him for years, the night he drank his concerns away, the way he adored how you rushed and picked him up when he couldn't even stand, the desperate attempt to remove that unsettling feeling in his chest, the timid but excited smile he was greeted with when he woke up to your excited smile, the instance he knew he fucked up, the dreams of a heart stopping confession fading away like a wisp, the fear of losing you if you find out that how it started out was a misunderstanding even if everything else was the truth, and finally, the gratitude he can't help but gurgle out through his tears. all this time, you listened, not interrupting him for one second except for when you awkwardly slid the paper towels in your tray over to him when he started having a breakdown.

you stayed silent for quite some time, ruminating on your thoughts and ajax believes he hasn't known anxiety until today. five minutes passed before you spoke with an unreadable smile, "you're an idiot, you know that?"

"...excuse me?"

"you're an idiot. i don't know how i fell for you," you sigh as the chair creaks when you leaned back, "but i did and for some reason, i can't find it in myself to regret it when emotions died down."

there was just no way that the man you knew who liked having raspberry sherbet after kicking the ass of some random date that stood you up was fake. you chose to believe that not because of some optimistic dream but because it might as well become a scientifically proven truth. he was a guy, well-built and kind, actually clumsy but firm and honorable and— fuck, he has honor and principles in his bloodstream that you decided to give him a chance to explain.

"i didn't block you, you know... i saw each message you sent me hence this," you motion to yourself with a stiff smile.

"oh."

ajax swallows before looking back down to his drink that now turned lukewarm and murky. it stops him from forming any thoughts and he's unsure if he's happy with that since it meant being left alone with the muddled reflection that stared back at him.

"i... honestly don't know what to tell you, ajax, but i... i understand where you came from and i don't think i'm getting the closure i was supposed to get today."

just like back then, he steels himself.; he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels although this time, it's weaker and wearier in comparison.

"is that some roundabout way of telling me i can still win you over?"

you don't respond again, only sipping on your drink for the first time that day, and neither of you knew what to make of that.

it's cynicism that saves young hearts from recklessly bolting out of their well-made confines to find something that didn't exist. it's scrutiny that disproves the existence of love and by extension — the macabre heartbreak you were never meant to feel. it's hope that ruins everything that guards your delicate heart. you didn't believe in happy-ever-afters, no, not after all that, but for some reason, you think that this story isn't meant to end in this bitter note after all. maybe the tragedies you heard off were, all this time, interpreted differently by the people who lived it.

shit... you should know better but he was someone you'd risk it all for and that's the dilemma. you supposed you owe him a part of your humor. in this irony, for the first time in a few weeks, you feel like you can laugh again and mean it — genuinely and wholly.

"please—" ajax speaks abruptly, eyes shaking as he eyed your now empty cup, "don't go... not yet..."

you don't. not yet.

。 XIAO — “ alatus nemeseos | winged nemesis ”

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. it's a bitter acceptance that stops you from falling into the pitfall that is called existential crisis. in a way, it's a philosophical view that is both an answer and not in a big world overflowing with questions because truly, how exactly would you attempt to prove the nature of consciousness? of souls and minds? of their eternal nature or their temporality? what exactly was real?

xiao, at least, believed that this was solution enough. you may never know if the love in someone else's eyes weigh as much as the one you held in yours but at least, you're certain that it is real and there's no more need to spare doubt on something equivocal in spirit. you don't need to question their 3am thoughts, their strange thought process and conspiracies because it's something that just exists. they exist and you know them. you know their soul and their body and their mind; know what keeps them awake at night and the untold fears that has never seen the light of day until now. he'd know. he feels it every single time in every single conversation. he's kinda you and you're kinda him and it's so easy to say that you belong side-by-side together because there is some unexplainable, hidden force tying a string in your hand and in his. whenever he's in bed, thinking of nothing but which series to binge watch with you next, he knows that you exist and he exists with you.

you've always been his best friend — now and forevermore in each version of ending regardless if it's a happy ever after or not. the insomnia that plagues your mind is something that he mirrors and each night passes easier ever since he met you. whether it be imessage billiards or some philosophical dilemma you found because of your brilliant mind, he types for god knows how long until he settles for a reply that's worthy of your time. he likes you and that's why it doesn't matter to him if he comes to school with dark circles underneath his eyes. he likes you. of course he did. it's harder to not like you than it is to stop breathing. you're everything that he's not — soft and well-rounded, always knowing the right words to say when he's feeling numb after a day of exhausting exchanges. you're not the best at one-sided conversations but the way you'd squeeze his hand in yours is a whole tale in itself. you're his favorite person and for that alone, he speaks the words that are so hard to come to him on normal days.

