#it would be makin sure my two characters are deeply

[satorena]

what's an aspect of your writing that you take pride in?

that’s deep… next question

[hallowxiu]

Human Realm Delicacy

word count: 2.1k

summary: A thought pops into your head, and suddenly you have the urge to give the characters your favorite human world food.

a/n: this is pretty much just crack, but i got this idea in my head some time last week and i needed to write it lol

mc is gender neutral btw 

“Please?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Your cooking is horrific.” Alright, he sure isn’t holding back his thoughts today, you find yourself thinking.

“But it’s a human delicacy!” You stomp your foot on the ground, hands planted on your hips as you stubbornly stare up at the eldest demon. “Let me cook it for you! It’s all the rave with the humans! They love it! I bet Luke and Lord Diavolo would enjoy it too.” Maybe not Barbatos, but you decide to keep that to yourself. Lucifer’s looking at you with a look full of doubt.

“If you give Lord Diavolo food poisoning, I will make sure that I end your entire bloodline.”

“Deal!”

Lucifer sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t make deals so easily with demons.” He chides lightly. “And there was nothing to make a deal on, we didn’t agree to anything.”

“We did!” You immediately argue back. “I agreed to make a dish from the human realm and you agreed to end my entire bloodline if I poison Lord Diavolo.” Lucifer’s eye is twitching in annoyance but he decides to lay the matter to rest. He knew you could be just as stubborn, if not more stubborn, than his brothers and talking you out of your idea would be nearly impossible, even if he did bring up punishment methods in an attempt to intimidate you. You watch in triumph as Lucifer turns and walks away, muttering colorful words under his breath.

👽👽👽

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered all of you here today.” You’re talking to an empty room. “Well, don’t worry! The answer is staring you right in your face.” It’s really a shame that no one can see the smug look of confidence on your face. You were also in your pajamas at the dining room table. That alone would earn you a scolding from Lucifer or Satan.

You were currently practicing the reveal of your… delicacy , to the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. Although you could have spent this time preparing your dish, you thought presentation was also an essential part to a good meal. You were convinced none of them, with the exception of maybe Solomon, had tried this dish before, so you needed it to be perfect.

“What’s happening?” Beelzebub asks as he walks into the kitchen, opening the fridge to rummage for food. “Who are you talking to?” You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment and freeze in place. Maybe if you stay still long enough he’ll forget you’re there. A few seconds of silence pass and just as you’re starting to think you got lucky, Beelzebub walks up beside you, staring at the empty table as he snacks on some food. “Are you feeling okay?” He looks over at you with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t see anyone at the table.”

You close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking up at the red headed demon. “I’m practicing my presentation skills.” There wasn’t a point in lying, not after getting caught talking to yourself. You feel a sheepish smile form on your lips as you rock on the heels of your feet. You figured that out of all the demons you lived with, having Beelzebub be the one to walk in on you was for the best. You’re pretty sure Lucifer or Satan would have immediately lectured you on lack of sleep, and you think you’d get questioning glances from everyone else. “Lucifer probably told everyone by now, but I plan on cooking everyone a human dish and I want the presentation for it to be perfect. It enhances the experience, after all.” You nod firmly to yourself as if to confirm your own words.

“He did tell us.” There’s a look of excitement on his face and his stomach begins to growl at the mere thought of whatever dish you’d be cooking up for them. “I’m excited. It’s a special treat when you’re able to cook for us.”

You look up at him with a quizzical look. “Really? Because Lucifer said my cooking was, quote on quote, horrific.” He shrugs his shoulders in response before turning around and walking back to the fridge.

“It’s still better than Solomon’s though.”

👽👽👽

You scan the aisles of the market as you push your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the shelves for your special ingredients. You didn’t need a ton of ingredients, but maybe the brothers and other guests would appreciate some side dishes. At least, you knew Beelzebub would anyway. “How long do ya have to take? I have plenty of other things I could be doin’ right now!” You turn around to look at Mammon sulking behind you, hands buried deep in his pockets as he looks around with an uninterested expression.

“I didn’t invite you.” You gently remind the second eldest. “You invited yourself, insisting that I, a human, need guiding in the human realm.” You see a blush tint his cheeks and you chuckle to yourself quietly. “You can always head back if you want. I know my way around.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me? Lucifer would have my head on a stick if I left ya wandering around on your own.” The demon grumbles under his breath and catches up with you so that he’s walking by your side. “What do ya even plan on makin’ anyway?” He looks down into the almost empty shopping cart. “There’s not much in there. Ya couldn’t have found this stuff back home?”

“Nope!” Is your response as you continue to push the cart. “I mean, the Devildom might have something similar to what I’m making, but it wouldn’t be the same. You need the authentic human dish.” You send a wink in his direction, the white haired boy blushing and looking away from you, grumbling under his breath once again. You glance down at the several bags of frozen food in your cart, your lips pressed into a thin line as you think to yourself. You really only needed one bag as your dish didn’t require a lot of ingredients, but with Beelzebub to count for, you would need to double what you were making. Other than that, you were pretty sure you were done shopping for the day. “Honestly, I think we’re done.”

Mammon perks up at this, leaning into your side as he gazes down into the cart. “It looks… interestin’. Is this really enough for everyone?” He picks up the bag of frozen food, shaking it in his hands slightly. “It sounds… small. Is Lucifer going to be okay with this? Looks greasy.”

You snatch the bag from his hands, putting it back into the shopping cart. “As long as I don’t accidentally poison Lord Diavolo I won’t get into any trouble. He can dislike the food all he wants.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. “I’m sure at least Luke and Beelzebub will enjoy them. I think Belphegor might like it too; oh- Leviathan will definitely enjoy them. I’d be surprised if he didn’t already try them before.” You snap your fingers at the thought of the third eldest. You were feeling more and more confident by the minute.

“How do ya make them?” Mammon asks with peaked interest as you two make your way to the express check out.

“Uh, you can just shove them in the oven or microwave, maybe a toaster oven.”

“And it doesn’t take long to make?”

“Not really. It’s pretty simple.”

“I like this already.” Mammon says with a toothy grin.

👽👽👽

You stand at the end of the table proudly, gazing at everyone’s plates while everyone looks at you curiously. “So? What do you think?” Your hands are on your hips as you look on with a grin. “Smells good, right?” Solomon has his face buried in his hands and Leviathan’s looking at you in amusement. “Hey, come on! Don’t be shy; I slaved away making these!”

“Slaved away? Ya just popped these in the oven and called it a day.” Mammon snorts as he pushes the food around on his plate with a finger. “They’re too hot! I’m gonna burn my tongue, human!”

“Then blow on it! It’s part of the experience anyway.” You mutter under your breath, an annoyed expression on your face.

“Burning your tongue is part of the experience?” This time it’s Lord Diavolo who speaks, looking down at the food curiously. “Humans never fail to amaze me! You guys are so funny.”

“What’s it called?” Simeon asks as he looks at you from where he’s sitting. “They’re so tiny and cute. Heat packets.”

“Are you asking if they’re called heat packets or are you describing them as heat packets?” Luke asks the other angel with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re called pizza rolls.” Solomon responds with a distraught look on his face, Leviathan snickering as he nods his head in agreement with Solomon.

“They’re little pockets of death, but they’re delicious.” Leviathan says before popping one into his mouth. “Your mouth goes numb after a while, so the burning doesn’t hurt anymore. That is, if you can’t wait for them to cool off, anyway.” He comments while he watches Beelzebub down the entire plate of pizza rolls.

“They’re too small.” The redhead complains. “But I like how they taste. Like pizza, but small and round.”

“You just described what they’re called.” Belphegor snorts while pushing his plate towards his twin, the brother happily accepting the offer.

“It’s too greasy. It’s terrible for my skin!” Asmodeus has a look of disgust on his face as he pushes his plate towards Beelzebub as well. “And since you didn’t technically make them, I don’t feel bad about saying that.” You roll your eyes from the blond’s comment, though you weren’t surprised by this outcome. You figured he wouldn’t like it due to the grease. You look over at Satan who seems to share the same opinions as his younger brother. A sudden gasp and pained moan grabs your attention, your gaze landing on Mammon.

“It- it fuckin’- it’s so hot!” He’s fanning at his mouth as tears form at the corners of his eyes, the demon trying to cool off his mouth.

“LMAO! You look like such a normie!” Leviathan cackles as he pulls out his D.D.D, more than likely updating one of his social media accounts on the incident. “You need to finish chewing it if you want it to stop burning! You need to swallow the food!” Mammon shoves the plate of food away from him hastily as he jerks out of his seat, grabbing his cup and chugging down the water.

“Well, you definitely provided us with free entertainment.” Asmodeus giggles as he looks over at you with a wink. You huff and plop yourself down in one of the empty seats, pushing at the pizza rolls that sit on your plate. You were hoping this would’ve been more of a success, but at least Beelzebub seemed to enjoy the food.

“I think they’re great!” Luke says enthusiastically, and you’re wondering if the small angel sensed you were feeling a little down about the outcome. Regardless, you couldn’t deny how cute the boy looked as he happily ate the food in front of him, his feet swinging from his chair.

“I also think it’s quite interesting.” Lord Diavolo says with a wide smile, half his plate empty. Interesting doesn’t quite mean good, you think to yourself as you lean back in your chair. Someone clearing their throat makes you look back over at the demon who’s sitting across from you. Lucifer looks unimpressed, but you notice that his plate is cleaned off.

“Did you like them, Lucifer?” You ask and lean forward, a smile on your lips as you inspect his plate.

