#i’m sorry if this one is choppy I HAD STUFF GOING ON

[mappingthesky]

short sequel to the angst prompt please! the moment jane finally says “i love you”

after ' i know baby, no attachment', i think our girls deserve a lil sweetness, yes? here's this <3

fuck it, i love you

“Thank you,” Nymphia says when Jane starts the car. “For doing that with me.”

Jane looks over to the passenger seat. They’re just leaving Nymphia’s friend’s apartment, and the sun is just setting, and there are so many things Jane loves about Nymphia.

She loves how the golden hour is hitting her face, turning the brown of her eyes blood orange and beautiful. She loves what she finds there - that knowing glimmer in Nymphia’s gaze, the one that says so much more than words can, a secret language just for them to know. She loves how patient Nymphia is with her, even when Jane doesn’t deserve it. She loves that Nymphia has been willing to give her a chance, that she trusts Jane enough to let her hold her heart. She loves that Nymphia makes scary things feel less so, like meeting your girlfriend’s friends when you’re the last person who should ever be brought home to meet anyone. Jane loves that Nymphia wanted to bring her anyways. That she made it so easy. 

“They like you.” Nymphia’s smile reaches her eyes. Another thing Jane loves. “I can tell.”

“Yeah?” Jane asks. She loves that Nymphia is so obviously adored, that her friends spent the last two hours interrogating Jane thoroughly, loves them for caring so much. “I like them too.” Jane smiles, takes Nymphia’s hand as she drives.

“I’m glad you came with me,” Nymphia chews on her cheek. She’s speaking softly, tenderly, and Jane knows she means it. “I, um. I know it was a big step. For you. So thank you.”

 “You don’t need to thank me.” Jane brings Nymphia’s hand to her mouth, kisses her knuckles. “I’m glad I did too.”

Summer in the city is killer. The sun has just set and the streets have not yet cooled, and the breeze from the passenger’s side is just barely a relief. Jane would turn the air on, but Nymphia is leaning out the open window, and it's such a beautiful moment that she doesn’t have the heart to end it. She’s too busy, anyways, noticing more things she loves. She loves Nymphia’s laugh; loud and twinkling and just for Jane, like everything she says is actually that funny. How she throws her head back and her eyes squeeze shut, full lips pulled over bright, beaming teeth, how she laughs and somehow Jane is laughing too. She loves how touchy Nymphia is, how she’s always finding her way back to Jane even when they’re inches apart - locking their pinkies together, tracing her jawline, still holding her hand while she floats the other through the open window. The wind flutters through Nymphia’s hair, and Jane can smell her perfume. She loves that too.

They pull up to a red light and the slowing of the car reduces the breeze to nothingness. Nymphia whines, mumbles something about the heat. Jane loves that she doesn’t want any of it to end - not this car ride, not this perfect night, not her and Nymphia. She looks at her and knows she needs this to last longer, much longer.

“Want ice cream?”

Nymphia turns, beams. Jane loves this too - making Nymphia happy. She likes to think she could be good at it. She wants to be. 

Nymphia is giggling around a spoonful of strawberry ice cream. They’re sharing a banana split on a bench beside the ice cream shop, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from one another, bathed in the glow of the streetlamp overhead. Jane loves Nymphia’s insatiable sweet tooth, which sends them in search of bubble tea or strawberry shortcake or malted milkshakes at odd hours of the night. Jane loves that these escapades are becoming something like a routine for them, that Nymphia has a way of turning everything into an adventure. Jane loves how Nymphia fills up her days. These hours didn’t feel empty before, but Jane never wants them back to herself ever again. It’s much better this way.

Jane watches Nymphia dip back into the sundae, spoonfuls of strawberry sauce and whipped cream and peanuts. The same side, over and over.

“You’re not eating the pineapple.”

Nymphia answers plainly, like it's obvious. “Yeah. Cuz’ you like the pineapple the best.”

It’s nothing really. It's just an observation, but there’s something about it that leaves Jane a little awe-struck, because Nymphia is absolutely right about pineapple being Jane’s favorite, and Jane has never mentioned it once. Nymphia just knows, because Nymphia pays attention, even to the things Jane doesn’t say. Jane loves that this is what it comes to; she loves that someone cares this much about her, and she loves that that someone is Nymphia. More than anything, Jane loves the thing that shines through every one of Nymphia’s actions, a bright and undoubtable glow - that she loves Jane, loves her like it's easy for her to do.

“What?” Nymphia tilts her head, eyes glittering, sucking on the plastic spoon. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Jane smiles. It comes out easily, because it’s meant to. “I just love you.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Nymphia’s eyes go wide. Everything is quiet for a second. Nymphia’s spoon floats, forgotten. 

“Jane” she says. It’s almost a whimper, Nymphia’s voice strained with feeling. Her eyes are starry with what could be tears but aren’t yet, and Jane is suddenly a bit nervous.

“I mean it,” Jane goes a bit concerned in the eyes, searching Nymphia for any indicator of where she might’ve misstepped. “You know that, don't you?”

“I know,” Nymphia sputters, laughing and sending a meteor shower of happy tears streaking down her cheeks. She smiles and it’s like the sun is setting all over again, beaming bright and golden and warm at the edge of a perfect night. “I know you mean it. That’s why I’m so..” she waves her hands, gesturing at some emotional grandeur she can’t name. It’s not just her; there aren’t words for feelings this big. 

She finally lands on, “Happy.” It’s nowhere near close to the enormity of the feeling, but it’ll do. “I’m so happy,” Nymphia repeats, this gleaming smile on her face like she’s lit from within. It sort of makes Jane want to cry too. 

“Me too,” Jane says, and it's still nowhere near enough, and it doesn't matter because they both know. “I’ve never been this happy.”

And then Nymphia is cupping Jane’s face in the glow of the streetlight and kissing her, every word on the tip of her tongue more tangible in this kiss than they ever could be out loud. Jane just barely pulls away, just enough to make room for words:

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Shut up,” Nymphia says, already pulling her back for more. Later, more breathlessly, “you’re worth every wait.”

[thegainingdesk]

On Again, Off Again

As soon as I saw Mark I was head over heels. He was tall and naturally broad, a frame improved with well-honed muscles from years of manual labour. A mop of thick dark hair framed a broad, almost blocky face with dark brown eyes and a thick moustache, and mirrored tufts of hair poking out from the top of his shirt and at his cuffs. His voice was deep, but soft, with a slight Bristol accent.

He’d suggested we go to a local museum for our first date - I’d mentioned that I did art history at uni when we were talking on tinder, and there was an exhibition on the early impressionists. I spent a while pointing out some of my favourite paintings, explaining some of the techniques, the use of light, how the movement was different to what had come before but quickly noticed how quiet he was being and my initial attraction started to wane.

“Sorry,” he said after I asked him for the umpteenth time if everything was okay. “I don’t mean to- it’s just, I mean…”

I looked at him, expectantly. Despite myself, despite how flat the date was falling, I found myself crushing on him all over again, looking up into those big puppy dog eyes.

“I wanted to impress you a bit,” he said finally, running his hand across his moustache nervously.

I laughed reflexively, and felt awful as I saw him wince. “What do you mean, impress me? You don’t need to impress me.”

“I know, it’s not… You just said that you were into art and stuff, and that you work with this charity and-” He stopped and sighed. “I’m just this knob-head builder, you know? I didn’t think someone like you would really want to go out with someone like me, and I thought you were cute and the lads at the site said I should do something a bit fancy and… I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I?”

I shook my head. “You’re great. Really. I chose to go out with you, didn’t I?” He shrugged those gorgeous hulking shoulders, somehow looking like a scolded schoolboy, despite his size. “Go on, where would you usually take me on a first date, if you weren’t trying to go all fancy on me?”

“No, no, really,” he insisted, unconvincingly. “I’m enjoying myself here.” He pointed at the nearest painting, a Turner painting of a choppy sea, a bright red buoy at the centre. “Go on, tell me about that one.”

I took his hand, and felt my heart flutter as a smile spread across his face. “Seriously, I agreed to go on a date with you because you were a good laugh while we were texting.” A blush spread across his stubbled cheeks. Fuck, he was hot. “Where we going?” I pulled him towards the exit.

“A pub or something, I dunno,” he mumbled. “We can stay, really.”

“Not a chance,” I retorted. “It's your round - you can’t wriggle out of it that easy.”

A couple of drinks in, the date was thoroughly back on track. Mark was funny, charming and charismatic - I’d go so far as to say he was gregarious, but trying to keep up with the way Mark drank turned that into a few too many syllables for me at the time. A few more drinks and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other - looking back, I cringe at the scene we must have made in that pub. Charitably, you could say we were somewhat hidden away in a corner; realistically, it was a Saturday evening in the city center and people were probably gawping.

“I told myself I wouldn’t fuck you tonight,” he grumbled into my ear, while his big square hand pawed at my achingly hard dick. “That I’d wait a couple of dates.”

I was practically gnawing at him at this point, my mouth deep into the soft crevice between his thick, strong neck and his strong, yard-wide shoulders. “This is basically our second date,” I told his neck. “The museum was number one, the pub is number two.”

I heard him laugh into my hair. “I’m serious, I’m trying to break some bad habits. Trying not to have so much casual sex.”

I moaned. “I’ll give you permission to make an exception.”

“I don’t want this to just be sex,” he whispered. “I really like you.”

“It doesn’t have to just be sex,” I whimpered back. “But it could also be sex.”

I heard him - felt him - practically growl. “I suppose if you came back to mine, we wouldn’t necessarily have to have sex.”

I nodded, and lifted my head to look him in the eyes. “Absolutely, no sex.”

The sex was phenomenal. It was like something out of an 80s romance novel. It was animalistic but sensual, passionate but slow. I think I actually swooned. Mark could throw me about like a ragdoll, and he made good use of that ability. His body was covered almost top to toe in dark, wiry hair, and his cock was so thick I could barely get my mouth around it - but by god I gave it a go.

We spent all of the next day together, nursing twin hangovers and cuddling up on his sofa. Mark explained his philosophy that the only worthwhile hangover cure is as much food as you can manage to keep down. While I nibbled on bread and butter and sipped on water all day, there was barely a moment where he didn’t have some food on the go - bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast, clearing his fridge for lunch, a string on deliveroo drivers.

By the time I felt well-enough to go home, he tried to convince me to call in sick to work the next day. Tangled up with him like that, I almost did. Even so, I managed to drag myself away, with the promise of seeing him on Friday.

We didn’t make it to Friday. We met up for dinner on Tuesday. Lunch on Wendesday. On Thursday I packed a bag and decided I could just go into the office from his flat in the morning. We were inseparable. Insufferable, most likely. But we couldn’t stop ourselves, didn’t want to stop.

The dinners out, the takeaways, the long days spent cuddled up without a thought of the gym started to add up - on Mark at least. And yes, maybe I encouraged that a little, but I’m allowed a type aren’t I? Okay, maybe more than a type - a predilection, if you were being fancy, a full-blown fetish if you were being honest. So I like them big! Is that a crime? I never went overboard - never stirred butter and double cream into all of his portions, never tricked him into gainer shakes, never slipped him appetite enhancers or miraculous weight-gain pills - I’m not the protagonist of a gainer story, after all.

All I did was nurture that healthy appetite of his. Gave him my unfinished portions, asked him if he wanted seconds, encouraged him to get dessert, muttered into his ear that no, he can’t go to the gym and leave me in bed, cold and alone, that I’d give him all the work-out he needed. He never complained, and I never made any real secret that I didn’t mind him putting on some weight.

It was subtle at first. He’d never had any abs to cover up, but there was a general loss of definition - muscular limbs got smoothed out, pecs started to go puffy, his belly started to permanently bow out into a little arc. His body, already big, sailed past 220 pounds easily enough, and you could barely tell that he’d put on any weight at all, not really, until he’d hit 240 or so.

But then, my god. It’s like some magical fat threshold was reached, almost overnight, like all the gaps in his body had been filled with fat, his whole body lightly covered with a thin sheen of chub, ready for the real work to build up over it. Smooth limbs got soft, puffy pecs drooped, his little distended belly curved out in all directions to form a proper little pot belly. Not six months into our relationship, he was sitting fat and happy at 260 pounds, a firm ball gut at his center, and all traces of that muscular hunk that tried to impress me at a museum were buried under soft, gorgeous flab. If he ever got self-conscious, he never said anything. Still, I told him how gorgeous he was, how sexy the extra weight made him, how he looked more manly, more mature.

We settled into a routine; huge dinners, hot sex, movie nights spent cradling his growing gut, an occasional date night at some new restaurant before moving onto a pub or a bar. We spent so much time at each other’s flats we both assumed we’d move in together sooner rather than later, that this would all last forever.

“Australia?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“I know, I know,” he said, pacing and stroking his moustache nervously. “But the money’s so good, I can’t really pass it up.” I closed my eyes. Gripped the table. Tried to wish it away. “It wouldn’t be forever,” he said, lamely.

“It would be for a year though,” I whispered, opening my eyes.

He slumped down into the chair opposite me. One hand continued to stroke his moustache, the other sat on the shelf of his belly, stroking it ever so slightly. Even while I was distraught he could still drive me wild without even trying. “I’m sorry,” he said simply after a while. I knew there wasn’t any point arguing. That I wouldn’t want to stop him taking the opportunity. It just hurt.

We agreed we’d not wait for each other. We’d stay in touch, but we’d be free to date, and if either of us met someone over the year, or if we’d changed as people, no obligation to go back to how we were.

I spent a full week moping. I became a walking cliche - I barely ate, I barely slept. I sustained myself on a diet of Carole King songs and Richard Curtis films. Mark never had any social media - barely used his phone for anything really - a fact which I was, in turns, thankful for and furious about. On one hand, at least I couldn’t obsessively stalk his profiles all year while I missed him, on the other hand, I couldn’t even stalk his profiles all year while I missed him.

I still can’t decide if that year went fast or slow. There were points when it felt like I was going through the same old bored routines for decades, and days when I’d realise how soon I could see Mark again and it would feel like seconds. I did my best to get on with my life - I met with friends, picked up hobbies I’d let fall to the side while I spent every day with Mark, even plucked up the courage to go on a date. It was nice. He was nice. But it wasn’t Mark. I’m not even sure I could tell you his name. After that, I resigned myself to waiting.

I’m back! The text said. My heart fluttered. Want to meet up for a drink?

I tried to not reply immediately. Wanted to come across as cool and unbothered.

Amazing!!! I replied, not two minutes later. Yes! Where?

As a cucumber.

The Goose? Or maybe your flat? Up to you.

My heart pounded. Meeting at my flat was not the act of an uninterested man. Meeting at my flat was not the act of a man who’d fallen in love with some gorgeous Australian surfer.

My flat’s fine! I responded.

Great. I’ll be like an hour?

My flat was already impeccably clean - I was a bit of a clean freak as it was, but I had it practically sparkling in anticipation of Mark’s return to the northern hemisphere - but still, I busied myself cleaning every nook and cranny. I hoovered my spotless carpet, smoothed my immaculately smooth bed, dusted corners that I previously didn’t know existed.