he says 'i passed by your favorite cafe so i got us some drinks' but mean 'i thought of you while going through my daily life' because he gets so overwhelmed by the saccharine taste of those words when it finally comes down to it. each sentence is some profound expression of his heart and it leaves him trembling in his doc martens every single goddamn time, leaving him to regret not saying what he truly meant later at night when everything's said and done. 'these songs reminded me of you and i don't know how to thank you for being in my life,' 'you're my favorite person and your face is the one that pops inside my mind when i think of the one person i don't ever want to lose,' and ' i love you'; so many things he wanted to say but cowardice comes around to bite his throat until not even a word can be coughed out.

when did the switch between platonic to romantic happen? when did your name become the missing piece to the absurd solution to an equally absurd problem? who knows... maybe it was never platonic in the first place and he just never noticed because mysterianism cannot explain your soul. everything's blurry these days and the only clear thing in his incomprehensible mind was the recognition of the sharp pains that throb in his chest whenever he eyes the last text message you sent.

he loves you. he loves his best friend and your shitty playlist and your store-bought cookies. he loves the criticism you spout whenever the random movie you managed to put on turned out to be some horribly written romance. he loves the way you'd send him random memes throughout the day for no good reason other than you can. he loves you and he misses you especially on late nights like this when your replies came as scarce as water in the desert. was it desperation? some god's pity? he thinks no further before trying again, sending another "hey" among the many he has sent before in an attempt to start a conversation.

he can't explain why he's still staring at his phone expectantly... what does he expect to see?

it chimes and xiao jolts up like a child on their birthday morning.

words are beautiful. they can convey anything from sorrow to glee to adoration and hatred. they're like roses in that sense and roses were dangerous. they're thorned and adorned with hidden malicious meanings. you've given him roses before and he never feared being pricked by them because he knows you. that's why the anxiety he feels now is unfamiliar — because now he doesn't know if he's ever understood you at all.

your half-hearted, playing innocent replies greeted him and the conversation ended faster than what was once the usual but it was a start. he managed to invite you to his next performance and that... well, he supposed it was something to be happy over. amber eyes strayed to find the hoodie that he gave you that he never managed to return. with renewed vigor, xiao kisses the idea of getting any sleep tonight a wonderful goodbye. he has better things to do and words? words are beautiful but they fail him more often than not. if he could get someone else to say the words he desperately wanted to say for him, would it matter? it's still real, is it not? regardless of its validity, the rest of the night was silent save for the soft strumming of a guitar and lonely humming.

friday afternoon came faster than he anticipated and so did the lump on his throat. backstage, his arms feel like jelly that was strangely conducting electricity to the tips of his cold hands. his legs weren't feeling any better being comparable to lead itself. he hates this, he thinks and he mussed up his hair with an annoyed groan. whatever... whatever! xiao repeatedly mumbles to himself as his grip on his guitar's neck grows ever tighter.

if not anything else, then he was still your friend. he has that, at least. he still has you even if it'll never be the same as before.

his band mate tells him they're on stage in five and he peeks through the curtains to see you nursing a drink by the exit. you were wearing one of his shirts and he wonders; do you wear it because you still care about him somewhat or have you just forgotten that it was his once upon a time? regardless, his heart that was already in such a dangerous position trembles at the sight of you. it beats against his ribcage until the excited cheers of the crowd becomes a whisper compared to his own heartbeat.

has it been weeks since he last saw you? it all feels unreal.

"for the first song," xiao tuned out the band's lead singer who just finished hyping up the crowd, busying himself with adjusting the grain for his electric guitar so that he didn't have to meet the gaze that he knows is focused solely on him — just like other times, "it's actually written by our guitarist, xiao. we hope you enjoy it."

what does it mean to say something? was it merely sending your thoughts to another? whatever it was, it can't possibly be the way xiao could only spare you a passing glance before he had to grit his teeth, feelings of sadness, regret, and longing bubbling to the surface of his normally schooled expression. he catches your raised brow, eyes surprised and dare he say it, concerned, as he finds his world closing in on him.

"if i could turn back time... if I could find a way, i'd take back those words that've hurt you and you'd stay."

relationships ruin friendships, they say. xiao just never considered that there would be an end to something that seems so inexplicably perfect. holding onto hope was foolish but a part of him considered that maybe... maybe you'd find the answer to your question in his song and stop this cruel game of tag.

"i don't know why i did the things i did. i don't know why i said the things i said"

liquid courage was nothing compared to the state of his sanity. you had on the most unreadable expression he's ever seen. heck, you had never reacted like that the entire time he knew you; not when you had sat so close together, knees and arms touching under one blanket and not when he came knocking on your door one rainy night.