“It was greasy.” Is all he comments, laying his napkin down on the table. You look around the table, mentally noting that besides Lucifer, only Beelzebub finished his plate completely while the others were still working on it (with the exception of Belphie, who fed his to Beel, and Asmodeus and Satan who were not amused, and Mammon who was downing as much water as he could). You think that’s a good sign, but you’re not sure.

“I’m just glad you finished it.” You say and lean back in your seat. “My cooking isn’t that bad after all, right Lucifer?”

“Shoving food in an oven doesn’t count as cooking.” The man snorts as he gets up from his seat. “But since you’re so keen on being today’s chief, you won’t mind cleaning up all the dishes then, right?” There’s a playful smirk on his lips, but one that tells you not to argue with him. So much for wowing everyone with your human realm delicacy.

[jackalopesao3]

Hello! Can you write headcanons with the boys with a male significant other? If not, that’s totally chill! Just,,,, Theres a lack of male MC content out there :P

Hello, hello!

So back when I first started playing, I thought MC was male. The only otome game I had seriously played before this was MLQC. Then I realized they left MC's gender up to the player, which I thought was super cool! We definitely need more male MC content! I'm always happy to write HCs for any gender MC! 😊

⭐️In general, I believe that gender doesn't really matter to demons. I view all the characters as bi/pan on some level. So this'll be more of how they are with an S/O in general but I will add specifics for a male MC!⭐️

Obey Me Men With Male MC S/O HCs

Lucifer

Wouldn't treat MC much differently than if they were another gender. Lucifer likes to lead in the relationship, he's just naturally used to leading from taking care of his younger brothers. Will definitely pick male MC up and carry him bridal style to his room when he wants alone time with him. He prefers being the big spoon but if MC insists, he'll occasionally be the little spoon. In general, Lucifer isn't too touchy-feely in public but he likes to hold MC's hand or offer MC his arm. He likes to be the caregiver in the relationship but when he's exhausted he doesn't mind letting MC pamper him. Lucifer likes taking MC out on dates, he's proud of MC and proud to be MC's partner. Lucifer will always insists on paying unless MC wants to treat him on a special occasion like his birthday. He definitely makes sure to allow room for MC in his schedule every day. They'll at least be able to spend time together at bed time if his workload is heavy. Lucifer couldn't be happier. His life got so much brighter when MC came into it.

Mammon

Mammon constantly blushing around MC. He likes being the little spoon, especially when MC pats his head. He's a bit clingy and will hold onto MC's arm when they're out in public but turns red the moment anyone mentions anything about it. "I'm just makin' sure the human doesn't get lost!" He loved when MC kisses his cheek or the top of his head. He'll pretend he doesn't but his blush always betrays him. He likes leaning on MC's shoulder when they're sitting together. Mammon also loves showing MC off. He knows the right kind of clothes and accessories to make MC shine. Mammon is happy to spend his money on MC and loves when MC shows off anything he's gifted him. He likes going on dates when he's not broke and feels bad when MC offers to pay. Mammon will actually work to earn money for their dates without complaint. He just wants to see MC happy even though MC is happy just spending time with him, no matter what they're doing. He's definitely protective of MC if another demon gets too close. "Hey! This is my human! Ya hear? Step away from him!"

Leviathan

Levi would have never thought that MC returned his feelings. He was too shy to make the first move so he was elated and relieved when MC asked him out. Like Mammon, he is definitely a bashful boy. He's too shy to initiate hand-holding so MC will have to take the lead on that. Mostly, Levi is the little spoon as he feels safe and secure in MC's arms. They don't always sleep in the bathtub together, sometimes they will sleep in MC's bed so they can cuddle better. If MC wants to be held, he will pull MC close and tell him why he's his Henry. Leviathan will also try to convince MC to cosplay with him. Levi thought he'd be a loner forever until he found MC and he makes sure to let MC know that he is loved. It will take MC a few times to convince Leviathan that yes, this is real and that yes, he is in love with him.

Satan

Satan isn't shy about what he wants. He makes the first move. Satan likes to be the big spoon. He's also the one to initiate affection with MC when in public. He likes lacing their fingers together or placing his hand on MC's arm. He blushes just a tiny bit but that's it. He's a gentleman, always holding the door open or pulling the chair out for him. He likes when MC reciprocates those actions too. Satan and MC often read together in comfortable silence. They'll sit on the same couch or on Satan's bed and just cuddle and read. If MC is a fan of poetry, Satan will occasionally whisper romantic poems in MC's ear. He loves seeing his ears turning red as he recites a verse or two of MC's favorite poem.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus is mostly little spoon energy but sometimes big spoon energy depending on the needs of his s/o. He's very adaptable to MC's needs. Asmo has been with many lovers so he treats a male MC like he would any relationship. He loves PDA. No matter how big MC may be, Asmo will insist MC sit on his lap from time to time. Asmo also likes sitting on MC's lap. Anytime is a good time for cuddling. Hanging out in MC's room? Movie night? During class? During Lucifer's lectures? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Asmo will shower MC with compliments and small gifts. If MC likes his cologne, he'll be sure to pick him up a bottle next time he's out. MC is the most beautiful being his ever seen and he won't hesitate to let him know that. "MC, you're beautiful in many ways. I love you. Let me show you how much, hon."

Beelzebub

The way to Beel's heart is through his stomach. And you love his brothers! Beel can be a bit bashful around MC. He shows affection through what he knows, food. Beel constantly worries if his S/O is eating well and often brings him snacks throughout the day. This boi gives good hugs. MC fits so perfectly in his arms. Beel is also gentle with MC, even if they are bigger than he is. Beel is a strong boi and is mindful of his strengths. When asked, Beel will gladly carry MC anywhere. He likes carrying MC bridal style or on his back. When MC reaches up and cups his cheek he blushes. Beel and MC are often seen together. He's a bit shy with affection at first but will start by placing his hand over MC's or gently putting an arm around MC. At night, he will be the big spoon and pull MC close, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Belphegor

Belphie is in love with MC and confesses his feelings first. He's surprised when MC reciprocates but thrilled. He deeply admires MC for his kindness and how he forgave Belphie. Belphie strongly believes MC is too pure and perfect for any of the three realms. Belphie is a good boyfriend. He's attentive to his S/O's needs and can often pick up on what MC needs without MC telling him. Belphie is a little clingy but only because he loves MC so much. He won't hesitate to take his and and lace their fingers together or take MC's arm when they walk together. He likes to make MC blush too. When he blushes Belphie lets out a soft, fond laugh. "You're too cute for your own good, MC," he'll say while cupping MC's cheek and leaning in for a kiss. Belphie likes pulling him close for a kiss or a hug no matter where the two of them are. He also loves resting his head in MC's lap while he naps. He loves MC's fingers running through his hair as he rests. Belphie can either be big or little spoon. He's attached to MC when the two of them sleep together. He normally wraps his arms and legs around him. He finds himself sleeping a lot easier when MC's by his side.

[raindropsduringthesunset]

Bubble Baths and Sweet Snacks (TSS Fateful Fae AU)

Ao3 ~~~ Wattpad

First Part, Last Part, Next Part

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, Logan, Roman, Remus

Relationships: Moxiety (Platonic), Moxiety (Eventual Romantic), LAMPDR (Background, Platonic)

TW: Mention of Past Injury, Scars, Brief Implications of Pain, Panic, Knives, Violence (Playful),

cw: Bathing Together, Possessiveness, Fire, Food, Remus (Sympathetic- Mentioned), Janus (Sympathetic), Patton (Sympathetic), Crying (Brief), Embarrassment (Brief), Cursing