I had just decided that the flat was too unnaturally clean, like I’d gone out of my way to clean it for Mark or something, and was in the middle of pulling various items just slightly out of position, when my doorbell rang. I yelped, and hurriedly crumpled a throw blanket, before breathing slowly and making my way to the door. It was just Mark, I told myself. Everything would be just the same as it was before. It’s just Mark. It’s just Mark.

I opened the door to a man I barely recognised. Mark was buff. Beyond buff. The fat I’d so deviously piled on him over all those months had disappeared without a trace. He’d not simply returned to the naturally broad, built figure he’d had when I’d first met him, either - he’d added hard, shredded muscle - at a guess I’d say 20 pounds easy. His face was thinner, sharper; his arms were vascular, and I could swear I saw the stitches on his sleeves almost pulling themselves apart; when he raised his arms and his t-shirt rode up, I could make out a defined six-pack even through his dense pelt of body hair. Worst of all though - he’d shaved off his moustache.

I just stood blinking for a while, until I realised that tears were welling up in my eyes. Despite it all, despite the time, despite the body, despite the fucking moustache - it was Mark. It was really, actually, fucking Mark.

Neither of us said anything, he just stepped through my door, held my face in his hands and kissed me, deeply and desperately and hungrily. We stumbled backwards through my flat, knocking perfectly placed objects as we went, pulling at each other’s clothes, never once stopping kissing, until he picked me up and tossed me onto my bed. This time, I definitely swooned.

We didn’t properly talk until the next morning, while I lay with my head on his chest, my fingers lazily pulling through the curls of his chest hair. “Go on then,” I said. “What’s all this?”

Mark yawned. “What’s what?” he asked.

I lightly slapped his six-pack. “Who invited He-Man over here?”

He laughed. “I bet you had a thing for He-Man didn’t you?” he said, running a hand down my back and squeezing my bum, avoiding the question.

“No really,” I insisted. “What happened to my sexy teddy bear I sent off?” I steeled myself. “I bet it was for all those sexy ozzy men, eh?” I forced myself to laugh.

Mark was silent, and didn’t move.

I held my breath. “It’s fine, you know. We said. Date whoever.”

He shook his head. “No,” he said simply, after a while. “I umm… couldn’t bring myself to. That’s why I spent so much time in the gym actually. To take my mind off of…” He trailed off. “Did you? You know…”

“One guy,” I said. “Just a date, you know, nothing…" I added quickly, keen to reassure him. "It was awful.” I sighed. “No, it was probably fine, it just wasn’t…” I looked over at him, took in his chiseled jawline and perfect cheekbones. “It wasn’t you.” We stayed like that for a while, just smiling at each other. I shuffled up his body to kiss him, and rolled over. “I might have to change my stance on that if you don’t grow your moustache back though.”

We were back to our old routine almost immediately, illicit feedings and all. By the time Mark had regrown his moustache, his abs had been hidden by soft fat and he was on his way back to the Mark I knew and loved. It’s like his body missed the fat - it piled on faster than it had the first time, and within a few months he’d put on all his lost weight, plus extra. His newfound muscles clearly faded a little, being neglected so thoroughly by time spent away from the gym, but they provided a firm base for all the fat to cling to, so that all his fat was perkier and bouncier than last time - I was in heaven.

“I need to lose some weight,” Mark murmured around one of his breakfast donuts one morning. I looked over to see him trying to tug a pair of scruffy work jeans closed, but there were several inches of soft fat between the button and its hole. I inhaled and set my shoulders - it was time to bite the bullet.

“I don’t think you need to lose weight,” I started, nonchalantly.

Mark laughed and shook his gut. I fought to stop myself from getting hard. “Look at me - I’m 20 stone and can’t fit into 40 inch trousers. 40 inches! I need to lose weight,” he repeated.

I stood up and walked over to him, putting a hand on each side of his middle. “I like it,” I told him matter of factly, before kissing him.

He smiled and returned my kiss. “You’re sweet, and I know that you’ll love me no matter what size I am, yada-yada-yada, but come on,” he slapped his belly again. “This is getting ridiculous.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I like it. I…” I inhaled deeply. “I prefer it. Actively prefer you fat, actually.”

He stared at me and blinked, not speaking for almost a whole minute. “You… like me fat?” he asked, finally.

I nodded. "Mm-hmm," I said, as casually as I could pretend to be.

He squinted his eyes at me. “Fatter?” he continued.

“I… wouldn’t complain,” I said slowly, studying his face.

He took a few steps away from me and looked down at himself, as if seeing his body for the first time. He hefted his gut a couple of times, almost experimentally. His hands drifted upwards, squeezed his soft pecs. I just watched, knowing he needed some space. Finally, he raised his head to look at me. “Why?” he asked simply.

I shrugged. “Why is anyone attracted to anything, you know? Big guys have always just done it for me, I guess,” I explained. He carried on looking at me inquisitively, clearly expecting me to continue. “I mean… it just seems more manly, you know? Like you’re tall and you’re hairy and you’ve got this great moustache and hot face, and being bigger is just one more thing that just makes you even more masculine, you know?” He nodded and I saw him subtly flex, as if in admiration of himself. “So you’re okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “I mean, if it means I don’t have to diet or go to the gym, why not?” he laughed, and carried on getting ready for work. “You might need to pop out today to buy me some new clothes though,” he added.

I nodded and smiled, happy that inevitable, awkward conversation went as well as could I could realistically hope. I started to get set up for my day working from home, and brought Mark a donut as he was about to leave, kissing him on the cheek as I passed it over.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked carefully at the donut. “Did you do this Ben?” he asked, after a moment or two.

“What?” I asked. “Yes Mark, I brought you the donut. Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “No. Not the donut. Me. Did you make me fat?”

I swallowed. Hard. “What? Mark. How could I make you fat? I can’t eat for you,” I pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But I put on weight almost as soon as I met you. You’ve always given me half of your dinner, told me to get dessert, stopped me going to the gym.”

“Mark, you can’t seriously be accusing me of manipulating you into gaining weight,” I told him, feeling myself shake a little. "You have a big appetite." Was I trying to convince him, or myself?

“But did you?” he pressed.

I paused just a little too long and he sighed, burying his face in his hands. “It’s not like I forced you to eat anything!” I protested. “You enjoyed the food, you wanted it, you never cared about putting on weight, never enjoyed the gym. I just tried to give you permission to let yourself go a bit.”

“But you didn’t Ben!” he snapped. “You didn’t give me permission because never had a choice!”

“Mark, come on,” I reached towards him, but he knocked my hands away. “I’m sorry for being sneaky, but that’s all it was - a bit sneaky. I never lied, I never convinced you to do anything you didn’t want to, I just made the choice a bit easier.”

He opened the door. “I’m going to stay at my parents for a bit,” he said.

“Mark, no,” I pleaded.

“I just… I just need some time to think.” He moved through the door.

“Please Mark, I love you.”

He sighed. “I love you too,” he said. “It’s just a lot.”

The door closed. The day was a write-off. I spent the whole day cleaning and tidying, scrubbing floors and counters and remaking my bed. I thankfully didn’t have any meetings, and the only work I needed to do was busy-body work that no-one would notice was getting done badly. I fell back into old routines - didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, Carole King, Richard Curtis.

Staying at his parents “for a bit” meant a couple of weeks, as it turned out. I was mid-Notting Hill when I heard the door open and I turned to see Mark walk in, an old band t-shirt riding up to reveal the bottom of his gut. I rushed over to him, but stopped before I reached him, unsure of what was about to happen. He closed the distance and pulled me into a hug. I melted into him, and we stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding each other.

“I’m sorry,” I said eventually.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I overreacted. I… freaked out.” He scratched his gut. “You were right. It could have happened in any relationship, I just…” He closed his eyes. “I’ve been fit for a really long time, you know, and I’ve never done a proper relationship, and I always felt like people just use me for sex and all of a sudden I find out that you’re a big part of why I’ve put on so much weight and it just felt like… Like you were changing me.”

I shook my head and hugged him again. “I’m so sorry,” I said into his shoulder. “I didn’t want you to change. You’re exactly what I want, any weight, I promise.”

He hugged me back. “I want to change for you,” he murmured into my hair. He pulled away and held my shoulders, smiling. “I spent a lot of time trying to figure stuff out and… you're right. It’s hot.” He slapped his gut. “I get it, I think. I like being big and I like eating and I like that you like it.” I must have looked skeptical because he carried on. “Okay, I’m not, like, thrilled with putting on quite so much, but I also don’t care enough to lose you over it, and I can see where you’re coming from.” I didn’t know what to say, so just kissed him, running my hands under his t-shirt and up his love handles. He pulled away. “I want you to get fat as well though,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“I think you should put on weight as well,” he said again. “To see what it’s like.”

“Mark, I… I thought you’d forgiven me. I said I was sorry.,” I said.

“I’m not saying it as some kind of punishment or whatever,” he said, and patted my own flat stomach. “I’m saying that I think you’ll like it. That I’ll like it.”

“I think you might be confused,” I told him. “I don’t want to gain weight,” I explained. “I just like fat guys. It’s a different thing.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I didn’t want to gain weight either, and it turns out I kind of like it.” He squeezed his gut for emphasis. “You already like all this stuff, and I just think you owe it to yourself to see whether you like all the aspects of it.”

“Really?” I asked. “You want this?”

Mark shrugged. “Why not? Maybe it’ll be hot, and if you don’t like the first twenty pounds, you can lose it all faster than I’ll be able to lose all this.” He slapped his gut and sent it shaking.

“I uh… okay,” I agreed. “Yeah, I’ll try it out.”

The changes to our classic routine were unsettling at first. No more subtly suggesting dessert or quietly giving extra portions, now Mark would quite happily take seconds and snack throughout the day. He also made sure he wasn’t alone though - everything he ate, he would make me match, to the point that most days I’d end the day cradling my too full stomach while he gently rubbed it for me. Being more open about my preferences meant that we could start introducing food into the bedroom as well - sex now meant ice cream and chocolate and whole-cakes, all eaten off each other’s bodies or while Mark was deep inside of me.

While Mark’s gains kept up a good pace, especially for a man his size, the weight hit my body like a freight train. Without the base of muscle that Mark had, my gains were much softer, and spread across my body as opposed to Mark’s firm core ball gut and fat covered muscles. I found myself loving it - I'd get distracted by the way my flesh would slide past itself, the gentle restriction of clothes just on the verge of being too tight, and the pillowy softness of my body. I would find myself in work-meetings slipping a finger between shirt buttons to stroke around my navel, and it became one of Mark’s favourite jokes to point out when I’d mindlessly pull my shirt up while at home so I could play with my underbelly.

"You not going to lose too much weight while I'm gone, big guy?" Mark asked, kissing me on the cheek as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder.

I swallowed the last of the custard slice I was eating. "You're only going for a week," I pointed out. "Besides, you've managed to put nearly a hundred pounds on me in less than a year, I don't think I'm likely to stop losing weight anytime soon."

"Oh, I see," Mark said laughing. "It's me who put all that weight on you is it? You didn't have anything to do with it?"

"I should be more worried about you!" I said, changing the subject. "Going with all those skinny twigs - they're hardly going to make sure you're eating right."

He gripped his gut with both hands and lifted it. "It's a stag do," he said simply. "My diet's going to consist of beer and kebabs. I don't think you have to worry."

I kissed him goodbye, our guts melding into one another, and he left to get his taxi. I made my mind up to give him something special to come back to - as much weight as I could conceivably gain in the week he was away. I was sure I could put on five pounds (we both did that easily in the week between last Christmas and New Years), but how much more could I do?

Me and Mark were both used to four enormous meals as standard by now, so I added multiple tubs of ice cream and gainer shakes each day on top, to really kickstart my growth. I spent the next week bloated, groggy and uncomfortable - it was one of the hottest things I've ever done.

By the time Mark was back, I'd managed to push eleven more pounds onto my body, bringing me up to a cool 267 pounds. He walked into me lying prone on the sofa, shirt off, fresh stretch marks covering my gut, melted ice cream dripping onto soft moobs. I struggled to sit up to greet him, burping through a smile.

"Uhh, hi," he said, not moving from the doorway. His gaze hovered somewhere over my head.

"How was Berlin?" I asked, finally managing to sit up with a soft "ooft".

"Yeah it was…" he trailed off. "You know, fun. Good to see the lads." Still by the doorway. Still no eye contact.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, the ice cream sitting less comfortably in my stomach by the second.

"Yeah, no, it was just…" He finally moved away from the doorway, pacing around the room, eyes looking at everything except my expanded form. "They kept on taking the piss out of me," he said eventually. "You know, for being so fat."

"Right…" I said slowly. "But you're… you're okay with that, right?" I stood up with some effort and moved towards him. He moved towards the kitchen, still not meeting my eyes. "You've said you find it hot?" I felt self-conscious now, and looked around for a t-shirt I could put on.

He sighed, and finally looked at me. "Maybe not everything has to be hot," he said simply. "Like, yeah, it's great for sex but… Christ Ben, I'm over 24 stone now! Look at me!" He gestured down to his body, swollen with fat in every direction. "Every fucking day was just me trailing behind everyone else, completely out of breath, putting up with fucking jokes every other minute about my double chin and moobs and rolls-"

"Okay, your mates are arseholes!" I said. "Does that matter? Your workmates make jokes like that all the time."

"It's not my mates!" His voice was growing louder. "They're right! We've- I've-" He sighed and rubbed his face, his double chin moulding under his fingers. "We've taken it too far." He looked at me in the eyes. "This," he gestured down at himself and looked guiltily at me, "isn't just 'being a big guy' anymore. It's really, properly fat."

We tried to avoid talking about it for a few days. Then talked about dieting, going to the gym, building muscle, what weight might be a good compromise. Every conversation turned into an argument. Every meal, every shopping list.

I'd gotten so used to over-eating that I'd sneak off in the middle of the night or when he was at work to gorge. The couple of times he caught me turning into raging arguments. The times I caught him doing the same weren't much better.

Three weeks later, he'd packed his bags and gone to his parents. Whereas in the past I'd have stopped eating, I'd now fundamentally rewired my brain. Comfort eating was now de rigueur and every day seemed to overshadow the last. My snacks would have left a grown man satisfied, my meals turned into feasts, ice cream filled the time between like it filled in gaps in my stomach.

I ballooned. My tits drooped, my stomach swelled, my thighs chafed. I was grateful my job was mainly work-from-home, since my old clothes became restrictive to the point of pain. Buying clothes became a matter of adding the biggest size available to my cart and hoping for the best, waiting for the day I had to move to big-and-tall shops. Whenever I did have to go into the office, button-ups strained, my belt dug in, ties became comedically short. I saw my coworkers talking to each other, jokingly at first, then with concern. How could they not? I took up twice the space that I had done not long before, my face was round and jowly and soft. HR sent an email asking if I'd like a stronger chair. Emails were sent round reminding people about the gym memberships that the company offered, ostensibly office-wide, but I knew who they were targeted at.

When I reached 325 pounds I realised I almost weighed as much as Mark had when he left. Would I celebrate, I wondered, once I passed that milestone? Eat a cake to myself? Would that even register at this point?

I heard the door open and close, and I twisted around as best as I could. My flexibility had reached a critical point - now every action came with resistance, as fat bunched against fat and stretched around the sheer bulk of me. I looked around desperately at the mess around me, the ice cream cartons, cake boxes, tubs of cake frosting eaten straight.