"words are like weapons, they wound sometimes."

he strums his guitar, words — lyrics — popping in his mind in time with the singer who was singing his heart out. words are beautiful because sometimes, they tell you exactly what you want to hear and this time, he means it. it is real. him on the stage, you by the bar; this is reality and each word he wrote for you are the words he hadn't been strong enough to say the night you became mercury and him, pluto.

"i didn't really mean to hurt you," he sees you cover your face with your hand and he stills, wondering if he messed up all over again, "i didn't wanna see you go."

before you were whatever this was, he was your best friend. he used to look out for you in his stupid, unconventional ways because that's the best he could do in his awkward, socially inept skin. he would wordlessly pass his lecture notes to you, pay for your fast-food runs, sign your excuse letters so it wouldn't be obviously fake. he never knew why he made such an effort with you when if it were anybody else, he'd scoff and move on with his day. looking back, maybe he knew the answer all this time. he's in love with you. for real this time.

you're kinda him so you knew what he meant with those words, "if I could reach the stars, i'd give 'em all to you. then you'd love me, love me, like you used to do."

such bittersweet words shake your resolve and you don't know how much more you can take. you're taken back to christmas eves spent in your apartment, hot cocoa and foam on his lips as 'the grinch' plays on the background. you finally meet his eyes after a long while of avoidance and you knew that he's there too.

"when you walked out that door i swore that i didn't care but i lost everything, darlin', then and there."

words were truly beautiful.

this time, he doesn't escape the conversation that must be had and you didn't either. he leaves his guitar the moment the song ends and runs to the backstage where you stand there looking aimless and very, very real. reaching his hand towards you was instinct — like he couldn't believe this was reality and you respond in kind, knowing how lonely it is to be alone in not knowing what you can believe in.

"you'll..." he sighs when your skin touches his, hands interlinking just as how he was used to, “we'll be okay, right?"

"maybe? i think so..."

you sent him a watery smile and downing pride and fear better than vodka, he tugs your body until you're as close as can be. xiao still can't help but wonder if this is a dream.

you're his best friend and more. selfishly, he doesn't want to lose you — not again after coming back from that hell. you're the one who pulls him back when his aggression takes the better of him. you're the one who stubbornly forces tylenol down his throat whenever he was feeling sick. you were the one who approached him first and stayed even when he refused to return the trust you give him whenever you question everything in this world. you knew him and his intricacies first, the same way he was the first to unearth yours. you're the one who keeps his mind from spiraling — the solution to every single problem he can't seem to understand.

"don't cry," you murmur through your own tears, "i can't stand seeing you cry."

he can't help it, body relaxing with each passing second as the distance between you decreases once more, just as it should always be. frost thaws like the first day of spring. suddenly, it was like the december nights he endured were but a part of his imagination; his weird consciousness manipulating the sensory experience of bearing through the lack of warmth emitted by your body in his hold.

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. the relief that renews his bones is one that cannot be explained and he preferred it this way out of the fear that if he questions it too deeply, the world will take offense and take you away from him again. his love and your forgiveness, though he can understand neither, he feels nothing but gratitude. it's beautiful, isn't it? in this vast world, you and him made perfect sense and no science or craft can ever come close to placing a value to the way your lovely smile was enough to calm all the raging thoughts in his head.

there was still so much that needs to be said — to be talked through — but that can wait until tomorrow morning. today, he basks in joy. love disappoints and love changes but he was able to catch you before you fully depart. he eyes your face and he can still read through your micro-expressions that speak so loudly of the way you were feeling the same things he was. he sees you and you're still the same as he remembers, if not more precious. it's you. it's really you and admitting it makes him feel like he's one of those down bad boys from dramas who'd jump and scream their professions of love from high school rooftops. and well, if that's what it takes to steal your heart away, he'd gladly be one with this version of him in some other universe.

"you've been staring at me for quite some time now," you promptly avoid his gaze when you hear the familiar lilt that cues his mischief, "you're not still thinking that you're the only conscious mind in this world, right?"

"...well, aren't you such a dream to have?"

mysterianism is a word and words are beautiful especially when it's so powerful that it can patch up old wounds in a minute.

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@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @fiannee @nejibot @mininji @scaramew

#genshin #albedo #diluc #childe #xiao #tartaglia #genshin scenario #genshin imagine #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #gi x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 #—𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 #genshin angst

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ladylaviniya · 9 months

Text

The Spirit of Christmas Eve

Masterlist || Chapter 1 ll Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: After an unexpected visit from your younger, overly pregnant and concerned sister- you are yet again put into a terrible mood. You receive a night visit from the ghost of your predecessor and fall into an abyss of confusion.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Disrespect to Homeless People, R4pe Fantasies, Masturbation, Dark Joke about Abortion, Hinted Xenophobia, Humiliation, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Drug Use, Classism.