Enjoy!

~~~

Patton maybe shouldn’t care for a mortal so much. He didn’t even have dibs on him- J had called it far earlier than any of them, whether he’d admit it or not. It was clear he’d claimed V after they had first met. Now that Patton had taken the time- though he genuinely could say it felt more like it was gifted to them- to learn more about the mortal, he fully understood.

V was just too precious. Though he tried to act tough and walled off, his walls seemed to crumble at the smallest expression of affection. Trained stale looks quickly melted away into soft expressions when Patton ruffled his hair or rubbed his back while passing by. A simple praise seemed enough to make him weak at the knees.

Patton definitely didn’t underestimate V’s ability though. V could take care of himself- as he’d expressed constantly at the endless care that the chorus of fae had to give. V would cook on his own in the dead of night, go foraging, go on walks. Even when V had first arrived, he was fierce and careful to read deeply into what others were saying, searching for hidden meanings behind words that they would say. It took weeks for V to finally allow the others to be gentle with him- a little longer for him to allow the Duke to come anywhere near him.

Duke whined about it every day when he’d find V sitting by one of the others or sharing a tender moment. His whining only earned him a smack upside the head by J and a hearty laugh from Princey.

Patton learned quickly and took note of everything V enjoyed. His favorite drink was a hot chocolate with a small amount of spiced rum. His favorite food was pasta with just a ladle worth of sweet tomato sauce. His favorite smell was lavender and vanilla with just a hint of juniper.

Patton adored how particular V was and was always determined to find out more of his favorite things, find out what he loved, find out what he hated; the faeries actually shared a list of things that V hated as a precaution- none of them wished to make him unhappy. And how could they?

V was their everything. The fun they’d been searching for hundreds of years. The random factor, a common cause for them to come together. The final piece that they always felt was missing but just couldn’t find until now. They would recreate reality just for him; rewrite every story, spin and weave the world until it was perfect for V.

V was theirs and Patton was eternally grateful to the universe for it.

Timeskip

V sighed happily, pushing his head against Patton's hands and he lathered V’s hair. Fingers scratched pleasantly against his scalp as he was washed. His eyes had fallen shut a long time ago, his long lashes fluttering every few moments. Patton smiled gently at the mortal, warmth filling his chest as the boy practically melted under his touch.

“Do you like that little one?” Patton hummed, chuckling slightly when V sighed blearily back and leaned more and more against his hands and the tub. White suds shimmered from the candlelight nearby, the warm glow of the fire making V’s skin glow.

“Lean your head back a bit kiddo, I don’t want to irritate your eyes.” Patton warned, muttering a soft praise when he tilted his head. The fae frowned at the sight of bruises covering V’s neck. Words caught in his throat; it pained him to ignore the possibility that V was in danger, but he also tried so hard to rationalize it. Before he could get too deep into his own head, he realized that V was looking up at him through cloudy eyes.

“Are you tired, little one?” V nodded absentmindedly, blinking slowly with a sleepy smile across his face. Patton ran a hand through his hair and rested another hand on his back, gently leading him to lay back in the water so that he could wash out the soap.

V hummed happily at the feeling of warm water against his scalp and Patton's hands in his hair. Patton scratched the place behind his ear carefully, holding back a cooing sound when V closed his eyes again and leaned into the touch.

“You only have to do this, then you can do whatever you want. Oh! L told me to tell you that you should go stargazing with him tonight. You don't have to if you don't want to though,” Patton pushed some soap away from V’s forehead, “We understand if you’re tired.” V whined sadly when Patton pushed him out of the water.

“Hold on kiddo,” Patton laughed, keeping a hand on his back, “I need to wash you.” V’s eyes opened abruptly, making Patton freeze. A panicked sheen made his eyes shine as he began to bring his hands up to cover his body.

“Would you be more comfortable if I left the room while you washed and I just did your back?” He asked, rubbing his back slowly. V shook his head and stared off for a moment. He brought his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, leaning over to let Patton see his back.

Patton grimaced at the sight of scarring down V’s lower back. Scratching and rashes rested on his hip bone. V winced as Patton poured water down his back and gently rubbed the spots that were still scarring over, cleaning wounds from while muttering little apologies under his breath. Patton froze as V sucked in a sharp breath, freezing where he was sitting.

“Kiddo?” He asked cautiously. V shivered and rubbed at his arms. Patton frowned and ran a hand through V’s hair.

“Does it hurt? Are you cold?” He didn’t respond. Patton let out a sigh and took one of his hands.

“Little one, you have to tell me if it hurts okay? I don’t want you hurting. And if it’s too cold I can heat up the water.” V pursed his lips.

“Doesn’t that take time though?”

“V, sweetheart, I’m a fae. Heating up water is possible in a blink of an eye. I promise it’s fine with me.” Patton rubbed gently at V’s shoulder. “... Yeah, it’s cold. It’s makin’ ‘m sting,” V mumbled, looking away. Patton nodded and dipped a hand in the water stirring with small shimmers of his magic swimming past the bubbles until V nodded that the temperature was good. Carefully, Patton went back to cleaning V’s shoulders.

Patton scratched gently at his back, the pit in his stomach fading away as V began to relax again. Soap gathered and covered his back, the potent smell of lavender filling the small room. V slumped forward slightly, bringing his shoulders up to help Patton reach more.

Gods, Patton loved this boy. He honestly couldn’t tell if he loved him romantically or platonically at this point, but it didn’t really matter to him. The point was that he would tear the world apart for the boy in front of him. He could do no wrong, say no wrong. Patton would barely hesitate to say he was a gift from the gods themselves.

Oh dear, Patton really had fallen far for him. J had warned him and he hadn’t listened. Though, looking at the way V’s eyes closed gently at the feeling of warm hands on his back… He couldn't say he was mad about it.

Timeskip

“Do you know where V is?” Patton asked L the next day.

“Unfortunately I do not. He did not join me last night for stargazing. I imagine he is in his room.” L said, not looking up from his book. Patton frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

“V wasn’t in his room when I checked in on him this morning.”

“Could he possibly be on a morning stroll?”

“After a bath?”

“Hm,” L closed his book, pursing his lips, “Maybe check on the Prince. I overheard that he was planning to spend a day with V sometime.” Patton sighed and looked to the side. He really wanted to spend the day baking with V. L stared blankly at Patton before pushing himself up and gently clasping a hand against his arm.

“I’m sure the Prince would let you spend the day with V if you asked. He may not be too happy or quick to agree but that’s just how he is,” L said with the ghost of smile, “I could accompany you if you would like. I have been meaning to speak to the prince about… something anyway. Patton smiled and sent a knowing look to L.

“Is it about your jam or about V?”

“About V, why would it be about my jam?” Patton’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat.

“Uhh, just forget I said anything.” L squinted and pursed his lips before sighing and relaxing his features,

“I’ll ask him later. Shall we?” L extended an arm to Patton who smiled and looped his arm around.

“We shall.”

Timeskip

When the two had finally arrived in the fae forest, the Prince was sitting on a log with J, the two watching V who was crouched down by the lake playing with one of the fish. Patton had no doubt that the Duke was nearby- most likely in the lake. Pat carefully untangled L and his arms before the two walked forward to their respective people.

“Hey kiddo, whatcha’ up to?” Patton asked, bending down and tilting his head slightly. V looked up at him, slightly dazed, and blinked for a few moments.

“I’m…“ He paused, his brain taking a moment to catch up, “I’m just… relaxing for a bit.” Patton smiled and brought a hand up, scratching Virgil’s head.

“Would you be interested in maybe baking with me? I wanna make angel food cake and I think you might have fun.” V leaned into the touch, slowly closing his eyes while nodding. Pat carefully moved his hand away standing up and offering him a hand.

“Hey, where are you two going?” Prince protested, standing up with a slight form on his face. J also looked upset when V stood up and held Patton’s hand tightly.

“I’m borrowing V to go bake.” Patton explained, looking down and smiling gently at V when he nuzzled into his side. “Did you ask before just taking him?” J hissed with no real bite.

“I asked V, he said he’s fine with it.”

“I didn’t mean V.” Janus rolled his eyes, standing up and fixing his hair to the side before crossing his arms. Pat laughed a bit and moved a hand to start rubbing V’s back.

“V isn’t just a prize for us to pass around, you know that right?” He teased. The Prince huffed and toed at the ground.

“Yes but it’s our turn with him. You got to play with him all night yesterday!” He whined, gesturing lightly to V.

“V and I only took a bath then I sent him to bed, you can play with him tomorrow,” Pat looked at L who was tapping his foot impatiently, “Also, I’m afraid I may have spilled the beans to L about your little… incident.” A bit of panic flashed in the Prince’s eyes as he looked over to L who appeared to be very mad.

“Oh, so you did do something to my jam?” J covered his mouth and looked away, hiding his smile. Patton rolled his eyes and squeezed V’s hand, gently tugging it towards him before walking forward.

“If you need us, we’ll be in the kitchen.” V waved a small goodbye before leaning into Patton’s side.

“The fuck is goin on up here?”

“Go away Duke!”

Timeskip

The kitchen door creaked as Patton pushed it open. He snapped his fingers, the candles in the room imminently being set aflame- their light being a little brighter than normal. V cautiously walks in behind him, stealthily pushing the stool he had forgotten to put back in it’s spot the night before.

“Do you want to stand and help cook or sit and help stir?” Pat asked, opening his recipe book and getting down the ingredients he needed with ease.

“I can do whatever.” V said, attempting to act indifferent. Patton looked through the recipe another time before turning to V.

“Would you be okay chopping the strawberries while I make the honey caramel?” V nodded and opened a lower cabinet, taking out a cutting board. Patton tilted his head slightly before shaking his head and opening the cutlery drawer- all made out of bronze of course. He carefully took out a knife and placed it on the cutting board.

“Be careful, we wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we?” Patton teased.

“I can handle myself, Pat.” For some reason, he wanted to disagree. Patton held his tongue in favor of just smiling and shaking his head fondly. Patton opened his

A few minutes passed, the quiet tapping of the knife against the cutting board and soft clinking of Patton’s spoon hitting the side of his pot. Every few moments V would slide the knife across the board and push the excess strawberry pieces into the trash.