"Ben?" Mark asked. I stood up as quickly as I could, tried to pull down my t-shirt so it covered the rest of my gut, did my best to button my shorts. I felt his hands on my arms before I even had a chance to get a good look at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I looked up, finally. "You've lost weight," I said. It was true. His gut, his double chin, his tits, all were still there, big, but diminished.

He chuckled. "The lads at the site still call me a fat bastard," he said and shook his belly. It was true, I supposed - by anyone else's standards he was still obese. "You, erm, haven't," he added, quietly. "Lost weight, I mean."

I felt huge. Disgusting. "I can lose it," I promised, tears welling up in my eyes. "I just missed you so much and-"

"No," Mark said.

"No?" I asked.

"No," he repeated. "I don't need you to lose weight, I don't need…" He sighed. "I thought I needed to get fit again. Lose all the weight. I started going to the gym, dieting. Started seeing results. Got down to two-sixty."

I peered at him. "You're not…" I began.

"No, I'm about two-eighty now. Probably a bit more," he answered my unspoken question. "I realised being smaller wasn't making me happy. Once I stopped dieting, the weight piled back on." He ran a finger across his moustache and looked around nervously. "Then I realised the reason I wasn't happy was because I wasn't with you." I noticed for the first time that he was holding back tears.

I moved towards him and help him for a while. He gripped me tight, his strong arms sinking into my soft back.

A while later, we were sat at the table, a chinese takeaway in front of us - a small attempt at normality.

"So," Mark said, looking at me sideways and speaking slowly, as if to test the waters. "What are you weighing at these days?" he asked.

I sucked air through my teeth. I knew this was coming. I wasn't upset as such - by this point, our relationship was defined by fat. It was a shock though, him coming back having lost so much weight, me having put on so much. "Three-two-five," I said, as calmly as I could. "Well, a couple of weeks ago at least."

Mark whistled and reached over to slide a hand across my belly, as if in admiration. "God, did you ever imagine you'd be the bigger one in the relationship?" he asked. I felt my face go red, and I started to stammer a response. "I've got to be honest," he continued. "I'm pretty jealous."

I choked. "Jealous?" I managed to spit out. "Of being this big?"

He sighed wistfully. "I've always been a big guy, you know? And then when I started going out with you I got used to being the biggest guy in most situations. And I definitely never thought I'd be smaller than you."

I smirked. "Fancy changing that?"

He chuckled. "Just you wait," he said. "I'll be the bigger one again in no time."

I grinned and picked up a rib. "Good," I said. "No man of mine is going to be under three hundred. You'll have to hurry up and catch me though," I told him. "I'm going to be a moving target."

He smiled. "Sounds great." He spooned some food onto his plate. "See you at three hundred and fifty pounds?" he teased.

I grinned. "At least."

[starryylies]

Simon with an emo gf :0 (or just any type of alt!!!)

SIMON WITH AN EMO GF

I’m so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry for replying so late like soooo sorry, and I love your req. like it’s really unique!! It’s awesome and I can totally imagine him dating an emo girl.

I hope this is to your liking!!! And if you have any suggestions always feel free to drop a message

☠︎︎ Okay so this man, I personally think he didn’t really care much about goth/emo culture before he met you like he just knew about it.

(Tbh he gives me emo vibes, esp w the skinny jeans)

☠︎︎ Looking at your clothes, your choppy cut hair all in all made him a bit reluctant to approach you at first simply because he couldn’t tell if he was in love with your style or if he was in love with you

☠︎︎ He lovesyour style omg, like the way you put your eyeliner from the way you make your hair every morning before you went out

☠︎︎ Definitely had made some very dark jokes about the stereotypes regarding emo.

☠︎︎ Whenever or if you guys go out nobody will dare to give you funny looks lemme tell you that, he will make sure nobody even looks at you funny.

☠︎︎ He’s really protective of you generally but when you guys go out it’s way more.

☠︎︎ He genuinely loves the way you do your eye makeup, enamoured while you do your makeup in the morning.

☠︎︎ He once asked you to do his eyeliner for him once.

☠︎︎ He is not a fan of clubbing or raves but goes with you nonetheless if you’re really into that just so you can be happy, his world lights up when you’re happy so how can we ever deny you.

☠︎︎ Thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

☠︎︎ If you’re a metalhead you both definitely go to those concerts together and collect vinyls and music from shops.

☠︎︎ If anyone dares to make fun of your fashion or your appearance they’re so dead. Like genuinely they’re 6ft underground.

☠︎︎ Whenever he’s out or deployed and he finds a shop where there’s some cute stuff (like skulls, bracelets, vinyls etc) he will pick it out for you to give when he’s back.

☠︎︎ Wears one of your bracelets before he goes for deployment, carries it as his good luck charm.

☠︎︎ He definitely doesn’t want to dye his hair but how could he say no to you so he let you dye his one strand of hair matching to yours.

☠︎︎ he would get matching skull bracelets for you guys.

☠︎︎ would get you a black ring with a small skull carved at the top of the ring.

☠︎︎ Starts copying your style a bit if you wear chunky bracelets he will try wearing them too when he’s at home.

☠︎︎ def has a I 🩷 emo girls shirt for himself.

☠︎︎ will let you do his nails black, once soap called him out for wearing nail polish and he just replied with, “my girl did this fo’ me i ain’t removing this”

☠︎︎ Is a proud and loving boyfriend all in all.

[etoileee]

ICEBREAKER, with s’mores, of course. ₁

⤷ a percy jackson dr shifting experience!

ac; for some background context this happened after our first meeting! (that post is now up as well if you’re curious about that awkward ass first meeting with the hero’s of olympus ugh) its the way this is 1k words and theres still gonna be a part two HELP

I’m feeling a little bit awkward to say the very least. I walk behind the other nine members of this so-called ‘prophecy’. none of them saying a word to each other. a few of them seemingly communicating silently through their eyes.

we reach a small fire pit, logs are circling it meant for the campers to sit on, but nobody does.

awkward silence falls upon us, I look away from them and look to the west seeing the yellow, orange and pink sunset sky. my eyes squint slightly due to the brightness.

I look back to the rest of them and my eyes widen, all of their gazes on me.

After a few moments of some of the most awkward silence I've probably ever experienced in my sixteen years on this earth, the repair boy speaks, “You look tired,” his eyes study my face as if tracing my features.

I laugh softly and bring my palm to my eye, pressing down on it gently “That’s because I am” I say sitting down on one of the logs. the rest of the follow suit. “I’ll go get the stuff to make s’mores!” the girl with curly hair shoots up from the log happily speeds off and disappears into one of the buildings.

“Leo, can you light this up please?” four eyes ask walking over to get the roasting sticks off of a wooden bench nearby.

I don’t know what the hell I expected to happen, actually, i do, I thought whoever the hell Leo was maybe put firewood in the pit and fire starting liquid on it and light it up with a match or however you make a fire.

so imagine my surprise when the repair boy stands up and shoots fire out his hand straight into the pit.

my eyes widen and a gasp leaves my lips moving back out of instinct of surprise and fear, making me almost fall off the log before catching myself.

my breathing comes in and out of my lungs in quick paints and my widened eyes look around quickly to the rest of them, seeming to find my reaction humorous.

“Why are you guys acting like that was normal!?” my voice came out louder than I had intended it to. unable to contain their amusement, they burst out laughing, the tall east asian boy clapping his hands as he laughs.

“It’s normal in our world, princess” repair boy, ‘Leo’ chuckles and sits back down on the log looking into my eyes. wanting to see my reaction, but I can’t tell if it’s to see how I react to the fact that it’s normal for him to shoot fire out of his hands or the fact that he called me ‘princess’.

I stare at him for a few seconds and my hand comes up to the front of my hair in an attempt to press my bangs down onto my forehead, a nervous habit of mine before looking away from him and looking at the fire he created.

A grin slowly creeps onto Leo’s lips, clearly pleased with the reaction he got out of me.

Asshole.

“Leave her alone, Leo,” the pretty girl with choppy brown hair rolls her eyes at him getting a roasting stick. Leo puts his hands up in a playful surrender, “I’m not doing nothin’!” he plays innocent with doe eyes trying to fight back a smirk.

“Sorry about him, he’s annoying,” she says, handing me a roasting stick as well, sitting between me and the tall blonde boy with frames.

I like her.

“Hey—!” He opens his mouth to protest but only makes it so far till the girl who went to get the s’more ingredients comes running back with a big smile on her face. “I’m back!” she says excitedly and puts the stuff on the small wooden table not too far from the fire pit.

we crowd around the small table, grabbing the jumbo-sized marshmallows and sticking them on the pointy roasting sticks and sticking them in the fire.

I swallow a bit watching my marshmallow in the fire, trying to gather the courage to strike up a conversation with the rest of the teenagers. the people pleaser in me wants them all to like and be their friend desperately. as embarrassing as it is.

I chew on the inside of my cheek before finally speaking, trying to not immediately regret it once I do.

“What's your guys’ names?”

Leo’s eyes meet mine, the fire underneath him lighting his face orange, accentuating the sharp contours of his face. “Leo,” he says simply.

Obvi dummy, I heard.

“Leo what?” I say looking into his eyes as well, refusing to look away having a sneaky feeling he wants me to look away first.

He smiles softly looking down at me, but not the fuck boy smile I expected. it seemed genuine. “Valdez. Leo Valdez.” he looks back down at his marshmallow, turning the stick to make sure all sides are roasted to perfection.

Okay... I judged him too quickly.

My heartbeat quickened a bit hearing his last name, realizing he is also a Latino, and feeling glad that there’s some familiarity and common ground between the both of us.

Well, it was kinda obvious.. his dark curls, dark eyes, tan skin, his name being ‘Leo’. but I didn't wanna assume and embarrass myself.

“Where are you from, Leo Valdez?” I smile mischievously, finding it fun to use his full name when addressing him. He grins, his dark brown eyes have a glint of amusement in them.

“M’from Austin, Texas,” He smiles at me again “but my family is from Mexico” he adds, bringing his sticks with the on-fire marshmallows away from the pit and to his mouth to blow the fire out.

I get even more excited hearing that he’s Mexican as well, just like me.

Usually, I wouldn’t be this excited about seeing another Mexican in the wild. we’re everywhere. I don’t know why but I didn't think that there would be another Mexican here with me at camp half blood. because I don’t exactly think of a Mexican when I think of a demigod.

But here we both are.

I bite back a smile, trying to not show how excited I am, but it fails miserably. “What part of Mexico?” At this point, there is a full-blown smile on my face, which is humiliating but right now I'm just happy that me and someone else here are from the same place.

He laughs running his finger through his dark curls “Tabasco” Leo answers moving the roasting stick from his right hand to his left. his right hand going behind him undoing the buckles on his tool belt and taking it off. putting it on the bench behind him.

“Y hablas?” I tease watching him put the belt on the log “obvio, quien crees soy?” he giving me playful sass putting his free hand on his hip.

”Y tú de dónde eres?” He asks before I feel my roasting stick be taken out of my hand making me look over to whoever took it from me, seeing the Asian guy blow out my burning marshmallows for me.

I like him. He's like a gentle giant.

“thank you” I smile at him and he returns it before I turn my attention back to Leo.

“Yo soy nacida aquí, pero mi familia es de veracruz” I turn the base of the roasting stick between my thumb, middle, and pointer finger to examine all sides of my now burnt marshmallow.

thank god— sorry— THE gods (apparently) that big guy noticed my burning marshmallow. it probably would’ve turned into ash and blown away in the wind if he didn't.

Just when I'm about to answer the pretty girl who called Leo annoying earlier speaks up

“I thought you wanted to know all our names?” she teases, narrowing her eyes at me taking a bite out of her s’more.

my eyes widen in embarrassment.

I just spent who knows how long talking to this idiot and forgot that I asked the rest of them what their names were as well.

“Sorry,” my hand goes to flatten my bangs out once more, “I’m a little bit talkative,” I laugh awkwardly. “A little?” Ocean Eyes teases with his mouth full of marshmallows, gram crackers and chocolate earning a smack on the back of his head from the blonde girl next to him.

“Well, I’m Piper by the way,” she tells me with a warm smile, making my ears burn a little bit, making me try to casually take my hair out from behind my ears to hide them. hoping nobody noticed them probably turning pink.

“I’m Jason Grace” The tall blonde boy stands and extends his hand out for me to shake with a smile on his face.

I smile back and nod attentively, taking his hand in mine and shaking it. His grip on my hand is gentle. Like he’s afraid to hurt me.

He has big ass hands.

they’re soft too.

I’m brought out of my thoughts by the sound of Piper's voice ”We’re saying first and last names?” She looks at Jason. Jason just shrugs “Leo said his first and last name” and he lets my hand go gently.

“I’m Hazel Levesque,” she says with a friendly smile and a small wave, eating a small piece of chocolate.

“Frank Zhang” he raised his hand towards me in acknowledgment.

I’m just now realizing he didn’t eat a single s’more.

” Annabeth Chase” her arms are crossed over her chest.

“Reyna,” the girl with the braided hair says and leaves it at that. I don’t know if she likes me very much.

“I’m Percy Jackson,”

I look down to see who the voice belongs to, it is Ocean Eyes.

“And his name,” he points to the cool emo boy “is Nico Di Angelo,”

I and Nico’s eyes meet. It feels like he can see right through me. I smile softly, not knowing what else to do. his eyes flicker from my eyes down to my lips and just nods in acknowledgment.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” I say quietly nodding back.

“And you?” Percy nods towards me “What's your name?” I feel nervous all of a sudden, feeling all their gazes on me. my hand once again makes its way up to flatten my bags over my eyebrows.

“Cītlalli. Cītlalli O’hara” I say sitting back down with my s’more in hand.

“okay say that one more time but slower,” Jason says, leaning closer to me and resting his elbows on his knees. I laugh softly and nod “Cīt-la-lli,” I say slower for him, his eyes focusing on the way my mouth moves saying my name. the rest of them are also paying attention to how my name is said.

“Cītlalli?” He says my name hesitantly, not wanting to mess up the pronunciation of it, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s Nahuatl right?” Leo asks, finishing up his s’more. rubbing his fingers against the material of his shirt in an attempt to get the sticky marshmallow off him.

I nod in response to him.

“What’s Nahuatl?” Percy tilts his head slightly with one of his eyebrows raised. “It’s a native language from Mexico,” I say with a small nod and smile. Piper perks up a bit hearing this, “what does your name mean?” she leans in a bit closer in anticipation.

“star. it means star,” I tell her a bit shyly, looking down at the ground.

“How fitting,” Percy jokes, “Since you’re the daughter of the night and all.”

[blueisquitetired]

When you got time, do you have any tips on writing Ingo and Emmets dialogue? I really like how you write them but I can't seem to get their speech down. It's mainly Ingos which is annoying since he canonical has more dialogue than Emmet.

Oh thank you!! I’m glad you enjoy- writing these boys dialogue is one of my favorite parts of writing and has made me seriously consider how I write speech for every character I do. It’s been great practice!

Okay, actual advice time lol.

HOW TO WRITE INGO AND EMMET

(According to me, Blue)

(Now, keep in mind that there isn’t one true way to write the boys, and this is just how I personally write them. Take this with a grain of salt)

When you’re first starting out writing the boys I recommend writing dialogue in your own voice and then submasifying it.