Word Count: 5k

Author Notes: This is a parody of the classic "A Christmas Carol" story by Dickens, I hope you come to enjoy it even though the pov holds cruel, toxic and abusive traits.

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09:00am, 24th December 2023, New York City.

Oh how you hated the holidays. You hated the red and green colouring, you hated the carolling groups and bands singing every day in December leading up to the wretched twenty fifth. You hate the baby Jesus in a manager nativity set ups.

‘Jesus wasn’t even fucking born on Christmas. He was a January baby according to Jewish scholars. It was all a ploy to satisfy and celebrate Yule with pagans before encouraging indoctrination!!’

And the smell of peppermint, gingerbread and fatty sugary foods left you feeling sickly.

“Unnecessary calories to dissolve the enamel of my teeth when it comes back up in the goddamn toilet.”

The cold air and the slippery frost brought you no delight. Along the way you would kick the snow men in your walking path. You despised the bratty children sitting on the Santa laps in the malls.

‘Their parents should know half of those fat ass Santa actors are just paedophiles getting their kicks once a year? Yea I’d love a little boy all prim and plump to sit on my lap if I was a sicko in a red suit too.’

You hated the fact they were bringing Christmas trees in the day after Halloween.

“Sure, it spins the wheel of capitalism but God, do they have to look so trashy? Christmas is once a year, not two months long.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you strutted the street to your work place.

Your senior associate Marlene who you could’ve considered your friend had a heart attack early that year. She was a woman in her prime, at forty years old she had managed to build her business empire. No husband, no kids, no pets. She didn’t need those things, not when she raked in over four million dollars a year. She drank and smoked like a chimney, you wondered if it contributed to her death in the end. She was rumoured to be found naked, getting fucked by some no name sexy twenty-one year old playboy from South Korea. And among her blissful orgasm, her heart just couldn’t handle the pressure and faltered.

Imagine his horror. Balls deep and not knowing she had died. Little shit tried getting her money in the inheritance scheme. He tried pushing that he was her long committed boyfriend. One threat to the immigration department sent that kid running for the kills back to Seoul.

You were named successor in her Will. Now, it’s not like you needed her millions, you already had a full pocket. At twenty five you’d made your first million all because you picked the right pattern in your investments and put every cent into them. You worked instead of partied. And many had said behind your back that it made you a miserable sourpuss bitch with no friends. You didn’t need friends. Marlene was just a funny coincidence.

Some might have called you careless, impulsive, and greedy. But what that translates to you was the word ‘Wealth and Success’. You were wealthy and money made you happy. The more numbers, the more joy in your cold heart.

You entered the building that was now yours. Oh did I forget to remind you...you were the CEO of your tax collecting firm. I think that’s important for you to know.

Entering the sleek grey, white and black minimalist foyer you sighed in relief. No Christmas or holiday bullshit in here. You had banned all decorations and affiliations.

And you refused paid leave to anyone asking not to work on Christmas day. You remember scoffing last night at the amount of requests you had received about time off for the holidays.

‘I’m running a business, not a charity.’

Christmas was the best time of year for your job. So many stupid people take out stupid loans they can’t afford especially during the holidays period when gift giving is the centre cause of financial stress. You got a thrill out of denying loans and upping payment interest rates for those suckers who didn’t make their payments on time because they chose to spend the money meant to be going into your pocket on some disposable wrapping paper and a cheap pharmacy gift last minute.

As you stepped into the elevator you smiled cynically at the empty space. You could look at yourself in the mirror and pick apart all the things you loved and hated about your body. It was strangely therapeutic. Something about the critiques gave you a massive high.

But just as the elevator doors where closing a hand slammed hard through the gap.

“Wait!” came a familiar cry. Your face fell and you felt a tight discomfort seeing the face of your younger sister. Caroline.

Your eyes shot down to her belly. Big as a house in the ugliest knit Christmas sweater.

‘Pregnant again. Jesus Christ. What’s this? Number four now?’

You clenched your handbag tighter. You tried recalling some sort of baby shower invite from months ago, you totally forgot about it once you moved it to junk mail.

‘If she fucking asks me for money again, I swear to god she’s risking an abortion voucher in a Christmas card...are abortion vouchers even a thing?’

Caroline had married her highschool sweetheart, he was some sort of mechanic or something. A bum, like your Dad. You couldn’t believe she was dumb enough to breed with an imbecile like him. Mind you, her first son was clearly an teen pregnancy accident that sealed them together. And every year, she just seemed to pop out a new one. And every year that meant you gave her a fat cheque, usually six thousand dollars.

You ground your teeth as she forced herself inside and pressed the button of the doors shut immediately, not at all taking notice of you until mid way moving up in the building.

Her face lit up and she shrieked in delight at seeing you. You strained a smile.

‘Yea, definitely looking for a handout.’