The first week V was here, Patton had invited him to cook with him. It was just something simple; a soup with various cheeses and broccoli. What made it unusual was V’s reaction to Patton telling him to throw away the end of the broccoli.

Flashback

“Don’t we need it?” V asked, genuine confusion crossing his face. Patton looked up from where he was grating cheese and smiled.

“Nope! That part’s bitter anyway, too tough for J to eat. The Duke likes it though so if you really want to put it to use. Though, I do think the Duke said he doesn’t like it as much anymore,” Pat paused, “Never mind, just throw it away. It’s no big deal.” V’s eyes were wide. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding his words back.

He still hadn’t moved to throw it out.

“But… isn’t that wasting food? It’s- it’s still edible, right?” V asked, looking at the bottom, “It’s just a bit tough, can’t we just cook it extra long?”

“No no, it’s fine, it’s just food. We’re eating most of it anyway. No one here likes the bottom-” Patton stopped, raising an eyebrow, “Do you like the bottom? If you do, we can cook it, it'll just take a little extra time.”

“NO!” The two of them flinched, V looking back at the vegetable, panicking slightly.

“I mean- no, I’m fine. S- I regret starting this argument.” V mumbled.

“Oh little one, this wasn’t an argument, it’s fine really,” Pat tried to read V’s face from the side, “Little one, I promise I’m not angry.”

“... You’re not?” Chills ran up Patton’s back as he heard V whisper softly, so scared, so vulnerable. He almost wanted to cry.

“I promise. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.” Patton reassured. He smiled when V nodded softly, going back to cutting the vegetables.

A pit still sat in his stomach at the realization that V was still tense as can be. He wanted to reach out and hold him when V winced slightly at the knife got a little too close to his hand. Patton just had him stir the pot for him instead.

End Of Flashback

“Okay, now just put it in the box.” Patton explained, helping V move the strawberries.

“Won’t the juice seep into the wood?” He tilted his head, hesitating slightly. “Nope! The container is made out of copper, the Prince just painted it to look like wood. Come here, run a finger down the side.” Pat extended a hand, smiling when V carefully moved to put his hand on his palm. Slowly, Patton moved their hands and rubbed the back of V’s hand on the container, laughing a bit when V’s eyes widened in wonder.

“This- looks really realistic. How?”

“The Prince has been painting for decades, he’s picked up the skill very easily. If you would like, I’m sure he would love to teach you one day.” Patton said. V paused before nodding, moving his hand back to start pushing the strawberries into the jar.

“Why-”

“... What’s wrong?”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t be asking so many questions. So-” V sighed, taking a long blink, “Please excuse me for-”

“Little one, you don’t need to apologize for having questions. It’s good to be curious. Honestly, I’m happy that you’re comfortable enough to ask.” Patton reassured. V finished putting in the strawberries and set the cutting board down.

“Really?”

“Really,” Pat set a gentle gaze oh V, “You can ask any of us anything. If one of us doesn’t know something, another is sure to. If you have any questions that you think are… more complicated, you can go to L. He’s a lot smarter than I am. J is also good for answering questions about the realm if you ever get confused by how something works.”

“... Why are we putting the strawberries in here if we’re just putting them on the cake?”

“We have to macerate them first so that they don’t taste bitter. Do you want to help me with it or do you just want to watch?” Patton got the sugar down and opened the top of the jar. “Could… could you walk me through it while I help?” V asked. Patton almost miss the small whisper of “I don’t want to be useless” but refrained from mentioning anything.

“Of course. Come, stand here for me.” Patton stepped back, smiling as V stood in front of him, “Good,now, take the measuring cup- yes just like that- and get a big scoop of sugar… Great job, now just drop it onto the strawberries.” They repeated the steps a few more times, V growing lightly tense as more and more sugar was added.

“What if we add too much.”

“There’s never enough sugar- plus some of it will burn away and caramelize inside of the cake when it cooks.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

“I promise it will, and if it doesn’t, what’s the harm in a little more sugar?”

“Okay, that should be enough, no hold on just a moment.” Patton reached carefully around V and took the jar. V watched curiously as Pat stepped away, walking a few feet before stopping.

“Be careful, this is where the workout comes in. If you want, you can start on the cake, the recipe is right on the counter.”

Patton waited for V to turn around to start to shake the jar, his face scrunching up in concentration. After about a minute, he stopped, opening the jar and nodding before moving the jar to the ice box. When he looked back up, V was still reading the recipe, his shoulders tense.

“Are you alright?” Patton asked, walking up and frowning at V’s tear-glazed eyes, “hey, hey, what’s wrong? Come on little one, talk to me.”

V’s shoulders shook, tears starting to fall down his face. He raised his hands to wipe them away angrily, frustration covering his features. Patton slowly reached up, giving V enough time to pull away before he too his hands.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me, yeah? Come on, breath in, yes, good. Now breathe out- wonderful. You’re doing perfectly.” Patton rubbed at V’s hands, gently kneading them to keep him grounded, “Are you okay? You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I- I can’t… fuck…” Patton slowly brought V into a gentle hug.

“Take your time little one, it’s okay. Shhh, shhh, breathe sweetheart.”

V’s tears slowed but he was still hiccuping every few moments. Patton gently rubbed his back, hushing him and murmuring soft reassurances into his ear. The two slowly ricked from side to side, V relishing in the warmth of Patton’s arms.

“I don’t know.” V spoke into Patton’s sweater, causing him to look down.

“You don’t know what little one?”

“I don’t know how to…” V paused and flushed red, attempting to bury himself in Pat’s arms. He thought for a moment, recalling the past few minutes before it clicked.

“You don’t know how to read?”

“No, no, I- I can read it’s just…” V sighed, “It’s hard to read this. The letters don’t look right and I keep- I keep flipping words around.”

Ah, okay.

“Would it be easier for you if I helped and read it out for you?” Patton asked, smiling when V nodded into his chest. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

Timeskip

Later that night at dinner time, all the fae gathered at the pond smiling when V and Patton arrived with two picnic baskets. The twins had set up candles and called for fireflies to light their night time picnic. L had laid out a few blankets and lit a lemon and wood candle to keep bugs away. J had… done nothing really. What? He was working on the gateway that evening, he deserved a break.

That didn’t stop the others from making him have to take food last.

“This is delicious, thank you.”

“Absolutely divine.”

“Thank you darlings, this is wonderful.”

“Holy fuck this is good.”Patton laughed and shook his head, looking over to V who was happily eating a sandwich and snacking on strawberries.

“Do you like it sweetheart?” V nodded happily and bit into another strawberries. Patton smiled. He found V’s favorite fruit.

[innerpostmentality]

On the 8th day of ficmas…. Loose at Edenbrook a Naughty Elf with a Santa Suit

An Open Heart inspired fiction featuring Ethan Ramsey and (MC) Tia Sheldon Words around 1700 Warnings: this follows Ethan and Tia after my Kinky Cards 2020 submission so it is M- erotica All rights to Pixelberry characters and settings are acknowledged Thanks to emichelle and leelee10898 for organizing this and for their patience with me. 12 Days of Fictmas Tag list

Writers : @texaskitten30 @leelee10898 @emichelle @zaffrenotes @alj4890 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @god-save-the-keen @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd

Readers : @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @drariellevalentine @tornbetween2loves

  Tia was looking over the detailed list that Sienna had given her, checking it twice, she grinned and couldn’t keep herself from softly whisper signing “… makin’ a list, checkin’ it twice…. Dum de dum dum.. So naughty, but nice…” She slipped a small neatly wrapped silver brocade package with a tag that read “Merry Christmas Dr. Ramsey From: Your naughty Elf” into the large red shoulder pack that she’d been filling with the small tins of cookies and treats that Sienna had made’ and other small packages for staff and patients who were having to spend this Christmas at Edenbrook.  She pulled her phone out to check the time and frowned, it was later than she thought, and she had missed a call from Rafael who was supposed to be their Santa Claus. She sighed and called him back.  Rafael picked up on the first ring. ”Tia? I’m so sorry. I’ve got a fever.. I thought I’d be better once I got a shower and some coffee but it’s gotten worse. I don’t think I should do this. I don’t want to get anyone sick.”  Tia could hear the congestion and sadness in his voice. “Oh no. I’m so sorry you’re sick, Raphael. I understand. We’ll find someone. Just take care of yourself. Lots of fluids and plenty of rest. Doctors orders! We’re going to have a little New Year get together. You get better and we’ll see you there.”     She looked forlornly at the Santa costume draped over her desk. Then a mischievous grin settled on her face as she pulled out her phone and called Ethan.                  ________________________________ “This is all bass ackwards if you ask me.” Theodore Sheldon kept his dark eyes on the road as he grumbled. “… driving half-way across the country so we can at least meet this guy. AFTER they are already engaged! Two weeks before the wedding!... What if we didn’t want to come for Christmas? Maybe we would have liked to come for Thanksgiving! Maybe we already had plans for Christmas.” Marie’s smile was a soft, private one as she glanced up from her book and over at her handsome, ranting, husband. The years had made him a perfect fit for the term debonair with a kiss of salt and pepper in his hair but only a single streak of white in his immaculately trimmed beard. He was usually very calm and genial perhaps with the exception of any suitors of their only child, Tia. Then all the proud, incredibly protective papa came full to the fore.  “Did we, mi Amor?” “No. But that isn’t the point. He didn’t ask. He should have asked. We should know this man who is taking our Tia. He could be a complete fraud. Some charlatan out to take advantage of her. He’s too old for her. Something is wrong with a man never married and 38 years old. Maybe he is married. Left his wife and their kids in a trailer park in Detroit looking for greener pastures.” “Theo, Stop it!” Marie shut her book app and frowned over at the mature man now pulling a face a five-year old sulking boy would be proud of. “You know better. The moment you got off the phone with Tia when she told us they were engaged you Googled him. You know he’s a renowned doctor.  He’s a good man, Theo. And Tia is in love with him. Be happy for them. You know they were off on vacation when he proposed. And this works perfectly. We’ll get to spend Christmas and New Years and then the wedding the next week with them. It’s a lovely holiday for us the way this is working out.” She reached over and gently stroked his arm. “Te amo, Theo. I’m looking forward to exploring Boston with you mi Amor.” “He should have asked…” he grumbled but patted his wife’s hand on his arm.                        _________________________________ Ethan was reviewing the cases that had come into the ER that morning. Thankfully they were all treat and release. A few minor burns, some cuts that required stitches but not surgery. A kid that swallowed a marble. Another with a broken toe and some pretty bad scrapes who was trying out his new skate board. Slow was always good in the ER. But it was so slow that he was having too much time to be anxious about meeting Tia’s parents later. It was a strange feeling for him, wanting to impress… well anyone besides Tia.   Then his phone rang and he smiled as he answered, “Hello Tia. Have you heard when your parents will be arriving?” “Ah. No. I think this afternoon or evening. But I have a problem I was hoping you might help me with. If you’re not too busy.” “It’s been blessedly slow so far today. I was just reviewing cases. I think I have a bit before the afternoon food poisoning cases start arriving. I’ll join you in a minute.”                     _____________________________      He was wearing fake hair, bells and a fat suit.  Seven years of medical school three years of residency, Published seven times in the American Journal of Medicine. Two text books published on Diagnostic Methodology and the Interpretation of Diagnostic Modeling. He was wearing fake hair, bells, and a fat suit, and a grin as his very naughty elf bounced up to him jingling in her little green velvet elf suit with her peppermint knee sock clad legs, his ring on her finger, and bells bedecking the pointy toes of her green elf shoes struggling to carry a giant red sack that had presents sticking out of the top. “Tia? Put that down and let’s find a cart. I do not want either of us getting a hernia for Christmas. It would definitely interfere with you making this up to me later.” A few minutes later they settled on an empty IV tree as a Santa bag holder and went wheeling the bag through the halls distributing the assortment of goodies to the staff, popping in to occupied rooms and giving patients little gifts that didn’t violate dietary restrictions and brought lots of smiles to faces. As they left the last room Tia grinned and held the small silver box up. “Only one left. Say’s it’s for Dr. Ramsey. I guess we should go to his office and see if he’s there…” Ethan raised a brow and his bright eyes twinkled with amusement. “Lead the way.” Tia smirked and sashayed her way to the elevator. She paused for a moment before hitting the button for the 4th floor. The moment the elevator doors closed Ethan pulled her to him and kissed her. “4th floor is diagnostics not emergency.” He murmured as he let her go and the elevator door opened. Tia sighed and giggled. Then led him down the hall toward her office stopping by the door just before hers. “I think you should open the present now.” Ethan broke the tape seal and opened the box as his gaze held hers. Finally he looked down. There was a note, and a skimpy bit of green lace underwear wrapped around a key. ‘Look what I’m NOT wearing, just for you! Doctor Banerji pulled a few strings and got us adjacent offices!’ He slid the key in the lock and opened the door to the darkened office letting her go in first. Shutting the door behind them he slipped his arms around her as he whispered, “I love you, my naughty elf.” “Ummm… I love you too, Ethan. Thank you for doing this.” She kissed him sweetly then deepened the kiss.

He slid his hands down her back then below her skirt and found her bare bottom. Lifting her she wrapped her legs around him so he could carry her. She giggled softly as he carried her across the room to the desk, kissing her all the way. He set her down on the desk then stepped away and started wrestling his way out of the Santa suit.  “Hurry, Ethan. I need you.” she purred at him in the darkness. “This damn suit is not cooperating.” The fat padding was attached with Velcro to a spandex body suit. He tried taking the spandex off without removing the fat pads first but that wasn’t working so he rolled the spandex back up and started ripping the fat pads off. “I can’t see a damn thing.”  Tia giggled as she heard the rrrrrip, rrrrip of Velcro separating.  A few minutes later his hands cupped her face and he was kissing her again. Her hands explored the warmth of his bare chest and then wandered lower caressing his growing stiffness. His fingers found her wetness a moment later as he slipped one and then a second finger into her, curling them up and stroking across her g spot. He heard her breathing change and soft mewls marked the nearing crest of her passion. His voice was very low, “Lie back Darling. I need to be in you now.” He pulled his fingers from her even as she guided his velvety hardness into her. His arm slipped beneath her to protect her from the edge of the desk as he began to thrust. Ethan knew all the mechanics and still the wonder and marvel of making love to this precious woman shattered him and remade him every time. “Ethan… Ethan… I … “ Her back arched and he felt the storm within her clench around him and he was gone.  “Tia..” He held her to him tightly releasing deeply in her. “I..” They both heard the knock and Sienna’s voice in the hallway. “Tia?”  “I’m not sure exactly where she is, Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon. Maybe she’s down in Dr. Ramsey’s office. Let’s check there. I know they were going to be distributing gifts but I think they already finished.” …….. Merry Christmas!.....

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 47

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45 || CHAPTER 46

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: last filler chapter. the next 3 chapters are all planned. this is the end omg im so sad! i love you guys so much for sticking to this story! thank you so so much! the others chapters will be separated in two so i can write each POVs :)

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : this is, i believe, the last request i’ll add to this story. thank you times a million to all of you who sent some! I received over 200 requests just for YOU&ME! you guys are incredible and i hope youll want to participate to my next story as much as you did for this one! 

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 47 : His chapter

NIALL

October 2018

Tour was finally over and we were back home. We had decided to get back to California for a while, if only to spend some time with friends and relax. I knew Olivia wanted to be around Louis and I just enjoyed being in LA for obvious reasons. Things had never been better between us but at least once a day, I could feel the ring I bought burning in my pocket or whispering to me from my underwear drawer. It always felt like the right time to get on one knee and ask her and at the same time, it also never felt like it was the perfect moment. I knew it was ridiculous because I was pretty sure she wanted to spend her life with me, but I was scared of being rejected, I was scared of what a 'no' would do to us and to our relationship. So many times, I had looked in her eyes and almost dropped down on one knee to ask her to be my wife, but I never did. I liked to believe I hadn't asked her yet because I knew she deserved something bigger than just me giving her a ring in a hotel room while we're waiting for our ride to the airport, but it was definitely not the biggest problem. I was just fucking scared and every time the words were about to come out of my mouth, I'd swallow them. I had no idea who I was trying to fool : Olivia was never the type to enjoy attention or extravagant things. She was reserved and private, pretty much like me, and I knew my proposal didn't have to be anything wild. It could be simple, and cheesy, and as long as I could find the right words, it would be perfect.

I heard the key in the lock and it took me out of my thoughts, pushing away my inner confusion. I waited until the door opened and she appeared, making my lips curl. She made a quick head movement but everything seemed to go on slow motion, like in a movie, and i watched her hair fly behind her shoulder. I was in it so deep I almost groaned and grimaced at how cheesy I was.

"Hey babe, what are you doing?"

I breathed in deeply, realizing I had completely stopped, and sent her a smile, licking my lips.

"Waiting for you like the loser I am." I half-joked before chuckling. "You were with Louis? How's he?"

She smiled at me and took a step closer, tilting her head. "First off, you're not a loser. You're cute. You're sweet. You're super endearing." she just said, staring at me fondly. Her expression changed and she glanced down, sucking on her bottom lip before putting her purse next to the couch. "I was not with... I didn't spend the night with Louis."

I frowned, waiting for her to continue and when her eyes met mine, I knew it was bad.

"I went to dinner with Dylan."

My lips parted and my heart jumped in my chest. I was never the jealous type and I was not about to start now, right? Then why did something seemed to stir in my stomach? Why was there a lump in my throat that had seemed to appear suddenly?

"No way, tell me you're kiddin'."

"Niall, please-"

"No, don't act like this is normal and that I'm stupid to be angry." i cut her, shaking my head. "I can't believe you spent all this time alone with Dylan."

She sighed again and sat on the couch, rubbing her hands on her eyes. I walked closer and dived my hands in my pockets, trying to remain calm but the truth was, I was hurt and I was not sure what all of this meant. All I knew was that I felt betrayed and I could barely believe we'd have to go through something like this again. This time, the roles seemed to be reversed but I didn't want this to break us.

"Obviously, you knew it was wrong since you purposely omitted to tell me." I continued, pressing my lips together to be sure I wouldn't let out a mean remark. "Why did you do that to me, Liv?"

It took her a few seconds but she finally got up very slowly, right in front of me. Her body was close, so close I could feel the warmth of it on my skin, but I just stared in her eyes, feeling my heart soften at the way she was looking at me.

"I don't love him, you know it." she expressed in a soft tone. "I don't love anyone but you. He's still my friend, and also my co-worker. I probably shouldn't have gone with him, especially not without telling you, but... I don't know, Niall."

I stared at her for what felt like an hour as I tried to calm the beatings of my heart and finally passed one of my hands in my hair and sat down on the couch. She turned around to face me but remained up as I shook my head.

"I'm not going to tell you who you can and can't be friends with, and I do trust you." I let out carefully. "But Olivia, how would you feel if i came back here one night and told you I spent the evening with Heidi?"

I could feel her body tense near mine but I didn't look up at her. I waited and eventually, she sat next to me and reached for my hand on my thigh, squeezing my fingers with both her hands.

"I'd feel betrayed, and sad, and... and hurt." she admitted. "I'm sorry Niall, it was wrong of me."

I brought my other hand and placed it over hers, squeezing her hand and brushing my thumb on the top of it.

"If it can reassure you though, Dylan is seeing someone." she added, making me look up in her eyes. "A pretty blonde. Actress too. Not your type, obviously, but I think they really fit."

"Not my type?" I repeated in an amused tone, raising my eyebrows. "Says who?"

"Your dating history." she explained with a chuckle. "She's a small cute blonde and you like tall and sexy brunettes."

I pressed my lips together again and shook my head. "Naa, that's not true anymore." I just shrugged, making her frown. "I just like one sexy brunette."

She laughed and tilted her head. "You're crazy, I'm not sex-"

I cut her by pressing my palm against her mouth and raising my eyebrows, moving slightly closer. My eyes roamed on her again as something jumped in my stomach. I wanted to ask her to marry me at this exact moment. I wanted to tell her she was everything I needed in this life and that my heart was aching for her to become my wife. Instead, I breathed in and finally swallowed.