For example, let’s take this dialogue and transform it:

“Sorry I’m late for work! My dog chewed through my nice pants so I had to find some new ones! It’s been a bit of a rough day today, not gonna lie.”

So starting with Ingo-

Ingo talks extremely formally and is super long winded. When writing dialogue for him, try to imagine a fancy British butler who uses long words and long sentences. Replace normal words with more “fancy” ones and use more words then you really need to. (A thesaurus can be extremely useful for this)

“My sincerest apologies for my tardy arrival!”

Then, pepper in train terms as much as possible. If he goes three sentences without saying something train related, find a way to stick one in. If you’re stuck, look up a list of train words and take inspiration (I’ll include a list of train expressions I commonly pull from at the bottom of the post) (Make sure to use “Bravo!” and “All aboard!” whenever applicable as well)

“I awoke to the unpleasant surprise of joltik holes in my trousers this morning- which delayed my cab significantly as I was forced to find an undamaged pair!”

I personally strive to use consonants (stuff like I’d, we’ll, don’t) as little as possible with the boys. For Emmet it’s to add to the choppiness of his dialogue and for Ingo it’s because that man would rather use fifty words when one will do. (It also makes them sound more professional!)

“Honestly, after a morning like this one, I pray that the remainder of today’s tracks prove to be much smoother.”

Another thing to keep in mind is that Ingo is extremely polite while Emmet is a bit more blunt. Try to use titles like “sir” and “miss” when writing Ingo- and then just don’t bother with Emmet.

Next up is Emmet, who I personally find much harder then Ingo! Unlike Ingo who’s dialogue you need to add words to, Emmet you need to subtract and simplify! This is the post I originally read to kinda get the jive of things, but here’s my pointers!

First off, figure out what concepts the are being expressed in your sentence, and split those apart.

“Sorry I’m late for work!” has two parts- an apology and an acknowledgment that the person is late. For Emmet we would want to split this single sentence into two.

“I am Emmet! I am late! Sorry!”

Next is vocal ticks! Emmet has several, and they should ideally be sprinkled in sparingly through his dialogue. (You can see that I used ‘I am Emmet’ in the previous section)

‘I am Emmet’ should be used when he is joining a conversation or when he’s about to say something about himself. It CAN be used more then once in a single conversation- but try not to overdo it.

‘Verrrrrrrry’ is another one! Other submas authors have him roll the r on other words as well, but I stick with verrrrrry. This one is easy to use- just extend the word very with extra Rs and use very whenever naturally applicable.

‘Yup’ is one as well- and one I admittedly don’t use often. It rarely jives with the way I write Emmet so I usually don’t bother- but you should definitely keep it in mind!

And of course, train terms! Less often then Ingo of course (since he says less words in general) but if you can find a way to fit it in, go for it.

“The joltiks chewed holes in my pants! Verrrrry naughty. Had to find new pants. Holey pants do not pass safety checks! Yup!”

Finally, the man likes his patterns! When writing Emmet it’s a good idea to have his Blubapedia page open nearby so you can just steal chunks of his script from that. (You can, and should do this for Ingo too!)

“Bad morning. Oh well. Follow the schedule! Everybody smile! All aboard!”

Of course, the man is perfectly capable of speaking longer sentences- but when and where he does so is up to the author.

All that being said, it’s important to remember that you’ll likely have to attempt their dialogue a few times before getting a sentence to flow right. Even for these examples I had to do a couple takes until I found one that really worked!

Here’s a couple of other notes for writing Pokémon characters in general:

Watch out for expressions and words that use animals. (like beeline or ‘in the dog house’) Try to replace those words with their Pokémon counterparts- (such as combeeline [which I’ve typed so many times I’ve started using internally in my day to day life]) or something that sounds close enough (like if your censoring f***, ducklett doesn’t work nearly as good as duck. So try muk instead!)

Do your best to replace religious swears with Pokémon religion! Instead of heavens, or the big G word, use words like, ‘Dragons!’ Or ‘Sweet Swords of Justice!’ (Of course, these are Unovan swears. For Hisui you should be using things like ‘Sinnoh’ and ‘great Time!’. Other regions have their own legendaries as well)

And finally, my list of train terms I pull from regularly!

Cab (or car): To refer to one’s body

“I am afraid my cab is in need of repairs.”

Tracks: A plan or intended route

“Very well! I will follow the tracks you have set!”

Destination: The goal or like, the actual destination

“Bravo! Your talent has brought you to the destination called victory!”

Station (or terminal): A location

“Very well! Let us set our tracks to the Pearl Clan’s station!”

Two Car Train (or three or four or whatever number you need): Friends or a team

“Emmet and I are a two car train!”

Couple (opposite being uncoupled): To join together

“I must ask that you couple your car to mine as we make our way through here. It can get quite dangerous!”

Engine: Another term for your body, but more specifically in regards to energy or drive

“I’m afraid I must rest my engine.”

Refuel: Eat.

“It is getting quite late- let us take a break to refuel.”

Conducting: Guiding

“I look forward to conducting you on this endeavor!”

Derailment (or collision, wreck, trainwreck): Something that has gone wrong.

“Apologies. It appears I have been derailed.”

Unscheduled (opposite being scheduled): Something unexpected

“Ah! A cave in! It appears we must make an unscheduled stop.”

Passenger: Person (or Pokémon)

“It appears we have picked up some unexpected passengers!”

Conductor: Ingo sometimes uses this to refer to himself (works especially well in Hisui)

“Passenger, please refrain from stabbing the conductor”

Delay: Something happening later then scheduled

“Apologies for the delay! Let us begin!”

Sidetracked: put off course

“Ah, but now I have sidetracked us with this talk.”

All aboard!: Good conversation ender 💙

“ALL ABOARD!!!”

[whosthere54]

Rest of my thoughts for the episode Family Reunion (I took notes as I was watching so if it’s still choppy I’m trying ti figure out how I did episode stuff before lol)

-=+=-

The was Aax had to specify that they weren’t here to hurt them

Yes they got blown up by Athena, but they don’t think it matters. They didn’t even really react, just shook it off and they were fine. They don’t see how much of a deal that is because of the mindset they’ve grown accustomed to.

-

Okay when was the last time they laughed like that? Actually laughed at something that wasn’t one of their lil psychotic laughs they do after something bad happens? Because I think that’s neat.

-

“I miss you. And I still love you… even after everything” don’t mind me I’m just gonna go cry real quick-

The way they hesitate when Rae asks them if they want a hug their so touch starved-

FABLE THEY WERE HAVING A MOMENT

The way that Icarus’s demeanor immediately changes even if it’s just little things oh I eat that up-

“I have always been a god” hit hard actually

-

OH OF COURSE HE KEPT HER IN THE CAVE OF COURSE

Their not ready to acknowledge that whole thing and they have to go in there agh

-

Oh I love how he basically said I’m sorry that I couldn’t kill you in the cave that’s great

“Are you going out again?” “I should. Even though I’m tired, I should.” And then their alone again without even a hug.

“Dad said that I could build a bird area” they needed his permission

-=+=-

Guys this is one of them episodes I’m going to watch multiple times rahrahrah

Also when they were talking in front of Isla Icarus standing away from them and not saying much as well as being out of the loop reminded me of- idk what episode it was I think it was a conversation when Ic got out of Prison in S1 or just an ominous bane conversation. Maybe that’s just me but y’know I’m gonna say it anyway

Anyways go drink some water eat some food I appreciate you guys <3

[nepobabyeurydice]

On Ao3

Summary:

Piper brings her friends from school back to the house. Jason and Leo are nice young men…it's just Piper has never done this. Tristan McLean is introduced to Jason and Leo under almost mundane circumstances and is confused.

Tristan waited for his daughter at the airport, hoping desperately that he wouldn't be recognized and that Piper wouldn't be irritated he was here. She’s growing up, Tristan could remember how embarrassed he got when his dad picked him up from school after Tristan got his permit.

He’s ashamed to say it took him a second to find Piper, her choppy haircut had taken on a glossy sheen that Tristan had never seen, there were subtle touches of makeup on her face. The lightest touch was just enough to hide something small, and she looked happier than he had ever seen her after going to a new school.

The boys behind her were chatting casually. The blond one was carrying the heavier bags while the smaller one dragged a shiny metallic case behind him, they were both laughing and Tristan couldn’t pick up any of the normal tension that came from rivalry.

Piper’s kaleidoscope eyes flitted over the people parked before landing on the car. Then, she met Tristan’s eyes, and he braced for rejection only to be hit with joy. The smile, crooked and beautiful lit up Piper’s face. Her friends followed her gaze and each took one of Piper’s hands and dashed towards the car.

“You came!” Piper said breathlessly. “I thought Hedge—”

Tristan barely managed not to shuffle awkwardly instead brushing back Piper’s fringe. “He’s the one who suggested I should come. Did you not want me to—”

“Of course I wanted you to come!” she cried, her eyes sincere. Then, seemingly remembering her manners (not that Tristan would’ve minded) waved at her friends. “This is Jason Cesario, and this is Leo Valdez.”

Tristan smiled and was pleased to see that none of them were flush. It’s always so awkward when he has someone’s Piper’s age look at him like that, never mind her friends.

“Wow, Beauty Queen, here I thought you loved me.” Leo said sarcastically. Both of the children rolled their eyes and Piper pulled Leo into a casual headlock and ruffled his hair.

“I’m sorry, Supreme Commander Toolbelt, would you like some ice for that?” Piper sniped back. Leo pouted and Piper let him go easily, not looking repulsed at the fact that she had a smear of—was that grease—in the shape of fingerprints on her jacket.

He’d never thought he’d see the day when Piper willingly brought friends over to their ‘oversized, 1% not even completely practical box’ (her words not Tristan’s, although he did miss the simplicity of the rez sometimes.)

Jason smiled at their antics and popped the trunk open dumping the luggage into the back. He offered his hand to Tristan and Tristan took it surprised to feel calluses on the whole hand.

Jason seemed to pick up on it. “I do practical stuff here and there.”

Piper and Leo snorted. Tristan let it slide.

Piper took a shotgun and her friends slipped into the back with zero complaint.

They were quiet throughout the ride, although they all fidgeted. Leo had rubber bands, Jason was alternating between reading some thick book and tugging soothingly at his hair. Piper bit her lip, ran her hands through her braid and spun her brackets around. But it was quiet, so Tristan couldn’t complain, although he gently tapped Piper’s hand when she began pinching her skin absentmindedly.

She shot him an exasperated look but stopped anyway, so he counted that as a win.

“So how’d you all meet?” Tristan asked.

All three of them seem to exchange a look without even turning their heads.

“Leo was in all my classes, so it was inevitable really,” Piper said fondly. “And Jason showed up, and we got attached.”

“He’s a parasite,” Leo mock-whispered.

Jason rolled his eyes and ruffled Leo’s hair. “I mooch off you for a map one time.”

“A map?” Tristan asked worriedly.

Piper gave him an exasperated look. “We do go to a wilderness school, Dad. Jason has a…”

“Sense of direction that only works when it’s raining.” Leo shouted although he was swiftly muffled by Jason.

“You’re the one who made a bomb!” Jason cried exasperatedly. “We’re not winning any awards, Leo!”

Piper sighed and pulled down the mirror, so she could see the boys behind her. “Guys, put on your seatbelts. Leo, please don’t stick your head out the window, the paparazzi are everywhere, Jason, your hair is fine and Annabeth Approved.”

The boys went quiet and Tristan picked up on the two clicks of seatbelts hastily put on. Then: “They really do have zero respect for privacy don’t they?”

Because outside Tristan’s gates twenty paparazzi yelling frantically trying to get a photo.

He sighed. “Pipes, I’m so sorry—”

She gave him a little half-smile that reminded him so much of Charlotte Tristan nearly cried. But there was no time for that as Tristan had to turn all his attention into not hitting someone and it turning into a lawsuit.

Which is why the sound of a window opening was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Hey!” Jason yelled. The cameras turned onto him, but a distinct scent of ozone hung heavily in the air. “I think you’re trespassing on private property here.”

The cameras flashed and Tristan sighed. They had never cared despite frequent requests for a modicum of decency. At least Piper hadn’t had any real scandals beyond the BMW and even that had been hushed up since the dealer hadn’t wanted to subject a child to that scrutiny.

Pipes and her voice, his dad would’ve been proud.

The paparazzo suddenly yelped and scattered as rain barrels down onto the earth with vicious fury.

It faded as though it had never been there once the paparazzi fled the scene, so Tristan took advantage and escaped into the security of his house.

He pretended not to see Leo and Jason exchanging a high-five behind him.

***

Leo gaped wide-eyed at the house while Jason simply took in the wealth like it was something normal, and he had to seen every day.

“Which rooms are they staying in?” Piper asked.

“The ones next to yours. Mellie and Gleeson have rooms in the lower east wing, so you won't have to go far if you need anything from them.”

”Are you shooting another movie?” Piper asked eagerly. “Is it another classic's movie? Or is it--”

“It's a Jake Steel movie.” Tristan sighed and Piper gave a groan. “I'd have you research something for me, but it's pretty clear what it's going to be.”

“Violence, violence, and more violence.” she said bitterly. “You really should take a Cherokee role though. It'd be more interesting than a Jake Steel movie.”

“Too close to home, Pipes.” Tristan sighed. “Everything is far, far too close to home.”

Home where his dad died. Home where he hadn't been while his father suffered in silence until he could no more. If he had just pushed for the King of Sparta to come out just a week earlier he might've had the right amount of money.

“Wait!” Leo said, startled. “You're Jake Steel? Man, the amount of make-up they must put on your face to make you look more white passing.”

Tristan grimaced. “I took it fresh from King of Sparta and agreed to do any Jake Steel movie that happened in the future. They hadn't realized I wasn't white since my last name-”

“Looks white.” Leo finished, his face full of empathy. “Yeah, my full name is Leonidas, so my teachers expected me to be a Castellano transfer student and got Huston born and raised instead.”

“Leonidas,” Piper and Jason sniggered. Leo shot them an acidic look.

Piper smiled at him angelically and turned to Tristan. “I'll talk to Mellie and sort out your schedule, so you can spend more time with us if that's okay.

“Piper,” Tristan said, touched but heartbroken all the same. “I would love nothing more than to spend time with you.”

She smiled, broad, hopeful, and close to tears.

***

The area of beach Mellie reserved for them was truly beautiful. The water almost looked clear, the sand had zero trash (thank god) and it was very clearly isolated which meant you would hear any stalkers and the security team had fewer things to juggle.

He owed that woman a raise, and maybe maternity leave, although she insisted that she wouldn't need it.

“I'm literally going to die if I get in there.” Jason informed Piper bluntly as she sprayed sunscreen on him. ”I've never been the best swimmer and with Percy gone-“

”You'll be fine,“ Piper insisted. ”If you're not, I'll buy you ice cream.”

“That isn't comforting.”

“It's supposed to be a happy thought.”

Jason sighed and allowed himself to be dragged into the water. Tristan eyed him warily. He was exactly Piper's type despite her never having a serious boyfriend.

Tristan could still recall the hilarity of when she first met Zac Efron and Anne Hathaway. The blushing, the stammering, the abrupt self-confidence that charmed those around her once it came out.