“Oh my god! I was about to fight security to come see you sissy!” she forced her arms around you. You bit your tongue. You hated hugs.

“Well…lovely seeing you too,” you muttered before awkwardly patting her back.

Her breath hitched at seeing the look on your face, “Sorry about not pre-warning, I did try calling you but your phone keeps going to voicemail.”

‘Oh good, she still hasn’t figured out I let them ring out.’

“And you didn’t reply to my emails.”

You fought a smirk, ‘because they go straight to junk mail’.

She smiled and babbled happily, “Anyway, I had to come here because I need to give you-“ she huffed and swiped a bead of sweat from her forehead before reaching into her nappy bag (that she treated like a handbag.) and retrieved a thick red envelope.

She handed it to you. Your manicured nails pinched the ugly stickers one of your nephews or nieces had chosen. Scribbled in absolute chicken scrap handwriting was your name, most likely also done by your nephew or nieces.

The elevator opened and you sighed, marching out to enter the offices with your solo office space down the hall with the largest window and finest view of the city below. You didn’t expect your sister to tail you. She waddled like a fast duck following you.

“I was thinking you should meet this guy that babysits-” She was talking to you about something but in all honesty, you weren’t listening until she mentioned the cursed words, “-Christmas Party.”

You deposited your handbag on your desk and spun on your heel. Your eyes wide, your smile straining into a sneer.

You snickered cruelly and laced your fingers together, “How many times have we discussed this? I. Don’t. Celebrate. Christmas. I don’t do presents, I don’t do carolling, I don’t do secret Santa’s and I sure as fucking hell don’t do Christmas Parties. I’m glad that you and Tim have fun with your kids and do all that meaningless stuff to shield them from the big bad world. I however am not in the mood for it. Work comes first. This is one of the busiest years of my life, the market is at an all time high in interests rates.”

She looked like she was growing smaller with every foul word that dripped like acid rain.

“It’s just one day, not even a full day. Just a few hours, not far from you,” she whispered and rubbed her belly comfortingly.

You shook your head and circled around your desk, “Might as well get this over with, you don’t need to ploy me with booze.”

You pulled out a cheque book from your drawer and slapped it down. You bent over and fished out a pen, pressing the ink to the slim piece of paper.

Your voice came out like a bark, “How much are you wanting this year?”

“Wh-what?” your sisters eyes grew wide.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, with a condescending tone, “How much money do you want to cover all the gifts? I hear Disneyland is great this time of year in Florida. I need a number. I have a busy day ahead of me so I’d just like to get this over and done with.”

Your sister didn’t answer. You glanced up. Her face was no longer smiling. She looked in pain. Her hand sat on top of her belly. She hissed and breathed out hard.

Her eyes were dimming down. She lost the joyful spark. She waddled to the guest chair in front of your desk and sat down.

She put the nappy bag on the floor.

‘great, thanks for the smell of cornflakes and breast milk on the carpet.’

Her breath turned husky and you started to reach for your desk phone ready to call a bloody ambulance to take her to the hospital. You couldn’t tell what the hell was wrong with her and prayed she wasn’t going into labour. You didn’t need to waste five thousand dollars on a carpet replacement because her waters might break.

Her eyes glared up at you as she tried to focus on pacing her breath. God, she looked like your mother with that look. It hurt. She got the best genes you had to admit. Even while pregnant she had this way about her that made men just want to beg for her number. You couldn’t tell if it was her ditsy personality or just good looks.

“Jim," Caroline corrected with strain, "-and I don’t need your money. We don’t want it. We have never have wanted it. This year, I just want you to put in the effort to spend Christmas with us as a family. You and I haven’t shared a Christmas since I was in middle school. My kids want their aunty to visit because I tell them you’re the coolest person alive...” her eyes narrowed, “Put the fucking cheque book away, and come to fucking Christmas dinner at least. It’s going to be at my house if you look at the invite that your nephew and nieces made special for you. They don’t want presents, they just want to see their aunty. Besides.... I told them you’d come if they put extra love into it.”

You chewed your inner cheek and stood up straight, crossing your arms and sat on the edge of your desk.

“You shouldn’t lie to your kids, Caroline,” you coolly said with icy impact.

You watched her eyes start to shine and water.

“Jesus,” you muttered, “Don’t fucking cry.”

She broke down immediately. You sighed with annoyance. ‘why did she have to come today of all days and act like this. It’s not a big deal. God.’