"Don't argue with me. You're sexy." I whispered before moving my hand away very slowly. "And I love you."

She licked her lips and the left corner of her lips raised up. "Your love is blinding you." she whispered, moving closer to brush her lips against mine. "But I appreciate it. I love you too."

She kissed me so gently that if I had closed my eyes, it would have felt unreal, and when she pulled away, I saw her facial expression change.

"I'm sorry, Niall. That won't ever happen again." she apologized gently in a soft tone.

"I know." I whispered before suddenly realizing something. "Hey, does that mean he broke up with Heidi?"

Her lips curled and she shrugged. "Yea, that's what he told me tonight. I feel a bit sorry for her, she's been through a lot in the past few weeks."

I stared at her for a few seconds, surprised by her words but at the same time a bit impressed. The fact that she could be empathetic even to people who were mean to her was something I appreciated. Of course, we hadn't been too kind to Heidi either and Liv was not wrong, she had been through a lot, even if it was not all on us and that she had put us through a lot too. Still, I felt my lips curl and she tilted her head before sighing as she turned her upper body my way.

"It's horrible what we all did to each other, don't you think?"

My traits softened and I nodded. "It is." I admitted in a low tone. "Let's just use this so we never do that again."

Her lips curled a bit and she licked them slowly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Her arms slithered around my neck and I sent her an amused smile.

"It won't ever happen again." she confessed, tilting her chin up. "I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you."

Her words made me chuckle and I raised my eyebrows, still looking at her, "Oh what a coincidence, I plan the same with you."

I brought one of my hands to her cheek before pressing my forehead against hers. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. It made me smile and gently, I rubbed my nose against hers, making her chuckle low.

"Shower?" I proposed in a low tone.

"Mm no, a bath. Together."

I laughed a bit but we ended up in the bathroom together as she filled the tub with warm water. I let my eyes roam on her as she got undressed, leaving her clothes on the cold tiles, and when her eyes met mine, she raised her eyebrows. The left corner of my lips raised up into a cheeky smile and she just shook her head but I took a step closer, placing my hands on her waist and making her smile too.

"Fifteen minutes without thinking about sex. Please." she asked, tilting her head and making me laugh.

"But you're just standing naked in front of me I mean..."

"Niall James Horan, you're not sixteen anymore, you can be around a naked girl without feeling the need to shag her, i'm sure!"

"Around any other girl, yea, but when it's you..." I let out, half-joking and making her roll her eyes.

"Come on, get naked too." she let out as she started working on my pants. I helped her take them off and before she could do it, I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, letting fall on the pile of her clothing on the floor. "Alright, seeing you in your usual white boxers does something to me." she admitted, bringing her hand to my cock over my boxers and biting her bottom lip.

"Look who's all horny now." I laughed as she got on her tiptoes to kiss my lips, letting go of me and smiling against my mouth. "Come on, get in the tub."

After a few minutes, I was sitting in the tub, legs spread, and she was sitting between them, her back leaned against my chest. I didn't remember us ever doing that before but I enjoyed it a lot more that I thought I would. We started talking and laughing together and it was exactly like when we were younger and we'd spend all night talking together. Well, almost : the younger versions of us were definitely not naked.

"I can't believe we're dating again." she let out after a while as her thumb brushed gently on my arm. "If someone had told me that a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed it. Who would have thought?"

"Me." I replied before she moved slightly to look at me. "I mean, I wrote 'you and me' about that. I knew we were meant to be, and I've always known I wanted to spend my life with you."

I knew this discussion could go wrong but I had to be honest about all of this.

"I could have refused, you know. I could have been over you by then." she argued calmly. "I thought I was. But then you appeared with that stupid gorgeous mug of yours, that fucking insane smile and those ridiculously incredible eyes..." She shook her head. "I had no chance to win that fight."

I let out a loud laugh and she tilted her head to reach my chin with her lips, leaving a small kiss on my skin.

"When I found out you were getting married... I started doubting everything." I admitted, looking down at my hand moving slowly to bring warm water on her skin after seeing her shiver. "I thought maybe it was too late. But I couldn't seem to give up."

We remained silent for a while until she grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers tight. "I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too." I whispered. "And I feel so lucky that you gave me an other chance."

Once again, she turned around slightly but this time, I moved my chin down to kiss her lips.

"We don't even have an anniversary date." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Of course we do! It's April 16th of this year."

I felt my heart jump at my words and held my breath. April 16th was the day I bought that promise ring for her in Paris. It was when I decided that I wanted to marry her and that I would ask her to be my wife. Since that day, I had almost asked her so many times I couldn't count anymore. I hadn't dropped on one knee yet but I knew that I would at some point, and April 16th was the day I realized that. Some days I would bring the ring with me in my pocket, some other days it would stay in one of the drawers in our room, but it was always in the back of my mind. I obviously couldn't tell her that and when she turned around an other time to frown at me, I suddenly remembered something she had said.

"Y-Yea, I mean you don't remember?" I stammered. "There was an article about that earring you gave me and you said that you didn't care that people knew we were together."

We had also mentioned not being official the day after, I remembered that too. but I decided not to mention it. I was pretty sure she had mentioned that we were together but I was also aware it was probably just a bad choice of words. She was right, we didn't have an anniversary date, but I hoped that it would become that date if only because it was a big day for me and I hoped it would become a big day for her, too.

"I don't remember, but I trust you." she just shrugged before her lips curled. "Alright, April 16th, then."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and I kissed her gently but firmly again, making her chuckle against my mouth. I could have spent the whole night with her body pressed on me as we chilled in hot water but after a while, we got out, dried ourselves and got back to our room to put on pajamas.

"I'll make us some tea." she proposed as we walked back to the living room and she finally disappeared in the kitchen.

I sat on the couch and started looking for the remote on the coffee table. I was about to give up when something caught my eyes and I grabbed her notebook. It was similar to mine but of a different color and I knew she wrote ideas for her tv show or her future book in it. I was about to ignore it when I realized it was open and I could have sworn I had seen my surname. Without thinking, I grabbed it and a smile appeared quickly on my face when I saw 'Olivia Horan' scribbled everywhere on a page, surrounded by hearts and stars. It seemed like she had tried to create a signature with her future name and it made me think about the ring in my drawer. If I was scared she wouldn't accept, that notebook was a good clue that her answer would probably be positive. I put it away when I heard noise and leaned against the couch as I watched her walk slowly up to me to make sure she wouldn't spill our hot beverages and I thanked her as I grabbed a mug. She sat next to me and our eyes met before our lips curled. I couldn't believe how happy I was.

"I love you, Niall. I'm... I'm glad we're dating now." she admitted before taking a sip.

"Me too, petal. I'm happy you accepted to be my girlfriend again."

                                                     ---

December 2018

When Liv told me she was spending the day with Julia, I was a bit surprised, but the truth was, I enjoyed the fact that these two got along so well. She said she wouldn't be home late but I knew how she could get and when Louis proposed that we grabbed a bite (and a few pints, of course)  together, I jumped on the occasion.

I knew Louis had become Olivia's best friend and even if we used to be very close, I was fine with that. Somehow, they had been through a lot together, and I knew it was partially my fault : they probably wouldn't be that close if I hadn't broken up with Liv. Of course, they'd still be friends, since they were before we broke up, but I knew their pain brought them closer and it was obvious that nothing could tear them apart now.

I was also slowly but surely getting over the fact that Louis and her had sex a few times. I was not sure how often but I was sure I didn't want to know and anyway, i couldn't blame her or him. It had happened and I had to live with that fact. Besides, I knew there was nothing between them anymore.

I smiled when I saw Louis walk in the restaurant and got up to hug him before we both sat back down. We ordered beer and when we got them, we clinked our glasses together and drank half of it. It was weird to think I was with Olivia's best friend and she was actually hanging out with mine, but the fact that we appreciated each other's entourage was perfect.

"So, Neil, how are things for you?" he asked, playing with his beer and turning it around in his hands. "Where's my queen tonight?"

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, amused. "Your queen is with Julia, but she's not supposed to come back home too late. She'll text me. Where's El?"

"Gone for a few days."

"Ah. That's why you called me." I pointed out before laughing when I saw his face. "It's ok Tommo, I get it."

"I'm thinking you're ding quite well these days." he pointed out, ignoring my last comment. "When are you gonna pop the question?"

I almost choked on my beer and wiped my mouth on my shoulder before swallowing hard and making Louis laugh.

"We've just been taking bets on that." he continued, shrugging a shoulder.

"We?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Liam and I. Trying to bring Harry in it but he says it's none of our business."

"I've always thought Harry was the smartest of my bandmates." I joked, making Louis laugh again.

"Oh yea, you definitely thought that when he was balls deep in your best friend's fanny right?"

"Shut up, Tommo!" I frowned as he laughed again. "He probably shagged her less times than you did."

Louis took an other big sip of his drink. "Touché." he shrugged again before chuckling. "Not sure what it says about the relationship they had, though."

I raised my nose up in a grimace and drank what was left of my beer. I didn't really want to have this discussion and I decided to change the subject.

"Well, I don't know which bet you took, but I hope you lose." I admitted as I looked through my pocket, taking out the ring and placing it right in the middle of the table.

Louis' eyes got bigger and he moved closer, bending down to look it it without daring to touch it. I stopped the waitress to order us two other beers and a few shots and when I turned back to my friend. he was still staring at the ring like he didn't know what it was. I snatched it quickly, taking him out of his thoughts, and put it in my little finger to stare at it.