Jason at least was wise enough not to try anything with Piper yet, likely frightened of either the paparazzi (unlikely) or just not sure about how Piper would take his affection. (rational, she could be surprisingly vindictive)

Leo was already torso deep in the water cackling every time he emerged from the waves trying to pull him into the depths. The child had zero fear and instead splashed around with a grin and a slightly maniac light in his eyes.

Jason seemed content to be just knee-deep but at Piper's insistence plunged deeper to join both her and Leo's chaotic wave ducking.

Tristan laughed as Piper was toppled over by a particularly fierce wave and emerged near the shore, panting furiously but looking delighted as she chased after the boys. 

“You should join them.” Mellie encouraged. Tristan didn’t even bother to ask how she had appeared out of nowhere. Mellie was supernatural in her ability to appear and Tristan could accept that. 

“They’re having fun.” Tristan replied as Leo hurled himself through a large wave.

Mellie smiled. “Piper wants to spend time with you, Jason wants your approval and Leo is in desperate need of someone older to care for him. I believe you check the boxes with your presence, Tris.”

Jason shrieked as Piper hurled herself upon his back and clamored upon it, both of them crying out as a wave pulled them down and emerging laughing.

“Go have fun.” Mellie said and that was an order.

Tristan considered arguing, but one glance at Piper made him dismiss it. He’d do many things for his daughter. Having fun wouldn’t cost him anything. 

***

In the end Piper left in tears back to her school.

“I love you,” she said. “I’ll see you next year.”

Tristan pressed a kiss on her head, long and frantic. “Your grandfather would be proud, I know I am. Be careful, Pipes.”

Piper leaned back. “Always am,” she lied. “Call me.”

“I will.”

Jason gave Tristan a solemn nod and shook his hand like he was a soldier going off to war. Leo smiled brilliantly and allowed Tristan to pull him into a hug.

He tried not to think that this might be the last time he ever saw the three of them together again. 

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Your Fault I'm So Horknee Event - Epilogue

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Note: Translating smut sucks. Apologies if this does too. You can find the Event + Sweet end here, and the Premium end here. This is a continuation of the Premium, in Silvio's POV.

~~~~~~~~

“Ten days,” he says, and she doesn’t follow. “It’s been ten days since I last touched you. I’ll have you regretting you ever made me endure it that long.”

He’s been teased so much, nothing remains but painful desire. Pressing his lips to the tip of one toe, he kisses a slow path upwards - Emma making half-hearted protests the entire time, but it’s obvious her heart isn’t in them. 

To himself, he blames all this on her for being so cute. All on her entirely. Working his way up past her knees, trailing kisses up her thighs - higher, to the spot he knows will get him the best reaction of all…

“Silvio…don’t!” 

Emma’s hand is desperately trying to push his head back, but he ignores it in favor of hooking her legs over his shoulders so she can’t go anywhere, his mouth grazing lightly against her damp center. 

Sorry, he silently apologizes to her as she softly moans. But I’m all out of patience.

He circles her with his tongue, licking and sucking as if he could pull the very heat out from inside of her. It doesn’t take long for the evidence of her arousal to run down and wet the table beneath her, her body going wantonly languid. And when he teases her clit mercilessly, a string of cries falls from her, one right after another. 

But each time does nothing to sate his hunger - if anything, it only grows.

Still dissatisfied, he lifts his head from between her legs just as he feels her begin to quiver on the precipice, and looks up at her…

“Silvio…you idiot…” she accuses.

“Hey…no need to cry.” Alarmed, he’s cursing to himself, figuring he must have overdone it.

Coming back to his senses at the sight of her with her hands over her eyes, and wondering if she was so mortified she really had hated it. “Emma, are you alright??”

Her only answer is silence, and he starts scrambling. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I’ll be nicer with you, please don’t be upset -”

She’s still not responding, and then he stops abruptly. 

Hold up a minute. Taking a closer look, it’s apparent that she’s fighting back amusement, pressing her lips together tightly.

“....Hey!” he says, in disbelief. Grabbing the hand she’d been hiding her eyes with and pulling it away, where the only sign of tears he sees lingering are most definitely not from being upset. “You’re messing with me.”

“Just a little revenge,” she tells him, saying she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she didn’t get back at him at leat a bit for embarrassing her so much.

He stops and turns red at her explanation, and finds himself picking her up in his arms, her own cheeks pink and refusing to meet his eyes. Cursing and swearing at how he can’t hold back when she’s like this. 

“Silvio?!” She says his name in alarm as he tosses her onto the bed and strips his own clothes off. 

“Quit saying such cute things, you idiot!” he accuses, telling her if she does he might just dick her down too hard and be the end of her then and there. She’s flailing and protesting that, when he shuts her down. “Be quiet. I told you I’ve got ten days worth pent up.”

His fingers delve deep inside her, as he takes her breast in his mouth. No intention of stopping no matter how many times a climax shakes her.

She’s crying out, tossing her head back and forth as if at her breaking point, and he takes that as sign enough to shift atop her and drive himself home the way he’s been wanting to so badly. Finally feeling something like satisfaction for the first time in ages.

The no-touching ban was even worse than he’d realized, he supposes. So madly in love with her it had been an agony of sorts. He silently vows that he’ll never let her put something like that in place again - how it was something like torture not being able to touch her. 

“Emma.” 

Just him saying her name is enough to have her smiling happily…and the sight of that alone has his heart all aflutter. His desire spilling over unabated. Admitting, to himself at least, that he’s so hopelessly in love with her.

~~~~~~~~

“No touching allowed!” Emma declares.

“Whaa?!”

The next morning, the moment she’d woken up, Emma had dressed and ran out of the room..and then had made such a proclamation. 

A furious Silvio asks why, when they’d settled the problem, and Emma agrees they had, but things still aren’t copacetic. 

“Yesterday, that…that…!” she sputters.

He realizes that’s what she’s still hung up on, fully aware that he got carried away last night. He’d had her again and again, never satiated, and it’s clear it’s all so fresh in her mind how thoroughly he’d debauched her that she’s too embarrassed to even say it. 

Guess I lost control a bit at how cute she was.

He smirks at her. “If you put a ban in place, I’ll do something that’ll make you think I was going easy on you last night.”

She gasps. “If you do that, my heart might explode and take me with it!”

Oh so that’s why she’s being like this, he realizes - and he thinks he deserves the highest of praise for clinging to enough of a shred of reason to keep from jumping her right then and there. 

Aloud, she says that if he thinks that way it’s only fair for him to be embarrassed too, and alarmed he tells her to back away. 

“No! You should be as humiliated as I was!” she exclaims, and over his protests she seems serious in her righteous anger as she tries to grab him. 

Before he knows it, the tables are turned and he’s now the one trying to run from her. Wondering what the heck he’s doing…even as the sight of her smile blooming bright in the sun takes his breath away.

All that lust he should have purged last night coming roaring back the moment he sees her like this.

He’s in real trouble, he can admit to himself…because when it comes to her, his desire knows no bounds.

[boqvistsbabe]

Different Skates: Cale AU - Pt. 2

A/N: Okay, so a couple of things: 1.) I know this wasn’t super anticipated but still I apologize that this took so long to write (I started it the day after I posted the first part, that was in Oct), 2.) it’s Thanksgiving themed and I’m very aware that it is way past that but I didn’t want to have to go back and change a bunch of stuff, 3.) there’s supposed to be a couple more parts and with how I have it planned out other already passed holidays will be in them, 4.) this is very unedited and I’m sorry if it’s choppy like i said it’s been written over multiple months which is very not me (normally i write everything in one sitting), 5.) I hope y’all like it!

Once again thanks to that irl friend for the peer pressure and for the much asked for peer pressure from @typical-simplelove and to @savoies for being my soundboard

Warnings: swear words, she/her pronouns for the reader, if I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 4,402 💀

—————-

“Okay great practice today guys. Go home and rest up, don’t forget tomorrow night at my house, team dinner. Be there by seven and please dress decent for pictures.” Charlie was just finishing up as you walked out of the break room you used to edit in.

Tomorrow night was Thanksgiving dinner with the whole team. So tonight you get to help cook everything that can be cooked ahead of time. Charlie was helping too, but only with the stuff that doesn’t require the stove or oven. He complains every time we don’t let him use them, but in our defence he almost burned the house down. He’s not allowed to have candles either. He’s mostly gonna help our dad put up tables and chairs; after they move the furniture and clean the living room.

The boys are so loud in the locker room that you can hear them all the way out here in the lobby. You're doing some last minute touch ups to some game shots before posting them to the team Instagram while you wait for Charlie. You hear footsteps approaching and look up. It’s Cale. He looks over just as you look up.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” He asks with a smile.

“I’m okay, you?” You’ve decided to be civil with him since he’s been nice to you so far.

“I’m pretty good, excited for a couple days off to rest.”

“Yeah that’s fair.” You don’t really know what to say after that so you just kind of sit there.

“Hey Caler, you still coming over tonight to help move stuff?” Charlie looks at Cale as he walks up beside him. Also what? You knew nothing about this.

“Yeah of course. Just gotta go home to drop my stuff off then I’ll head your way.” His eyes flick from you to your brother and then back again.

“Awesome, thanks dude. I’m not sure Pops can help move the furniture anymore, even if he thinks he can.” Charlie’s not wrong. Your dad has had some issues with arthritis for a long time but it’s gotten a lot worse in the last year. You just had figured you’d help this time around.

“Yeah not a problem. I’m gonna head out now, but I’ll see y’all in a bit.” He gives you a little

wave before heading to the parking lot.

“You warming up to him yet?” Charlie asks as you head to his car,” “he’s a really nice guy.”

“I know, he’s alright. I thought I was helping you tonight?”

“That was the plan, but I was talking to him about tomorrow and mentioned Pops not being able to move stuff anymore and he offered to help.” Charlie shrugs as he turns the key.

———————-

You were elbow deep in the turkey (literally) when the doorbell rang. Your mom yelled for Charlie to get the door. His footsteps thundered down the stairs as he ran to let Cale in.

This turkey was the most annoying thing to deal with, and you still had a second one to go. Your mom loves to go all out for the team dinners, especially since she knows not all of the guys have family that does. This year she decided to let you deal with the turkeys instead of the sides. Which fair but you were more of a dessert kind of gal. You didn’t mind doing the turkey, you know it’s your mom’s way of passing the torch; but you’d rather be making pies and cookies right now. Your mom just insists on plucking and dressing and all of that ourselves instead of just getting a frozen one, why you have no idea but it’s a pain in your ass right now.

“Hey Ma, Cale and I are gonna move furniture so we can set up the tables!” Charlie yelled before disappearing into the living room.

“Alright just be careful!” She yelled back before turning to the doorway, “ Hi Cale, how are you sweetie?”

“Great Mrs. Y/LN, you?” When you looked up he was standing just outside the kitchen door, he caught your eye and smiled. Giving him a small smile you looked back to the turkey you were violating. Gosh this is going to take forever. You blow a piece of hair out of your face before it gets totally in your view.

“I know told you to call me Melissa, and I’m fine dear. You better run off and help Charlie before he decides he can move that heavy furniture by himself.”

“I’m on it, don't worry.” Is the last thing he says before he disappears into the living room.

“He’s such a sweet boy. Your father wasn’t happy about us deciding he wasn’t helping but we compromised with him being able to “supervise” whatever that hell that means.” She shook her head before walking to the over to pull out two of the pies.

There is so much food that we still have to cook, you were just glad that your mom has it figured out perfectly. You’re still gonna be up a couple more hours but there’s enough to do you won’t even realize.

——————-

The boys are watching a game in the living room. The only reason you can tell is cause of the yelling. They finished setting up all the tables and chairs an hour ago. Both turkeys are ready to be cooked and the only thing left to do tonight is clean up and set stuff out for tomorrow morning. Thank goodness, you felt like you could take a nap right there on the kitchen island. You’ve had a long day between editing, two practices (both dance and skating) the gym, and some schoolwork plus cooking; you were ready to curl up in bed and sleep the night away.

“Okay we’ll take a quick break then clean up. Everything we need for tomorrow should be set out so that we don’t have to worry about it. All the desserts are in the fridge or are covered and on the counter. The only thing for tomorrow is the sides and setting out places. Good work kiddo. The turkeys look great.”

“Thanks Ma, pies look good too. Can’t wait to dig in tomorrow.” Dessert was by far your favourite part of the holidays. Best food group in your opinion.

You both plopped down on the stools at the island. Grabbing the remote from the counter, you turn the tv on to some Christmas movie. It was one of your mom's favourites so you turned the volume up so she could hear it better. Not even five minutes in you heard the boys head towards the kitchen. Charlie no doubt on his way to steal a cookie or six.

“Really?! Christmas movies already? It’s not even Thanksgiving?!”

“Hush Charles, you know Christmas starts on the first in this family.” This argument has been going on between your mom and Charlie since he was ten. You and your pops stayed out of it.

“Christmas starts in October for my family.” You look over to Cale, who’s leaning against the island right next to you.

“Bro what? That’s even more crazy than my mom.” Charlie was gobsmacked.l, “What about Halloween?!”

“Oh yeah we decorate for that too, but the movies and music start then.”

“Dude there is something so wrong with you people.” Charlie shakes his head before sneaking towards the counter by the fridge. Where the desserts were set.

“Charlie, you leave the food alone or you will be cleaning the whole kitchen tonight.” Mom says without looking from the TV.

“Fine.” He heads back to the living room where your dad was still watching the game.

“I can help clean up tonight.” You looked back to Cale after he said that.

“You don’t need to do that, me and Y/n have got it, we just needed to rest a bit. Plus you’ve done enough.”

“Please Melissa, I insist. You’ve done so much for the team, it’s only fair at least one of us helps.”

“Fine, but Y/n will help. You don’t know where everything goes and she won’t mind.” Your mom gets up to head to the living room, stopping to kiss the top of your head and pat Cale’s arm as she walks by.

A little bit of an assumption there mother but okay. You didn’t really mind honestly, it wasn’t fair the Cale was cleaning up in someone else’s house. Even if he insisted.

“You don’t actually have to help, you’ve done a lot today too. Just tell me where stuff goes and I’ll put it there.” Cale is now looking down at where you’re still sat on the stool.

“It’s not fair that you’re cleaning up our mess, I’ll help. I’m not even that tired.” You stand up from the stool and move over to the sink. You let out a big yawn before making eye contact with Cale. He’s trying not to smile.

“You sure about that?” He’s totally smiling now. And you’re a little surprised to find that you’re smiling back.

“Okay maybe I am tired, but I still should help.”

“Yes, you can help by telling me what to do. All I have to do is do it. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“That is the cheesiest thing you could’ve said, but fine you win. This time.” You hop up on the counter.

“Okay where should I start?” Cale turns to look at you expectantly.

“Hmmm dishwasher would probably be best.” Was your reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay now that all that is done, what’s next?” Cale looks at you again. Those pretty blue eyes meeting your own. He tilts his head a little. That’s when you realised that you were kind of starring.

“Oh yeah! That’s it, I don’t think we have anything else to do tonight. Everything else we have to do in the morning. So you can go hang out with Charlie. I think he’s still in the other room watching the game. Thanks for all your help today.” You hopped off the counter and walked to where he was standing by the island.