“You’re such a bitch and my kids have done nothing to you except love you unconditionally. The least you can do is show up,” Caroline struggled to stand out of the chair and when you reached out to help, she snapped like a firecracker and hissed, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

She groaned as she bent down, holding her belly and reached for her nappy bag, that she let you help her with. She suddenly looked so tired and deflated compared to when she had ducked into the elevator. You started to feel a tick of that itchy sympathy. Pregnancy always looked hard. Her first birth was so difficult, the second slipped right out but she didn’t have an epidural and the third time was an emergency c-section. In fact you weren’t even sure if she was meant to be having this fourth baby. It would be too risky. She could honestly kill herself. Now that was a bolt of fear that coursed through you.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” you sniffled, trying to distract your little sister from her anger.

She looked even more offended and scoffed, “You know, if you had even tried to come to my baby shower, you could’ve eaten one of the gender reveal cupcakes.”

‘Ouch.’

You looked down at your Valentino pumps. Seven years younger than you and she still managed to put you in your place with the snap of her fingers.

She rubbed her wet eyes with the tips of her fingers.

“I worry about you...” she mumbled, “You might have a lot of money Y/N, but money can’t buy you everything. Don’t you want to share memories?”

You tried hiding the laugh limbing your throat,, “Not this argument again...come on, I’ll walk you out and hire you a cab.”

You escorted her back to the elevator, all your employees watching and whispering about it. You knew your office needed thicker glass.

As you quietly pressed the button down, your sister finally said, “It’s twins. A boy and girl.”

You didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually you only nodded and whispered, “Congratulations. You and Tim must be excited.”

“Jim," she grounded, "-and I are flat out on our feet with the others but yea...I’m thinking about naming the girl after mom.”

Again you didn’t respond. You wanted this interaction to be finished. You wanted to go to work and drink away the days leading up to New Year’s. Maybe you should take a trip overseas. You might run into a handsome one night stand with an attractive accent.

Your sister turned and hugged you again, she rubbed her sweet face into your shoulder and sighed, “I’m sorry for snapping. Please don’t be mad. Please promise me you’ll come to the party, even for five minutes.”

Her pleading eyes finally cracked your ice wall.

“Fine. Five minutes.”

The squealing giggle of delight made you groan internationally instantly regretting your words. Nonetheless you took it upon yourself to at least hug her back. God help you, you didn’t know how you’d survive.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

10:00pm, 24th December 2023, New York City.

On your way home you discovered with aggravation all the cabs and ubers nearby had been booked up and the traffic in the city horrendous. Of course. On Christmas eve it would look like this. You decided to march your way to the subway. It would be the quickest way back home.

You had to cross the park to get there though.

And among your walking you passed a man laying down on a bench. He wore a baseball cap that hid his face. He wore a blanket over his shoulders. A puff of cold air escaped his pink lips.

His shadowed face peered up at you and held up a piece of cardboard that read the following: Homeless, please donate a food and blankets.

And something inside you cracked again. You fought the urge to pull out your purse and give him the only hundred dollar bill you had. You looked him up and down. And froze. Next to him was a bottle of liquor. Something malicious dripped from your lips. Words filled with cruelty and hate. It was bold and dangerous. But you bet he was drunk.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t there any shelters taking in scum? Are all the prisons full? Maybe if you got off your ass and got a real fucking job, you would be too busy making money instead of swilling down booze!”

He did not react in the way you expected. He smiled at an ankle, winked and held a finger up to his lips.

Your face curdled in disgust and hacked back your throat, spitting on him.

“Booze bum,” you muttered, and marched on, away from him.

Your chin jerked high. It was a method of teaching you had learnt in your youth. Shame someone until they commit to a goal and out perform it. To this day you are still doing that very thing, why not share that gift of knowledge with others?

You scowled the entire train ride home and flicked through your emails.

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11:10pm, 24th December 2023, New York City.

Alone in your penthouse apartment, you padded your way to bed scrolling through your phone. In your hand you cradled a wine glass and set it on the bedside table.

Beneath the soft cotton covers you sighed happily and used your phone to command the fireplace to be lit up. A fake flame on a flat screen tv with heaters all around you, filling your place with warmth. Laying back into your pillows you scrolled your phone and frowned at all the Christmas themed posts online, all the tutorials and recipes you’d never follow and all the Christmas stories you’d never read.

Tossing the phone beside your wine glass, your hands snuck down into a drawer and retrieved your absolute best friend in the world. She was thick, long and quiet, totally sky blue and had twenty different settings. You slid the vibrator under the covers and shimmied out of your underwear. Your fingers fumbled, touching your wet cunt.

The alcohol was finally hitting you, warming you up. You weakly reached for your vibrator. You knew it would be a comfort to take away the anger and stress away from your day at work.

You pressed the silicone to your clit and switched on the toy. A soft sigh came from you as you rubbed it along your lower lips. You fluttered your eyes shut and tried to imagine a person and you having sex.