"I've thought about asking her so many times." I confessed, my eyes still on the ring. "But it never feels like the right time."

"I know you're a romantic man, Niall but... will there ever be a right time?" Louis said gently, making me sigh. "Aren't you just a bit scared that she'll say no and leave?"

I groaned and closed my eyes before raising my nose up in a grimace again. "Maybe."

He was right, I knew it, but at the same time, i wanted to make it special for her. I wanted it to be something that she'd remember forever, something she couldn't forget even if she tried. I wanted to express my feelings to her and tell her everything she wanted and needed to hear, just to make her happy. I had tried to write down the right words but everything seemed cliché and cheesy.

"Do it. She's your soulmate. I can't make up a scenario in my head where she'd actually say 'no'." he continued. "I think deep down, you know I'm right."

I looked up and sighed again, putting the ring back in my pocket.

"I don't know anymore, I just don't want to take her for granted, you know?" I shrugged. "I've done that before and it messed up everything. Never again."

"That doesn't mean you can't be confident and believe in the love she has for you."

I frowned a bit as I stared at him. "Are you trying to win your bet against Liam by making me ask Olivia to marry me?"

"No." Louis chuckled, leaning against his chair. "I just think you've been hesitant for too long. When exactly did you buy this ring?"

"Mm, well, about, 8 months ago?"

Just saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. Had I been waiting that long? It was almost pathetic. How scared of rejection could a guy be? Seriously. I had never reacted like that in anything I did before, and I was always the confident type, but asking Olivia to marry me was something that made me so nervous I could feel my hands sweat and I passed one of them in my hair.

"8 months? Are you fucking insane? How did you manage to keep that secret?"

"I don't even know." I mumbled in a low tone, staring at my glass, not daring to check Louis' amused expression.

"Niall, we're talking about Olivia. The girl you've known all your life, the girl who's been in love with you since the very first day she found out what love was. Put your big boy pants on and pop the fucking question before that fucking ring starts to get rusty!"

"It's made of gold...."

He rolled his eyes and kicked me under the table, making me groan again as I moved my leg away. Damn, that kid could kick.

"Don't be a fookin' idiot, mate, and just ask her."

I finally looked up in his eyes and he raised his eyebrows at me. He was right but at the same time, I didn't know when I should do it. I wanted to do something special, or at least slightly romantic, but all I could think about were ugly clichés from movies. Nothing original came to mind and it was driving me insane.

"Alright. Soon." I gave in. "I'll do it soon."

[aqua-dolly-bride-desactivated]

In the calm of the soon two young ladies take, with the sweet flavor of the tea, their snacks and have fun. The silence of the springlike day, makes to one of them said:

"Ahh... I'm sleepy... but I can't sleep anywhere like Ritsu", and with a catty smile she said, "...or like you. Seriously, this isn't normal, go to the doctor".

"Once you get used to this way, this isn't too bad like you see", the another one nervously smiles, trying uselessly to look confident, "Look at me! I'm a perfectly normal person if you don't count that I fall asleep in wherever place".

"It doesn't look very healthy, you know?", reproached her.

"This isn't important, Rei-chan", she was trying to not worry her friend, and, after a sip of tea, she changed the topic "I have an idea, I was wondering that maybe in this vast universe there's a me that doesn't have this weird illness", she humorously smiled and added, "the illness that my doctor must be aware of"

"Hum.... universe... hehe", the attendant girl smiles like Chesire.

"What?"

"Something dropped in my mind".

"Ohh! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

"What if...in a parallel world... we're livin' in an otome game?"

"That would be so cool, but... who knows? Maybe we're living in an otome game in this world too, and we haven't even noticed it".

"In that case, I don't wanna know it. I don't wanna be a support character".

"Don't worry" laughed her friend, "at least it could be an otome with multiply election of central female character. In that case, and just in that case, we must pray in order that someone is playing our route. Alas", exclaimed, "it sounds a little scary. But... in that case... believing that, probably, somewhere, maybe in another dimension, there is a version of ourselves, living an otome game... How much will they resemble to us?"

"Who knows? We probably lived unlike lives, and for this reason we'll be unlike people. But... something must be alike..."

"I agree... something that...", she immersed herself in a deeply meditation. One, two, three times, you can count the seconds if you want, but, at the same time that the another one stared to get sleepy she exclaimed, "something that says that we're essentially the same! The same essence! What else that the essence would it be? Don't you believe that?"

"Maybe, I guess"

"The primary one, the basic one. Maybe is the same that Harukawa-kun can see: the aura's color. The same essence in two different bodies.... the same aura's color... this is good to imagine... another you, living in another world, having fun and interesting adventures... Maybe and just maybe, when we wake up of a profound nappy... and we don't remember what kind of dream we had, we actually were...", in this point of the conversation, she was immersing herself amid the tea party and the dream, "living another live across the eyes of that piece of soul..."

"That sounds cool and interesting, but you're makin' that sleepy face again. And if I remember well", she stared to laugh, "the one that wants to fall asleep was me. I'll start to think that the shut-eye is a kind of contagious disease in this place".

"And Ritsu is the carrier one" the girls laughed about that for a while, "But no, I won't fall asleep, don't you thrust in me?"

"Of course I thrust in you", she ironically said, "But I really want that you give me that tea cup, I see it spilled down".

"You know?", she said, no hearing her at all, "After that conspiracy, I'll keep in mind pay a little bit more attention to my dreams. Maybe they will give me good ideas... or maybe I'll find my dimensional twin"

"This affirmation is just sayin' me that you'll be sleepin' more in this dimension" she said, worried about her.

"I'll be sure to not die in my dreams... cuz the mind character will die too... and....", the tea dropped in the floor at the same time that she falled asleep.

"My my, she doesn't give me the tea cup and she falls asleep again. Haa...it doesn't matter now, doesn't? Hey, Sui-chan, you had better if you don't die in another dimension, right?"

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [11]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 11/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Lir can't stop smiling as she follows Dante through the streets of Fortuna. The aquarium had been everything she dreamed of and more: large tanks full of exotic fish, an open pool where she had been allowed to pet a sea urchin and a turtle—even if the ticklish sensation of the urchin's spines made her squeal—and even a hallway that passed through an exhibit where a shark swam directly overhead. Dante had been more than patient with her when she stopped and stared in wonder, gently pulling her to the side to allow others to pass.

Her hand reaches to her neck, where a charm he'd bought her rests. It's a simple thing, a shark's tooth on a leather thread, but she cherishes it more than anything else she owns, and he'd seemed pleased by how happy she'd been to receive it. Even now, he's more relaxed than he's been in weeks, strolling along with his hands in his pockets, pointing out the different shops and buildings he recognizes.

She's a bit nervous about meeting Nero and Kyrie again, more so meeting their children, but the high of the aquarium makes it easy to shift that into anticipation. Lir has always been good with children, something that came about when she'd been picked to teach weekly classes for reading and writing, and she hopes these will take to her as easily as the ones from her home had.

Their house is small, but cute, a bike sitting on the tiny patch of grass that is their front lawn and a selection of different kinds of balls on the steps. When Dante rings the doorbell there are shouts and footsteps inside, and Lir is shocked when two boys fling the door open. "Dante!" they scream, launching themselves at him.

"Hey boys!" he laughs, catching each one in an arm. Lir chuckles as he swings them upside down, holding them like footballs.

"Can I touch your gun?" one asks.

"No, Nero would kill me."

"How about me? Can I have one?" the other pleads.

"Maybe later. Go tell Nero we're here."

He swings them both upright and they take off, pushing each other as they disappear in the house. Dante turns to her with a grin and Lir laughs. "Is it always like that when you come over?" she asks.

"Pretty much! They'll be askin' for stories all night. Always gotta be careful which ones I tell, or Nero'll scold me about givin' 'em nightmares."

She nods, and then Nero appears in the doorway, eyeing both of them. "Guns?" he asks, and Dante shakes his head. "Sword? Any other sort of weapon?"

"Just my good looks," Dante jokes.

Nero rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't hurt yourself stretchin' like that." He steps to the side to allow them to enter. "Come on in. Kyrie's makin' spaghetti."

"It smells delicious," Lir says as she enters, and he smiles at her. "Thank you for having us."

"He treating you okay?" Nero asks suspiciously as he closes the door.

Lir nods, and he leads them back through the house. The boys are in the living room watching television and shooting tiny cars along an elaborate racetrack that takes up most of the floor. "Woah!" Dante exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he plops down with them.

Nero nudges her arm. "Come on with me, you don't have to play too," he says with a laugh.

Lir glances back as he leads her towards the kitchen, smiling to see him listening to the boys excitedly talk as they climb into his lap. She would have never guessed he would be so good with kids, and it really makes her happy . . . but then she realizes that is an incredibly dangerous train of thought and focuses squarely on the back of Nero's head.

In the kitchen, they find Kyrie humming to herself as she stirs a pot on the stove. The room smells of garlic and tomatoes and spices, and Lir breathes it in deeply, her mouth watering; visiting the aquarium had left her with a larger appetite than usual, so she's eager to taste the dinner Kyrie has spent so long on. "Get'cha something to drink?" Nero asks.

Lir nods, moving on instinct towards the stove. "What can I do to help?"

"Sit and relax," Kyrie laughs. "You're our guest."

She pauses, then takes a seat at the small table in the kitchen, where she'll be in easy reach if she's needed. Nero sets a glass of white wine in front of her and settles across from her with a bottle of beer clutched loosely in his hand. "Sorry if this is abrupt," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I wanted to talk to you for a minute without Dante around."

"What about?"

Instead of Nero, it's Kyrie who answers, "He's worried that you might not be happy since this is an arranged marriage. Yes," she adds when Lir inhales sharply, "Nero told me. I'm not one to judge, so don't think that I will. But, having seen how poorly they can go, we both just want to make sure you're alright."