“Okay, I actually think I’m gonna head out. I can come help out in the morning. I’m not the best cook but I think I can handle it.” He’s giving you a half smile and between the Christmas music from the movie still playing and the low lighting in the kitchen; he looks entirely too attractive right now.

“You don’t need to do that. You’ve done a lot already.”

“Ah no it’s fine. I got nothin else to do.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then. We’re gonna start at about eight since dinner is gonna be at noon. Just come over whenever after that.”

“I’ll be here at eight then. See you in the morning Y/N.” He gives you a nod and a smile before heading to the front door. You hear him stop and say goodnight to your family before the front door shuts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re totally dragging. It’s too early to do this. Not even changing out of your pajamas, you head downstairs. There’s already a mix of smells happening. Your mom must have put the turkeys in early.

Walking into the kitchen you slowly register everything going on. Your mom is checking the turkeys in the oven, your dad is drinking coffee and reading the paper from last week at the island, there’s a Christmas movie playing and Charlie is nowhere to be found. Figures.

Twenty minutes later, you’re slightly more awake, breakfast has been eaten, you’ve started helping with the sides, and Charlie’s just now walking through the kitchen door. And Cale is right behind him.

“Morning loser,” Charlie says as he bumps you into the counter where you were chopping potatoes.

“Charlie, stop messing with your sister. She’s helping me, unlike you.” She gives him a pointed look as he heads back to where Cale is standing, “ morning Cale, how are you?”

“I’m okay, would be better if my truck had started this morning.” Ah so that’s why Charlie was gone.

“Ah yeah Charlie said that’s what happened. Will you be able to figure out what it was?”

You tune out their conversation and continue with your task.

~~~~~~~~

Cale’s POV

When I walked into the kitchen I was not expecting to see a very tired and annoyed looking Y/N. Who definitely just got more annoyed when Charlie bumped her into the counter. Who’s still in her pjs. That have reindeer all over them.

She’s so freaking adorable.

Yesterday I felt like we might’ve gotten a little closer to that friend line. She laughed at most of my horrible jokes when I was cleaning up the kitchen last night. Honestly I cut it pretty close to my curfew. I probably shouldn’t’ve stayed, but Melissa looked tired and as much as I could hope Charlie would’ve helped clean up; I know better than that. So I stayed way later than I should’ve and had to rush home.

Shaking my head I answer Melissa’s questions about my truck. It wouldn’t start this morning. Charlie and I both think between how old it is and the cold front that moved in last night, that my truck might not be starting for a while. He offered to take me to practice and school, so that helps at least.

~~~~~~~~

A couple hours later your mom is at the door welcoming all of the boys in. Between Charlie and Cale helping you and your mom, everything got done so you had extra time to get ready and hide in your room for a bit. At least you can wear something comfy. You have to look nice for pictures so you grabbed a sweater to go with your leggings.

The boys were all really loud and you were kind of over it already. Your mom wanted you downstairs at least. She understood why you didn’t exactly want to be around them. So you were sitting on the kitchen counter; reading a book. The only guys that had sought you out to greet you were John and Tyson. They both gave you a hug and asked how you were before joining the rest of the team in the living room.

You were about halfway through your book when somebody hopped up across from you on the island. Looking up you realise it’s Cale.

“Why are you in here?” It came out a little harsh but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

“They’re getting really loud and I get headaches easily.” Cale shrugs, “I can find somewhere else to hang out if you want me to.”

“No you’re fine, I was just wondering. Why do you get headaches easily?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cale’s POV

When she asked why I was in here I panicked a little. I mean I was mostly in here for the quiet, but also kind of to see her. I don’t even know why. I think she’s just nice to be around. Especially compared to the guys.

“Oh, it’s cause of all of the concussions I’ve gotten in the past.”

“Hmm” that’s all she gives me before going back to her phone.

I feel kind of awkward just looking at her. I’d love to ignore the world and be in my phone, but it’s almost dead, plus it would make my headache worse. It’s quiet in here, not awkward but almost… comforting. Honestly it’s kind of nice. I end up looking out the window above the sink. My eyes catching on the snow flurries outside.

“It’s snowing.”

Y/N looks up from her phone before setting it down on the counter and jumping down. Walking over to the sink, she stares outside.

“I love the snow. It’s so pretty and peaceful.” She sounds wistful as she says it.

I have to fight myself from saying she is too, “Me too, winter is my favorite season because of it.”

“Same here.” She turns around and meets my eyes, “this is off topic but if I’m going to be completely honest would rather be skating than here right now.”

“Well if I had to be completely honest, I’d say the same. Why do you not want to be here?” I have a feeling I know what her answer is going to be.

“I assume Charlie told you all about what happened, I’m also going to assume you’re smart enough to connect those dots,” I nod and she shrugs, “honestly you don’t seem all that bad. I know I came off harsh, Charlie told me all about that. I’m sorry. I am trying to be nicer, especially since you don’t act like an asshole like the rest of them. Just know that, that doesn’t mean we’re friends, just that you’re not a total jerk. Anyways, why don’t you want to be here?”

Her statement relieves me. I’m glad I don’t come across like an asshole. I didn't think I did, but it’s always nice to hear. Especially from someone as biassed as her.

“Well mine’s kind of similar, I don’t really want to hang out with the guys. I Know it’s good for camaraderie and whatever, but they annoy the hell out of me. And they all are in fact a bunch of assholes. Even to teammates. Plus skating is so much more fun than sitting here doing nothing.”

That got a smile out of her. She turned back to the window.

~~~~~~~~~

“Dinner was good as always ma, thanks for inviting the team.” A chorus of the rest of them following Charlie’s thanks.

I ended up seated between Cale and Charlie. I think they did that on purpose. Especially since John and Tyson were across from me too. They totally surrounded me so I didn’t have to sit next to the jerks. I’m totally grateful but I wanna be anywhere but here. I lean over to Charlie.

“Hey you going anywhere later?”

“I’ll probably go hang with the guys but Tys will drive.”

“Okay, I’ll have the car then.” Charlie nods before continuing his conversation.

Now I have to figure out a plan to dip after pictures so I can get to the rink.

~~~~~~~

Cale’s POV

It’s picture time. And nothing against Melissa, but she has no control over any of this. She’s currently standing behind the camera and trying to get us lined up so we all fit. It’s not going well, Charlie is nowhere to be found and Y/N looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Can’t blame her, I’m feeling the same way.

“Hey hey everyone chill out and listen.” There’s Charlie. I can hear him but I can’t see him. He’s still shouting orders when I look back over to Y/N. She sees me, rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Then she walks towards the couch, and steps up so she’s standing on it.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP! I UNDERSTAND NONE OF YOU WANT TO DO THIS CAUSE I SURE AS HELL DONT. BUT THE FASTER EVERYONE LISTENS AND DOES WHAT THEYRE SUPPOSED TO DO AND THE WUICKER YOURE OUT OF HERE AND OFF DOING WHATEVER THE HELL YOU IDIOTS WANT TO DO!”

Every single person in the room turned to look at where she was looking down on all of them. Silently everyone moved where Melissa had originally placed them. Y/N got down from the couch and walked over to where I was standing on the outside of the group.

“I’m glad that worked, I was tired of standing there.”

“Me too, ready to go home and change and do nothing the rest of the day.” I whisper back as I move to tuck in next to John. She moves right next to me so that she’s in the shot too.

“About that, I was planning on heading to the rink after this. I normally would prefer to go alone but you mentioned wanting to skate earlier so…” she kind of trails off and I turn my head to look down at her, “would you want to go with me? Totally cool if not, just thought I’d offer.”

I can feel the smile stretch across my face.

“I would love to go to the rink. I’d have to get my skates from home first though.”

“We can stop on the way to the rink.” She gives me a small smile and I nod.

“Cale! Y/N! Look at the camera please.” We both follow Melissa’s directions and everyone is excited to be released from the pictures from hell.

“Cale?” I turn to see Y/N still next to me, “I’m gonna go talk to my mom then I’m ready when you are.”

“Okay, meet you at the front?” She nods and is gone.

Now I just gotta figure out what to tell Charlie. He invited me to go hang out with him, John, and Tys later. But if so much rather go to the rink. I look around the room before I spot him by his mom and make my way over.

“Hey Charlie I’m gonna head home. Thanks for inviting me to go out but I’m not feeling it today.”

“That’s alright, do you need a ride?”

“Nah I got it figured out.” I kind of hate lying to him. Not that I’m lying technically, but it sure feels like it.

“Alright man. Let me know if you need anything. Have a good night.” He holds his hand out to shake and I do the same.

“Thanks Melissa for dinner. You and Y/N did really good. I had fun.” Not a total lie but not a truth either.

I turn to head to the front door when someone pokes me in the side. I look down and lock eyes with Y/N. Who’s smirking like she just caught someone in the act.

“You’re a liar! You did not have fun.” She whispers to me as we head out together.

“I did have some fun, I wasn’t totally miserable.” We both climb into Charlie and hers shared jeep.

“Uh huh sure. I totally believe you. But did you really like the food?” She looks over at me as she puts the key into the ignition. She looks a little nervous. I wonder why. Then it clicks in my brain. Charlie said something about it being her first time doing the turkey. That makes sense.

“Yeah everything was really good. I liked the turkey a lot.” I give her an affirming nod.

“That’s good, I was a little worried I’d fuck it up somehow. I’ve seen mom do it a million times, but I definitely was not confident in actually doing it myself.” She turns to back out of the driveway then looks at me before she continues.