‘A policeman? No. College professor? No. Loser doorman? No…’ and then your eyes flickered in a quick vision of the homeless man from the park… ‘Yes. He must be miserable, pissed off, angry, he smiled but that would have been a lie, his long finger he held to his mouth should stuff itself inside me.’

Your hand slid up and pulled down the front of your night down. You dug your nails into your breast before tugging your nipple hard. You whined as you bucked your hips into your toy that you playfully prodded and tore out of you. You imagined that same stranger ripping your dress from your body and dragging you into the snowy woods.

Rape fantasies weren’t uncommon for you. It was something about the power struggle that sent thrills up and down your spine. You liked the pain. You liked being forced to give up your control. You slid the plastic cock deep into your slick pussy and mewled.

The homeless man would hold a knife to your throat and bend you over a log, no, no, that bench, so out and open and public for anyone to catch him tearing you apart. His hand would lick your skin in stinging slaps. The alcohol on his breath would be putrid. He’d call you names, whore, slut, bitch, cunt, fuckpig. And you would be totally helpless…

You lazily rolled over onto your belly and forced your ass up, your bed sheets falling down your thighs.

You pushed the dildo back in deep and turned on the highest setting, biting the pillow under you. You fucked yourself hard until it hurt.

The homeless man fantasy went on and on, forcing you to cum and cry. You didn’t care if neighbours or tenants below you heard. You imagined this terrible man after fucking you raw making you sit in his filthy lap, fucking you with the empty liquor bottle neck and letting strangers walking past the chance to spit on you and slap you until you cummed.

The fantasy didn’t have a fanciful ending fleshed out. You could only imagine him dragging you back to some ghetto homeless tent village under one of the city bridges and whoring your cunt out to his homeless buddies. You wanted to submit, to be used like that…

But not in the real world. Fuck no. Your reputation mattered greatly. You were too stubborn to willingly date a man and ask him to do something taboo like consensual non-consent play.

You tore the blue cock out and pressed it to your clit, riding out an ultimate orgasm that left your body feeling like jelly. Slumping forward you groaned into the pillows, you knew you had to eventually get up and pee. The alcohol still in your system made the journey feel almost impossible. But when your bare ass hit the seat, you leant back and sighed. 'UTI prevented!'

Getting back to bed wasn’t as hard as getting to the bathroom. You breathed in the smell of your own sexual prowess. No shame. You put away your toy and before you could search for your discarded underwear, you heard your phone pinged. You grunted with annoyance.

You glanced at the screen; it was a text from Caroline.

*Told the kids you are coming tomorrow! They’re so excited to see their aunty! Xoxo*

‘oh right…her Christmas party…it’s tomorrow…' you still hadn’t even looked at the invitation. Anger started burning its way into your chest when you saw the emojis and gifs she attached. Santa and reindeers and snowmen. God you fucking hated Christmas!! She didn’t need to remind you. You didn’t plan to be there longer than the strick three hundred seconds. The miserable evil stabbed your heart again.

It out you so over the edge you began to type, *Tell them I changed my mind, I’m busy.*

Before your thumb could slam on the message send, something strange occurred. The penthouse apartment lights started to flicker on and off repeatedly.

‘A circuit must’ve snapped. I know I turned off all the lights.’

You slammed your phone down and ripped off your bed sheets. Marching over to the telecom beside you door you prepared the mental speech of anger and abuse you’d deliver on whatever poor soul was handling the front desk of the apartment complex tonight.

You pressed the button hard and when no welcoming comment came you decided to wait.

You waited and waited and still no one acknowledged you over the telecom. There was a noise coming from it though. It was a sound of ragged breathing. Squinting with absolute judgement you hissed into the microphone.

You sobered up your voice and rubbed your eyes. Your wine was knocking around your insides at that point, it had polluted your blood. You just needed to stay awake for a little longer.

“This is penthouse three. Your lights are dimming and flickering out. I want someone to change all that bulbs and check the power wires immediately. Do I make myself clear?”

The unusual panting was still there and getting louder. You shook your head. Someone should’ve been repeating back your request and discussing a mode of action.

“Hello?” you angrily huffed into the microphone when no answer came for a long time.

You hissed, “Now you listen here. I don’t give a fuck it’s Christmas eve. You’re job is on the line if you cant fix my fucking lights.”

And then the line went totally dead and your apartment was entirely darkened. You groaned with anguish. Using your phone flash light you returned to your room.

“Fine,” you grumbled as you pulled the covers Of your bed back again, “Probably too drunk on eggnog to give a damn. Say goodbye to those two dollar tips dickhead.”

You laid back and fished out your bonnet, carefully lipping your hair inside the protective layer. You rolled onto your side under the covers and shut your eyes.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

12:00am, 25th December 2023, New York City.

For some reason at 12am you received a very obnoxiously loud phone call. Blindly you reached for it and accepted the call. You had a suspicion it was a prank call from overseas.

“Y/N,” said the caller. Your eyes cleared up fast at the sound of a voice you knew too well.

You almost dropped your phone. Surely it wasn’t her calling. You had seen her body at her funeral. She chuckled on the other side, her voice was just as rusted as you remembered. In the dream she had come over to your house and had a sleep over together.

Your eyes widened, “Wh-who is this?” you asked, “Do you fucking know what time it is?”

The identical voice of your passed companion echoed back, “In life you knew me as Marlene Jeong.”

You hung up the phone fast and sat up straight. Her hands trembled and the phone screamingly made another phone call from the same unknown number.

You answered it and heard her shriek, “Don’t you know hanging up like that is rude.”

You took a deep breath in. And shut your eyes. No. It couldn’t be.

“This prank isnt funny,” you barked into the receiver.

“Well I’d hope not. You know I wasn’t a fan of funny,” she grumbled back.

You picked up the phone and huffed, “If you’re really Marlene...tell me something only I would know...”

The phone went quiet and clicked off. You smirked, 'Yea, that's what I thought you sick fuck.'

The air around you grew colder. With the power out you accepted that the central heating was out too. Getting out of bed you stumbled down the hall to the linen cupboard and pulled out a few more thicker blankets. When you returned back to your room you screamed and jumped ten feet in the air, dropping the load of blankets.

Marlene was sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. She was not herself and yet was at the same time. She looked the same except for the fact her entire body was a light blue and translucent. She was naked. And you could see her translucent organs. In her hand was a false spiritual cigarette. Smoking rising from the tip and faded into the darkness. And don’t let me forget a important detail. She was floating and parts of her body wrapped in chains.

Hearing you, she turned her face away from your phone and winked. You slammed back into a wall, trying to get away from her as she floated closer to you. She took a mean drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke into your fear filled face. You could’ve fainted. The smoke didn’t smell like anything and was rather a cold breeze to your cheek.

You flinched and whimpered, “Marlene...what the fuck.”

She smirked and rolled mid air upside down,

“Long time no see. Or well...you can’t see me but I see you basically every day,” she cackled.

Your lips fell apart, “Wha-how- why...why are you hear? Should you be dead?”

She flicked the cigarette of ash that turned into blue light specs and disappeared before touching the floor.

“Oh trust dear, I’m dead, dead as a doornail. Little Kyong gave me a killer orgasm, literally,” she took another long drag, “I had no clue what was coming and poof! I’m on the floor choking and groaning and next thing I wake up to, is you moving your shit into my office and my penthouse. But I digress sweet snake...I’m not here on a social call...I’m here to send you a warning.”

Your head felt dizzy, “A warning? The fuck? Am I going to die soon or something?” you wrapped your arms around yourself.

She smiled and shook her head, “Oh no...no, no....something a tad more painful. See, I have been sent to play 'angel Gabriel' so to speak and inform you of a supernatural message.”

She floated around, chains at her wrist dragged behind her as she did. Marlene sharpened her gaze at you.

‘Woah did I take one too many Percocet with my wine...I must be high.’

“You are saveable unlike my dead cold self,” she said flying back to your bed and lewdly laying down, “My dead frozen heart could not thaw,” she sighed and tapped her chest.

You could see inside her at the organ most resembling heart was literally made of icy and was not beating. It was disturbing.

“I’m destined to float while tethered to the world unseen, unheard, unloved…forgotten. But you? You still have a chance to atone. A spirit shall arrive and come to you in three shades…Christmas past, present and future. It shall greet you hourly between one and three o’clock.”

You timidly stepped closer.

“You need to open your mind and open your heart or else-“ she floated above you and groaned, “This will be your future fate.”

You rubbed your eyes and slapped your cheek. Marlene’s ghost was still there. She held up her wrist, showing off the manacle around it, “This is a fate no one wishes, trust me on that.”

Her face leant in closer to your face. Her hair floated around her like water tendrils.

She rattled the chains together, clinking them and explained, “The spirit will test you. And they will test you fairly. They will decide what to do with you after. They call themselves, Christmas past, present and future.”

When she had said these words, Marlenes ghost faded away, disappearing into the cold, quiet night. It took you a few minutes to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe or make sense of it and no matter how many times you pinched of slapped yourself, you found yourself still in the unexplainable dream. You tossed the blankets from the floor onto the bed. You had another drink of wine before you chose to return to bed. You tugged the warmest and softest blanket up to your chin. You were scared and confused. Your eyes grew heavier as you forced yourself to forget and ignore the apparition of Marlene chained nude and talking in riddles.

You laid your cheek into the pillow and fell into a deep slumber.

HELPINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline services

India Helpline Services

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