“I have absolutely no idea where you live.” I laugh a little before directing her to my house.

~~~~~~~~

By the time you pull up to the rink, the sun has disappeared from the sky and there’s only a few other cars in the parking lot. Perfect. You’d have the ice to yourselves mostly. Which is great because you really wanted to work on your triple lutz. It was the hardest move in your program and it showed. You needed it to not show. And if you could get your coach off your ass about it, you definetley wouldn’t be mad.

The moment your blades hit the ice, you feel so much better. The last couple of days have been a lot. Being on the ice just made everything better. You could hear Cale cut through the ice behind you. Pushing yourself off, you started some lazy laps. There was a couple of kids on the ice too, so you kept an eye on them to make sure there was no collisions. Skating over to the corner you made sure the coast was clear before marking your jumps. Starting small at first before making it to the bigger jumps. There was no way you were going to go full out on everything you did tonight, you just had to make sure you were warm before going for the triple. Feeling warm enough, you went for it.

And landed on your ass.

“Fuck.” Starring at the ceiling you went over it in your head. Knowing it was exactly what your coach had said (that you didn’t have enough momentum) you got up, shook it off. And went again. And landed on your ass again. And again. And again.

“You good?” Opening your eyes you saw Cale’s face, right above you. Oh right. You had got in your head and forgot he was there.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking the hand he offered, you pulled yourself up, “I’m gonna go again so you might want to watch out.” Cale wisely backed out of your way. By now all the kids were gone, and it was just the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed off. Up in the air you went. One, two three. Hell yeah. Now you just had to stick it. And you did, kind of. Your hand touched the ground to steady yourself, but it was improvement.

“That was so cool!” Cale looked a little awed. Had he never seen a skating program before? It was kind of cute the way he looked so excited.

“I’ll agree with you there, but I need to work on that landing. I at least got three full turns. I’ve only done that once before.”

“Well I mean that's an improvement right?” You shrug, “I think that calls for a break” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“What were you thinking for this break?”

He doesn’t say anything as he slowly skates towards you, until

“TAG!” He barely touches your arm before he’s off.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you get home after dropping Cale off and taking a shower, you’re exhausted. There’s a smile on your face though.

Before falling asleep you send Cale quick text.

You: I had fun tonight :)

Cale: me too :)

——————————————

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[purplesimmer455]

Iseul then took Cam and Piper to visit Piper’s great grandparents. Iseul was impressed by their house, a large two story modern yet comfy place, and she and Cam stood with Piper as she rung the doorbell. Piper’s auntie Hailey (her grandma Kaitlyn's younger sister) opened the door, and greeted the three of them. She wrapped Piper in a bear hug and asked how she was doing. "Good, thanks, auntie. How are you and uncle Carson?" Hailey smiled. "We're good too, Pipes. " She said. Hailey called over her parents, Piper’s great grandparents and they rushed to greet Piper, Cam, and Iseul.

The group sat together in the living room, and Cam talked with Piper’s tài pó Ava. "I like your hair, Mrs. Rocca-Chen." Cam said, gesturing to Ava's short hair. "Thanks, sweetpea." Ava said, smiling. She pointed at Cam's hair and joked. "Great minds think alike, right?" Cam laughed. "Exactly." She said. "Honestly though, I've always kept it short but as I got older I decided to just cut it shorter and let it go gray. It's cute and low maintenance." Cam nodded. "I get that. I chopped my hair off at 13 when auntie Is took me to her usual barbershop, and it felt nice and more like me so I kept the style since." Ava smiled. "Well, it looks good, I like how choppy it is." She said. Cam grinned and added. "Piper always says that too." Ava grinned as well and added half-teasingly. "I don't doubt it. She talked my and Paolo's ears off about you, and mentioned how she loves your hair, voice, style, arms, jawline. I would bring up how I had to fix the sink, and she brought up how you fix stuff around the house too and that you have your own toolset, and when Paolo brought up his nonna's recipes he learned, Piper brought up that you cook really well too, and so on." Cam blushed. "Oh man. I think I'm the same about Piper with my family as she is with you guys, Mrs. Rocca-Chen." Ava smiled. "I can imagine, being at this stage in a relationship, but it's very sweet and endearing. She talks about you the way Paolo and I talked about each other as teens. Also, call me granna Ava or tài pó if you feel comfortable. You're dating our Pipes, so Paolo and I consider you as part of the family." She said and Cam smiled as they continued to chat.

Meanwhile, Piper talked with her bisnonno, Paolo. He was happy to meet Cam and Iseul, but also wanted to give talk to his great granddaughter. "Fragolina (little strawberry)*, Cameron seems great and I want to give you some advice.” Piper nodded, smiling at the nickname. It was because Piper loved wearing her strawberry dresses as a baby, plus it was her favorite fruit since she was a kid. “Okay, I’m listening.” She said. Paolo smiled too. “I just want to say that you and Cameron shouldn’t rush things too much, enjoy spending time with each other, but also enjoy being your own sims as well. I remember when I started dating your great grandma, I was planning it all out, and things changed when she and I got pregnant with our eldest daughter, your grandma Kaitlyn, in our senior year. It worked out for the best but it made us rethink everything, but despite the challenges of having a baby so young, it was worth it for us.” He paused and smiled. “Sorry honey, I think I over-rambled, but my point is just don’t rush too much, and enjoy the time spent with each other but also remember to still be your own person.” Piper nodded, smiling at Paolo. “I know, thanks bisnonno.” She said and hugged him. He hugged her back and smiled before joking. “You know, you two remind me of so much of Kaitlyn and Maya, Cam has the same confidence and humor and liveliness that Kaitlyn had in her teens.” He added, smiling. “When Kaitlyn first introduced me, Ava, and Hailey to Maya, just by the way they looked at each other and talked to each other, we knew Maya was the one for her. I feel as if Cameron is the same for you, you look at her the same way Kaitlyn looked, and honestly still looks, at Maya, like she’s magic.” Piper blushed. “I know, I feel that way too.” She said.

[theleetoalerandalertoalee]

Day 7 - Flustered

Yun Jin x Xinyan

Sorry if the story is a but choppy, I’ve been having trouble focusing lately aaa

Enjoy!!

“Hey hey, Yun Jin! What’s shakin’?”

Yun Jin looks up from her script, “hm? Xinyan, it’s been a while! What brings you to Lingju Pass? Don’t you have a tour in Natlan in two days?”

“Yup, but I wanted to pay you a visit before I left.”

“Oh,” Yun Jin sets the script aside and sits up to talk to Xinyan, “really? Well…thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Hehe, of course! Say, why don’t we just relax for a bit? Just because I won’t be back till after my tour.”

“Hm, very well. Only for a bit, though.”

“Whoo! Thanks, Yun Jin!”

Yun Jin smiles as Xinyan sets down her guitar and drum to sit next to the opera star.

Yun Jin opens and closes her hands, wincing, “do your hands ever get sore?”

“Hmm, they used to, but after playing the guitar with no pick, my skin has calloused and stuff, so not really anymore.”

“Don’t you have a pick, though?”

“I do, but sometimes during a performance you drop it, but the show’s gotta go on, y’know?”

“Ah, right, of course.”

“So, I mean, why’d you ask? Are you feeling sore?”

“Yeah…I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks to help.”

“Well, a compression glove is great, but we’re quite far away from Liyue, so I can just give you a small massage if you want.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah! You’re my friend!”

“Well- ah, thank you.”

“Of course, here.”

Xinyan takes one of Yun Jin’s hands, “wow, what kind of moisturizer do you use? It’s like your skin has never touched anything ever!”

“Aha, just an anti-blistering thing. It’s like a protective layer for my skin while I’m rehearsing.”

“Wow, cool!”

“Do you want to try it sometime?”

“Thanks, but nah, rock and roll calls for calluses.”

“I see, well, let me know if you ever change your mind.”

“Will do,” Xinyan slowly starts to massage one of Yun Jin’s hands.

Yun Jin’s face blushes and she looks off to the side, trying to focus on the mountain peaks.

“Hey,” Xinyan stops for a moment, “you alright?”

Yun Jin nods, “yes just…hm, sensitive…”

“Ah, I gotcha. I’ll be gentle, then.”

“Thank you.”

Xinyan smiles as she restarts the massage, this time much more carefully and slowly. The massage starts from the tips of Yun Jin’s fingers down to her wrists.

As time went on, the closer to Yun Jin’s wrists the rock star got. It was only a matter of time before-

Yun Jin’s breath hitches and her face goes a brighter shade of pink, “ah-! Um- sorry about that, I- uh…just ignore me.”

“Hm? Is everything alright?”

“Y-yes, perfectly fine.”

Xinyan pauses for a moment before the situation clicks, “ah, hehe, I think I get it.”

“Hm? Do you-?”

Xinyan drags her fingertips across Yun Jin’s wrist and the opera performer giggles softly.

“Aw, you didn’t tell me you had ticklish wrists~! That is adorable, Yun Jin!”

Yun Jin shakes her head as she giggles quietly. Her face was still completely flushed.

Xinyan moves to Yun Jin’s other hand, starting at the fingertips once more.

“So, what is the new script about, if I’m allowed to know, hehe.”

“I would tell you, but I pushed the performance back to when your tour is over. So, I’d like to keep it a surprise.”

“What?! You did that for me?”

“Heh, of course I did. You’re always there for me, so I thought it’d be a way to say thank you. I know you like to watch up close.”

“Of course! I like to get near the action!”

“Well, I’m happy to give you something to look forward to after your tour. I know that after tours you get a bit…sullen.”

“Well, yeah, I like to perform. It gives me a high to be on a stage with all those people all coming together through music- it’s just- it’s beautiful, ain’t it?”

“Yes…it really is.”

Xinyan gets down to Yun Jin’s wrists.

“No need to be embarrassed, Yun Jin! I think it’s cute, hehe.”

“Ah- hahahaha, th-thank you,” Yun Jin says with blushed cheeks.

“Of course! Trust me, if you’re this flustered about it, your secret is safe with me.”

Yun nods gratefully, “thank you so much. I’m very happy to be your friend.”

“I’m happy to be yours, too! How do your hands feel now?”

“Better. Thanks again.”

“Sure.”

“We still have some time before sundown…”

“How about I play you a tune I’ve been working on?”

“I’d like that.”

“Perfect, on four- one, two three, four!”

[kittynomsdeplume]

As payment for all the mental damage I have suffered, I demand a statement on THREE titles: Sacred and Profane - Steampunk AU (Steampunk my beloved <3) Chapel of luuurve (It rings a bell but the title ended me. does Elvis marry people there.) Ali/Cullen/Trev (A WIP? ANOTHER?)

Mental damage?! Emotional damage maybe, hahaha.

This is going to be a rather large post so, I'll put it under the cut.

Chapel of love is a deeply sarcastic title, as it’s going to be quite painful smut. You know I had a thought about that scene, when Cullen is in the Skyhold chapel, feeling very guilty about the fact that he has to send his lover off into danger to face Corypheus. So I want to do a little extension of that scene, just to break my own heart 😆

Here's an excerpt of some rough dialogue I've laid down:

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” “You haven’t. That madman is at fault, not you.” “But if I wasn’t the Herald then—“ “Then you would have died at the Temple. And the rest of us would have swiftly followed, as Corypheus destroyed the world. I have no regrets. The Maker brought you to us when we needed you most. Brought you to me. I have to believe that he will see you safely home again.” He kisses her with a ferocity born of desperation; a need to believe that this is not one of the last chances he may have to do so.

Sacred and Profane, a steampunk AU, took over my brain for an entire six months, but I had sworn to myself that I would not ever again start posting a long-fic before it was finished. Now in my defence, I know Under Her Mask is not finished either, but that wasn't supposed to be a long fic 😬

It is very much the first series I ever sat down and tried to plot out in its entirety, and frankly, it sort of killed my enthusiasm for it. I still really love the setting and some of the ideas in it though, so I am hoping to eventually salvage parts and just release them as part of a broader series. I do genuinely believe I was being far too ambitious.

An excerpt from what was intended to be our introduction to Solas in this fic. He has travelled to a remote island, to seek counsel from some ancient soothsayers, three monstrous sisters. His precious artefact has been stolen and he's in a hurry to find it before something disastrous occurs. He has no love for these hags however, and they really should have heeded all the warnings about treating with the Dread Wolf.

Solas clambers back down the mountain and carefully picks his way over the slippery, algae covered rocks on the shore. Standing upon a low outcrop, he swings the hag heads by their long, matted hair and flings them into the ocean. He snarls out an ironic prayer, “Rest in peace, sisters,” as he watches the heads bob upon the water and then slowly sink beneath the briny waves. He huffs in disdain and frustration, not sure if he should even trust their divination — though two locations to search are better than none he supposes. Decided, Solas dives into the water, cutting through the choppy ocean with ease. The cold has little effect on him, and the creatures that lurk and writhe in the broad, blue depths do not dare approach. He is the last of his kind, the dread god Fen’Harel, and he fears neither man; nor beast; nor monster.

And yeah, I've got a couple of ideas for further follow up fics featuring Kiara, Cullen and Alistair. Post-Adamant stuff essentially, because Alistair will need to be on his merry way to Wiesshaupt, so I figure this is the last chance for them to all be together for quite a while.

Now, while I had originally envisioned more pure smut, you know me -- the angst is creeping in.

A veeeery rough piece of my first draft, immediately following the Inquisitor's return from the Fade at Adamant.

Cullen is ushering her through, a hand pressing against the small of her back. Urgent, needy. Her stomach is fluttering, she wants nothing more than to be safe and secure between him and Ali. “Twinkles,” Varric approaches, looking around the courtyard. “Glad you see you made it back in one piece. Any idea where Hawke got off to?” Her stomach drops. “I um… Varric I…” her mouth works silently, the words refuse to come. Varric’s whole face falls and he staggers back a step. “Hawke kept the demon at bay so we could escape,” Alistair supplies. “Of course she did,” Varric remarks, tight jawed, his expression caught between anger and anguish. “I’m so sorry—” Varric waves away her apology, his chest billowing as he drags in heavy breaths, choking down his pain. “I gotta write to Fenris,” he mutters, stumbling away from them. Emotions bubble up inside her, this terrible wave of guilt and shame. Hawke had people that loved and cared about her too. She wasn’t even a Warden, she’d come here to help because that’s what she did, helping others even when it wasn’t her business.  And she’d just left her behind, hadn’t even given a moments hesitation. Shooting Alistair down when he said it should be him that stayed.  Maker… everyone was looking to her to lead the Inquisition with honour and righteousness, but she was making decisions based on her own selfish desires. She was a self-absorbed, grasping noble after all — just the sort of person Cullen disdained.

[xarrixii]

Chapter_26 : "Home" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: mental health previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

Harlow hung his head over the bathroom sink, head against the mirror. He’d spent all night packing his stuff into a suitcase under the bed. The hard part wasn’t breaking it to his mom, it was breaking it to Gabriel.

He ran the tap, splashing water into his face. He hated leaving Gabriel behind.

But Cinder couldn’t afford this back and forth nonsense.

Raiden couldn’t afford this back and forth nonsense.

He’d locked himself in the bathroom, waiting on Liam to show up. It’s what Liam had said to do, and Harlow wasn’t stupid. It was just the smart thing to do.

Harlow looked up into the mirror, inspecting the bruises Blake had left on his neck after the exam. Some sort of switch had flipped, that much he could say was obvious. Then he zipped up his turtleneck collar. Liam had made the suggestion, and Harlow wasn’t about to show something like that to Gabriel.

He withdrew his contacts from the mirror cupboard, folding his glasses onto the counter. He’d deal with the water stain on them later.

Liam was taking uncomfortably long.

All it gave him was more time to think about Raiden. They were the only reason he was even here right now. The only reason he was anywhere above ground.

And Raiden was gone.

He banged a fist on the mirror, hanging his head down again and taking deep breaths.

It didn’t work.

He set the contact back into the case, knees buckling beneath him. Harlow banged his head on the cabinet below the sink, breathing in short sporadic bursts. Mumbling to himself, You stupid, stupid idiot.

Why did Raiden have to be selfless?

Why couldn’t they just be selfish one time?

Big brother? Gabriel clocked into his head.

Yeah? Harlow responded, trying to contain himself.

Someone’s knocking at the door.

If you don’t recognize them through the peephole, don’t open it.

Okay.

He grabbed onto the counter, slowly pulling himself up and desperately wiping away what had come out from his eyes. Not now, not here.

Harlow took his contacts again, blinking away the irritation several times with a disgruntled sigh. He could hear Liam’s voice enter the apartment through the door.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “Hey, kid, you ready?”

“Just⸺Just a second.”

“Where’d you put your stuff?”

“It’s under the bed, one of the planks holding the mattress should be loose, you’ll find it.”

He looked into the mirror again, rubbing away tear stains. Damn.

Harlow pocketed his glasses and turned to the door, swinging it open to find Gabriel sitting on the kitchen island, kicking his legs.

“Hey, Gabe.”

Gabriel’s gaze looked to their parents’ bedroom door before back on Harlow. He set down the pudding cup he was holding, beginning some albeit choppy sign language. Where are you going?

“Uh…” Harlow cleared his throat, taking out one of the stools and jumping up. “Let’s see if I… remember.”

Away.

Gabriel locked onto Harlow. For how long?

Forever. Harlow frowned, trying to find something to read on Gabriel’s face. I’m going away forever.

Are you dying?

“No, it…” He bit his lip, trying to remember how to sign it. I found a new home.

Gabriel cocked his head. New home?

Yes. Away from here.

Can I come with?

“Gabe,” Harlow started, holding back the urge that overtook him. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. No. I’m sorry.

“Hopefully nothing about me,” Liam exited Harlow’s bedroom holding a suitcase. “That would be rather unfortunate, now wouldn’t it? Say, Gabe, ‘nothin too bad, right?”

Gabriel did nothing for a few seconds, staring down at the floor before grabbing the tablet beside them. The electronic voice popped out just as cheerily as usual, “I’ll leave you guessing.”

“Hey!” Liam said with joking offense. “I’ll have you know that I come from foreign lands far different from yours.”

Gabriel giggled, setting the tablet aside and picked up the pudding again, hopping off the counter.

Liam turned to Harlow. “You’re ready to go?”

“Mm,” he mumbled out, sliding off of the stool.

“Wait.” Gabriel played with the tablet. “Big brother.”

“Yeah?”

“How do I sign your name?”

Harlow paused, mouth going dry. It wasn’t something he’d really thought about. Wasn’t something Gabriel had ever wanted to say, wasn’t something Harlow said often.

Liam fake coughed for both of their attention, crouching down to Gabriel’s eye level and gesturing Gabriel to copy his hand movements, going very slowly. “Laugh low.” Gabriel spelled out Harlow’s name before signing the two words, nodding in comprehension with a smile.

Harlow chuckled lightly, letting Gabriel hug him a final time.

“Har har, Liam. Har har.”

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

woah i posted another chapter new life achievement

[aeoki]

Fist of the Shangri-la Idol - Action Star: Chapter 4

Location: Chinese Restaurant Characters: Touri & Makoto

Touri: (...”Lacking in skill”, huh. That’s something I’m always painfully aware of.)

Makoto: Oh, I’m sorry for complaining…

I’ll have one of these peach buns before they get cold ♪

Touri: …Sure, go ahead. They won’t be that warm since Anzu left a while ago.

Makoto: I bet they’ll still taste delicious. *Munch, munch* I can tell these are full of Anzu-chan’s feelings for us~ Sure brings me back to life ♪

Touri: I’m glad – Anzu will definitely be happy to hear that too.

…I wanna give some to the others too but where the heck are they?

Makoto: Dunno… Like I mentioned before, things are kinda choppy between us right now, so it feels like we don’t have the time to check up on each other.

We haven’t really had much time to even talk… So I guess I wouldn’t know where they’d be and what they’d be doing right now.

Touri: Oh, geez. “Trickstar” is all about being super chummy with each other and chatting about noisily, right? What’re you gonna do if that unique characteristic of yours goes out the window?

The concept for “Fist of the Shangri-la Idol” is to “challenge yourself with something new”.

I don’t think they’re trying to tell you to throw away all the old stuff~ I can’t really explain it.

Makoto: I understand what you’re saying. Destroying the things that already exist randomly is just like bringing forth a disaster, right? It’s not a revolution at all.

Touri: In my eyes, “Trickstar” has always been a disaster that eradicates everything precious, though…

But sometimes, you can even use those disasters to generate electrical power, so we “fine” will just have to make good use of the nuisance that is you guys.

We’ll control you and turn you into a driving force that will make everyone smile.

Makoto: Okay. Hehe… Say, have you been trying to cheer me up this whole time? Were you worried about me and did your best to tell me all those things?

Touri: Wha!? Don’t get the wrong idea! It’s just that “fine” will be in a bad position if “Trickstar” doesn’t do their job properly!

Makoto: Okay. Still, thank you, “Heroine-chan”.

We’re both members of the Tennis Club and we haven’t really had the chance to talk, but I have a feeling I’ll come to like you a lot when I fully understand you.

Touri: Hmph… It’s only in the movie where you, the “protagonist” and me, the “heroine” fall in love, okay?

Don’t get reality and fiction mixed up! No weird ideas!

Makoto: I know~ …But you’re cute, Himemiya-kun, so it’s only natural for that to happen.

Touri: Uuu, don’t call me cute! Are you trying to flirt with me or something!?

Makoto: Not at all.

…I think we’ve all been given reasonable roles, but why was I chosen to be the “protagonist”?

Touri: I wonder if it’s really reasonable… I’m starting to question the role given to Yuzuru. Makes me think there were hidden intentions behind it or something.

Weren’t you chosen to be the protagonist because of that, Yuuki-senpai?

I’m pretty sure there was a proper explanation for it – I think it was because the screenwriter is fond of you. Apparently, you were perfect for the role or something.

The description for the “protagonist” is that he’s usually out of it and unreliable, but he’s amazing when he puts his mind to it…

So wouldn’t you fit that bill pretty well? I dunno, though.

Makoto: That screenwriter was also present at my audition, but they left part way through because they had another appointment elsewhere, right?

Touri: Oh, yeah, they’re super popular. It’s their first time writing a script for a movie and they’re young, but they’re like an expert in other genres, aren’t they?

Makoto: Yeah. Isara-kun was really excited and mentioned they were also the writer for a really popular manga series.

I don’t know much aside from video games, so I can’t tell how amazing they are, though.

Anyway, the screenwriter left halfway through my audition, so they couldn’t have seen my acting…

And they still chose me to play the “protagonist” because I fit the bill despite that.

That’s why I’m not totally convinced after seeing the results of my audition.

I feel like there’s actually something going on behind the scenes and Hidaka-kun was supposed to be the “protagonist”.

It makes me wonder if someone really pushed for me to take that role…

Touri: Ohh… I was one of the judges during the rehearsal version of the audition.

But you were definitely an amateur and there wasn’t anything special about your acting.

I was also taking the audition during the real thing, so I don’t know how yours went.

Makoto: It was pretty much the same during the actual audition. There’s no way I’d improve right away just because I had a rehearsal… I’m not a genius like Akehoshi-kun.

Besides, even if I did do a good job with my acting, it wouldn’t make sense for the screenwriter to choose me as the “protagonist” since they left halfway through my audition.

Logically speaking, that is. That’s why I’m confused…

It feels like I got the role through some sort of misunderstanding and I can’t understand why it was given to me, so I can’t fully immerse myself in my acting.

But that’s just an excuse… They gave me this role and are expecting great things from me and I agreed to it, so I should do my best as a professional.

Even if it means I have to suppress those feelings of uncertainty and kill my emotions.

Touri: ………….

Makoto: ? What’s wrong, Himemiya-kun? Why’re you looking around?

Touri: Oh, uh… We’re not filming inside this Chinese restaurant, so they’re just using it as a storage room today, right?

I’m pretty sure I put it in here.

Makoto: You can’t find your stuff?

Touri: No, they’re in my bag but I can’t find my toothbrush set…

Yuzuru would get angry at me if I didn’t brush my teeth after eating the sweet peach buns. And teeth are important for celebrities.

Hmm, did I forget to bring it with me? But… it feels like I’m also missing other stuff.

Hey, Yuuki-senpai, you were here the entire time. Do you know anything?

Did anyone dig through my bag? Is there some kinda thief about? Did someone break in here?

Makoto: Not sure. I wasn’t confident in my acting, so I was talking with the director somewhere else. I was only here a little bit before you arrived…

……!? Did you hear something just now?

Touri: Y–Yeah. There are some sounds coming from behind the kitchen… Is it a stray dog or something?

Makoto: I dunno why we see them a lot at Yumenosaki, but stray dogs usually wouldn’t be in the city like this…

Whaa!?

Touri: S–Someone jumped out from the kitchen! He’s dressed all in black! What the–!? Who’re you? I’m scaredddd…!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[havin-a-wee]

could u ever do a smutty one where h and y/n had a fling in the best or are just each others occasional hook ups but when h has a date y/n gets like really upset and he finds out so he makes it up to her and confesses his feelings saying stuff like „y're my best girl, y'know that petal?“🥺👉🏻👈🏻 love ur writing beyond words, have an amazing day :))))

Date Night

warnings: unprotected sex

word count: 1.6k

to whoever sent in this ask im so so so sorry it literally took me like two months to answer it i feel so bad but i like how it turned out so i hope this makes up for it!

You shouldn’t be crying. You really shouldn’t. Yet tears are spilling down your face as you break down in choppy sobs, your chest heaving and your cheeks hot.

You have no right to be jealous, and you know that. You and Harry are only friends with benefits, and nothing else. He is allowed to be on a date right now, and it’s not his fault that you’ve managed to fall in love with him throughout the course of your relationship. You met through a mutual friend, began hanging out and then later started hooking up. And while he sees you as his best friend who he just happens to fuck sometimes, you see him as so much more. And you wish that maybe it could be different between you. That maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and if you just told him how you feel he’d tell you he feels the same way.

But as far as you know, there is no chance of that happening. Especially considering the fact that he’s currently at a restaurant with some hot blonde girl he met last week.

Your thoughts are put to a halt when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see none other than Harry himself calling. And as much as you want to decline the call, Harry would never decline yours no matter what, so with a hefty sigh you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi”

“Hey petal, the date was a bust, all she wanted t’talk about was m’money.” Harry laughs weakly over the phone, and you smile at the news that it didn’t work out. You shouldn’t be happy about it, and it does make you feel guilty because Harry deserves happiness. You just wish he could find that happiness with you.

Lost in your own train of thought, you forget that you’re supposed to be suppressing your tears. Another salty droplet rolls down your cheek and your sniffle.

Suddenly, Harry begins talking again, and that’s when you realize your mistake. “Petal? Y’okay? Sounds like y’crying.” His voice immediately switches from joking to sympathetic and worried, and you can imagine how he looks right now, creased forehead and wide eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You wipe the tear off your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, clearing your throat to try and hide the sound of your throat that's sore from crying.

“No y’not y/n, I know what y’crying sounds like. M’already going in the direction of y’house so m’coming over and staying till’ y’tell me what's wrong.”

The tone of his voice tells you there’s no changing his mind, so you sigh and murmur an “okay” before hanging up the phone.

It took about five minutes for Harry to knock on the door. During that time, you went into your bathroom and attempted to hide the red, puffy skin that had overtaken your cheeks. It didn’t really work, and you were still trying to hide it when you heard him knock. So with a disappointed sigh, you slump over to the door and open it.

Harry steps in quickly, placing his coat on a hanger and then turning back to you.

“What’s wrong pet, hmm?” He places his ringed hand on your cheek, thumb running over the skin that's been reddened from your tears.

And despite the years you’ve spent hiding your feelings, despite the hours you’ve had to listen to Harry retell stories about his hookups, despite the yearning you’ve felt for your best friend since you met him, this was your breaking point. Tear after tear after tear. They flow uncontrollably down your face and all you can manage to do is look up at Harry. He pulls you into him, placing one hand behind your head and one around your waist.

And you just cry into Harry’s shoulder.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but Harry eventually brings you couch, and as soon as he sits you both down you curl up into his warm chest.

“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Y’don’t ‘ave to, just hate seeing yeh cry.”

Finally, you pick up your head from where it’s tucked into his torso.

It might be the daze you’re in from the emotions swirling through your head. It might be the glass of wine you downed earlier to help drown out the feeling of jealousy. It might be all the pent up frustration from years of pining for someone you could never have. Or it might have been none of those things. Whatever it was, there was something inside of you that snapped. Like a damn collapsing and letting the water topple over and flood everything. The barrier you spent so long building broke in two, allowing all of those emotions to spill out.

“I love you Harry.” His eyes snapped open, and his mouth moved to speak, but you cut him off. “And not just as a friend. I’ve always loved you, and I know that if you don’t feel the same way, things will be awkward, but I don’t care anymore. Seeing you excited to go out with another girl hurt, because all I’ve wanted for so long was for that girl to be me.”

He stares at you. There was a second where you debated getting up and running out of the house, afraid of what his response would be. But just before you could put that plan into action, his lips collided with yours.

Your mouth meld perfectly, soft lips biting and nipping at each other. His tongue slips past your parted lips and twirls around your own. You’re breathless by the time he disconnects, the feeling that you had been longing for sent your mind spinning.

“Y’don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he pants, green irises staring deeply into yours. Without another word, you lean in and kiss him again, this time with more vigor than before. Much to your dismay, he separates the two of you again, however he keeps his arms tangled around your body and holds you close.

“Y're my best girl, y'know that petal? None of those silly girls could ever replace you.”

As your lips touch for the third time, it’s clear that both of you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. You savor the feeling, taking short moments to pause and soak in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Slowly, his hand creeps down the small of your back, but you can tell he’s hesitant to move it down further. But you want this, so you remove the hand that’s stroking his hair and place it on his, moving his hand down to your ass manually. He pulls his lips away, looking into your eyes for a sign of confirmation. You realize what he’s looking for, so you nod vigorously in response.

Quickly, he lifts himself off the couch, placing you on your back and positioning himself on top of you.

“H- please, I want you to make love to me,” you whine. His expression fills with hunger and he reaches to unbutton his jeans, shimmying them off quickly and tossing them to the ground. You can see the bulge pressed up against his boxers, and you reach out to palm him through the thin material.

“Fuck petal, y’gonna be the death o’me, y’know that?”

Harry dives into kiss you, using one of his hands to pull down your soft pajama shorts along with your panties. “Harry-”

“I gotchu petal, I gotchu, don’t worry.”

You assist him in pulling off his boxers, his large erection springing out. He’s huge, but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. The precome on his tip is calling for you to lick it, but you just want him to be inside of you, so you make a mental note to do that sometime soon. He grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. “M’gonna go slow alright?”

You hum your approval, and he responds by pushing the head inside your tight, soaking hole. Even with just an inch inside, you know it’s going to be a stretch, so you take a deep breath and hold onto his shoulders.

Inch by inch, he pushes himself inside of you. Harry stills for a minute, sensing the discomfort in your demeanor. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the pain to subside and the pleasure to kick in, and soon enough you are moaning out for him to move.

He takes your instructions swiftly, pulling almost all the way out of you until quickly thrusting himself fully back in. “Fuck!”

Your cries are muffled when he leans down to kiss you, his hips continuing to rock as he pushes his length into you.

The air is hot, filled with moans and the smell of sex. You haven’t ever felt this good in your life, especially when he thrusts in extra deep and hits that special spot inside of you. “Harry- god,”

“Sweet girl, am I makin’ yeh feel good?”

“Mhm..”

“Tell me petal, who makes y’feel like this?”

“Harry! Only Harry,”

“Good girl.”

He slams into you, speeding up his thrusts and colliding his hips with yours. Both of you are groaning messes, caught up in the moment and unable to form any coherent sentences. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you know you’re close too by the way your stomach and pussy are clenching. He can feel it too, hitting deeper inside of you to bring you to your climax.

“God Y/N, I love you so fuckin much.”

That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down, coursing through your body with strength and fervor. The feeling of you squeezing as you came sent Harry over the edge, his milky cum shooting into your pussy and covering the soft walls.

You don’t know if this means you’re dating or not, or where his head is at. All you know is that you love him, and he loves you. And that’s enough for you.

[rainbowstrashpile]

How did Guillermo get his stuff back from Celeste’s? My idea is that it goes a little something like this:

The evening is still early when Nandor’s sensitive vampire hearing catches the sound of knocking at the front door. Guillermo is here, and it is once again his duty to answer it for them. No more feeble Benji fumbling with the sticky latch, groaning and mumbling as he tries to dislodge it from the jamb. He hears the door creak open easily, followed by a clearly excited Guillermo shouting, “Aw, Sam! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Immediately Nandor’s mood turns sour. Who the fuck is Sam, he thinks angrily. Some other new vampire, come to grab his familiar away again? After all of the humiliating pleading and promising he’d had to do to get him to return? Absolutely not! He will not allow it! Nandor turns into a mist and creeps along the floor into one of the rooms adjacent to the front hall, reforming into a human and peeping his head around the corner to get a look at this Sam. “Is that my stuff from Celeste’s?! How did you even get this?” Guillermo’s delighted voice rings out.

Sickly rage roils in his gut. He went to all that trouble to get Guillermo, his Guillermo, back from the greedy clutches of Celeste only for someone else to come immediately knocking on his door, trying to sway his familiar into their unholy grasp. He’s going to need his head ripping gloves for this Sam.

Only, he can’t see anyone but Guillermo at the door. Very strange. Perhaps this Sam is particularly short? Oh shit is this ghosts again? Because he really doesn’t want to deal with that. Especially after the disappointment of not receiving any updog after the fact. Colin had had to sit him down and explain the joke, sapping his energy the whole time. It was very humiliating.

In any case, he is still just looking at Guillermo’s back. Granted, there are certainly worse views to be staring at. His familiar is gifted with a particularly voluptuous derriere. Seriously, that thing is like a shelf. You could safely set a few curios on it.

Nandor’s lips thin as he watches Guillermo bend over to retrieve something. Probably his things from Celeste’s harem of stolen familiars. It’s to his utter astonishment that, when he stands up straight, he is holding a little kitty cat! Nandor’s anger dissipates instantly. He strides out of the side room, stealthy head ripping mission instantly forgotten.

“Guillermo! Who is this cute little kitty cat!” he coos, watching as the kitty rubs its gray and white head under Guillermo’s chin, purring loudly. 

Guillermo’s tender hand rubs it gently behind the ears, his thumb curling around to stroke its fluffy cheek. “This is my friend Sam. He brought my things back from Celeste’s place.”

He won’t admit it, but Nandor is relieved to learn that Sam is only a very nice little kitty. Cats are renowned familiars, and never once have they been known to poach from other masters. He reaches a hand out to give the kitty a scratch. He looks very cute and extremely soft. But before he can lay a finger on its fur, it hisses at him, mouth full of needle sharp teeth on display and little triangle ears folded back angrily. One paw even stretches out to scratch at him, sharp claws fully extended.

“Woah, Sam! What the hell!” Guillermo yells, pulling the cat back from its place nestled in his arm. 

(here’s where I let it get choppy sorry)

*goes outside*

“I know I did a lot of shit talking about him with you back at Celeste’s. But he was very apologetic and we managed to negotiate some things. I get breaks and a day off now here.”

Meowing

“Yeah, he said some really nice things. He said I was a great familiar and he promised he’d turn me into a vampire.”

Meowing

“He said he couldn't say when but…I don’t know. It’s complicated. There are a lot of factors at play.”

Hissing meowing 

“I know. It’s not like I’ve got my hopes that high. I’ll see you around, okay?”

__________________________________________________

Sorry it gets choppy after that. It’s a draft for ch10 of It’s a Terrible Habit. I like the idea that Guillermo and Sam are besties, and when Nandor and Guillermo get engaged Sam does his best to give Nandor the shovel talk. It turns out that if he hurts Guillermo’s feelings again Sam will piss in his boots every day until he apologizes.