"Yes, it's all wonderful!" she answers immediately, wincing a bit as her voice goes a bit high pitched. Lir clears her throat when they exchange a glance, but she continues on, "Everything is fine. Dante treats me very well, I'm very happy. I'm glad to be here."

"Your family seemed intense," Nero says. He leans against the kitchen counter and folds his arms. "Did they pressure you?"

Lir shrugs, not sure how to answer. "Yes and no. But it was my decision in the end. We needed to do something about the oath, and Dante and I . . ." She sucks in a breath, wanting to avoid that topic altogether. "We figured it was the best solution."

Unfortunately by their expressions, Lir can see her explanation wasn't enough. "What oath?" Kyrie asks just as Nero says, "Best solution?"

"The, uh . . ." Lir shifts uncomfortably. "Sparda and . . . Well, he . . ."

"Sparda," Nero snorts, shaking his head. "At what point are people going to give up all this stupid crap?"

"Nero!" Kyrie scolds. He looks appropriately chagrined, and Kyrie sighs. "Lir, your business is your own. We just want to know you are safe and happy."

Lir nods. "I am."

"Good." Kyrie hands Nero the potholder as he moves to drain the pot. "So . . ." Kyrie says with a wink. "Are we expecting any little ones soon?"

Her heart pounds uncomfortably in her chest. It's an innocent enough question, one she'd heard directed to her friends, who would smile coyly and beat around the bush until all of them were laughing about it. But for her? Is it even possible? She's been regular since she was twelve, but there's no telling if any sort of pregnancy between her and Dante would hold, given that he's half-devil. Yet hadn't Sparda had children just fine, even if it had taken him two thousand years?

"Not yet," she murmurs. "We're still adjusting to this, and children would mean . . ." We'd have to have sex again, she nearly says, but cuts that short. "What about you?"

"Not until after we're married." Nero calls over his shoulder. "Besides, the ones we've got now are more than enough."

As if on cue, there is a crash from the living room, and Nero sighs as he places the pot back on the stove. "What have they done now?" he grumbles as he walks through the kitchen door.

Lir stands as well, but Kyrie just laughs and points to a drawer. "Will you set the table? We're just about ready."

Glad for something to do, she gathers silverware and plates and moves into the dining room on the side. It's a bit cramped, just enough space for six chairs, but Lir can't help but smile to herself as she carefully arranges the place settings, even folding napkins on top in pretty arrangements. This is much more her element, and when Dante swings into the dining room a moment later with one kid on his hip and the other on his back, Nero trailing after, they all stop short. "Wow," Nero says, lifting one of the boys and planting him on a chair.

Lir smiles, and Dante hands off the other kid before walking around to stand next to her. "This looks really nice!" he beams, holding out his hand to help her to a seat.

She looks at his extended palm and swallows thickly before pulling out a chair. "It's no trouble," she says, quickly sitting down.

He gives her a strange look, and she doesn't miss the glance Nero and Kyrie share as they bring the food to the table, and her face burns. After what her mother told her, touching his hand seems too risky; while Lir can't remember if she's done it before, and knows that she probably has—hadn't he helped her up after she'd fallen once?—she's afraid that doing it now, when they've gotten to know each other, will end with her parents taking her away.

"This looks delicious," she says to Kyrie. "Thank you."

Kyrie smiles, though it seems a tad uneasy. "Of course. Dante is like family, and you're included in that now."

Silence descends, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware over plates as they portion out the spaghetti and toasted bread, the two boys intent on eating, and Lir does her best not to sink into her seat. This can be salvaged, she thinks, and she turns to Nero. "Have you lived in Fortuna long?"

He shrugs, grating cheese over his pasta. "My whole life. Grew up in an orphanage for a while. Then Kyrie's dad took me in."

"Childhood sweethearts," Lir murmurs. "That's really sweet."

"Did you have someone before you moved here?" Nero asks.

There is a loud thump under the table followed by Nero's "ow!" Lir jumps, not sure if it was Dante or Kyrie who did it, but she answers, "No, it wasn't exactly encouraged."

"Did you know that my birthday is next week?" the younger boy pipes up.

Relieved for the interruption, Lir shakes her head. "I didn't! Happy birthday! How old will you be?"

He puts up five fingers. "Will you come to the party? Kyrie is making a cake and she promised it would be chocolate."

"That would be very nice," Lir answers.

She catches Dante smiling at her when the other boy asks, "Do you and Dante have babies yet?"

Dante chokes on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken, and her face feels like it's on fire, both from the question and his reaction. "No," she says gently. "We don't. Do you know what that means?"

The boy's nose wrinkles. "You haven't kissed?"

Lir laughs softly. "It means, of course, that you'll get more presents from us on your birthday if you've been a good boy. Have you been a good boy?"

He nods his head eagerly. "Yeah! I can tie my shoes and I'm learnin' how to write and I can spell my name!"

The boys dominate the rest of the conversation, and Lir is happy to ask questions with the occasional interjection from Nero or Kyrie. She can feel Dante's eyes on her though, and at one point swears she feels his hand on her leg, but when she looks down it is gone.

Kyrie offers coffee after dinner, but Lir glances at Dante. "We should get back," she says. "It was a long day, I'm a bit tired. If you don't mind?"

"Of course," Kyrie agrees. "I'm so happy the two of you came to visit, and I know the boys are, too. Nero, will you show them out?"

"Yeah." He stands, jerking his head. "C'mon. Least I can do is make sure you get to the crossroads safely."

Lir and Dante follow him. "This is far enough," Dante says when they're on the porch. Nero turns to him with a frown, and he shrugs. "Kyrie'll need your help with the kids, and I can get us back to our room. No need to worry. Besides, I need to talk to Lir alone."

"Careful out there," Nero says as he nods towards the street. "Demons don't normally come this far towards the water but strange things can happen." He glances at Lir and grins. "Of course, now that the two of you are hitched I guess we don't have to look there for those fuckers, do we?"

Lir sucks in a sharp breath and Dante punches his arm. "Watch the fucking language, kid," he says good-naturedly, then gives a wave as he hops down the steps.

She follows after, ignoring Dante when he holds his hand out to her. Instead she tugs her cardigan closed as they turn down the street. "They are a lovely family," Lir says.

"Yeah. Kid's got it nice now. And it's good that he does. He sure went through enough shit thanks to the Order."

Lir glances at him; his expression is guarded, not quite closed off, and she presses carefully. "What happened then? I know there were demons in the street, and a statue came to life, but the details weren't in the papers."

They pause at a crosswalk, and Dante watches the light. "A cult sprung up around my old man. Called him The Savior, built a church and a statue. Over time, I guess they got powerful enough that Fortuna couldn't do much about 'em. Anyway, they were turnin' themselves into demons, and they opened hell gates all over the city. I took care of those while Nero dealt with them. They'd raised him for years as a sacrifice." He pauses as they start to cross, then adds, "Not so different from you, I guess."

Lir stops, looking up at him in shock and hurt. "I'm not a sacrifice, Dante," she says harshly. 

He looks at her and shrugs. "You know what I mean."

"No I don't! I'm not . . ." She folds her arms and huffs, suddenly and furiously hurt. "I'm not anything."

"You're my wife. That's something." Lir stops on the sidewalk, and he continues on for a few steps before noticing and turning to face her. "I didn't want to push ya. I get it, I'm not the easiest person to talk to, and, honestly, I'm surprised you ain't cut and run yet. But something's buggin' you. Has been ever since yer mother called the shop. I thought comin' here would be nice for you, seein' the aquarium, maybe help you figure it out on your own."

"Dante," she whispers, clinging to herself.

"So, you can tell me, or not."

"Your wife," she murmurs. "Your wife. That's all I am, all I was meant to be."

"That's not what I—"

"Raised as a sacrifice, right?" Her lip trembles as she looks at him angrily. "A wife for you, to cook and clean and take care of the son of Sparda, right? Nothing else, nothing else wanted or needed."

Dante frowns. "What—"

"And you know the worst part about it?" Lir cries, her shouting actually drawing a few looks. Dante glances around, rubbing the back of his neck, just like Nero, and that makes her even angrier. Not caring about who is looking, she shouts, "You don't even care about Sparda! Or Ler, or any of it! It's all just a big dumb joke to you all, but this is my life!"

"Lir," he hisses, stepping closer and bending down. "You might not want to shout the name Sparda in the middle of the street."

"Why not? Let them hear about how useless he was at following through on his promises, or writing them down!" She stares up at him defiantly. "And you know what, Dante? It wasn't even necessary! They got it wrong! All we have to do is shake hands, and it's done, it's over with. So here!" Lir holds out her hand. "Shake and be done with it, and send me home. Just like you've wanted to do since I set foot in your shop."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He grabs her, not by the hand but by the arm, frowning down into her face. "What are you talking about?"

Lir grits her teeth. "We didn't have to marry. They had it wrong. So you'll be sending me back then, right? Well I'll save you the trouble, because I—I'm leaving."

Dante's eyes go wide. He drops his hand and takes a step back. "You're leaving?"

She presses her lips together, not knowing what to say. This isn't at all how she wanted to tell him, or do this—hell, she doesn't want to leave at all. But she is too angry now to back down, and Lir is afraid if she doesn't call her own bluff, she'll never be able to know for certain if Dante wants her, truly wants her. 

"Yes," she answers. "I was going to tell you when we got back, but . . ." Lir looks down so he won't see her eyes get watery. "This is for the best, Dante."

"What the fuck for?" He sounds confused and angry, but, worse, he sounds hurt, and she winces. "You said you didn't want to go back there. You said you wanted to stay."

"That was before."

"Before? Before what? Lir, if this is about us having sex—"

"It's not!" she insists. "It's . . . You always told me that you weren't the marrying type, and you didn't even want to do this until my parents showed up. Even then, it was just an obligation, so we don't have to . . . We don't have to keep doing this. I'll go home, and you can go back to the life you like without me in the way."

Dante shakes his head. "But Lir, I . . ."

"I should go back," she says, as if trying to convince herself. "I know you had this vacation planned, and the room . . . You can stay and I'll take the train back."

To her surprise, he reaches out and cradles her face in his hands. Lir blinks up at him, her heart pounding as he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. She sinks into his touch, daring to hope that he will ask her to stay. As he steps closer, his face inching towards her, she imagines he will kiss her, and tell her he wants her, and all of this will be okay.

"There's no trains this late," he says instead. "Come back to the room and stay the night. I'll take you back to the shop in the morning."

Miserably, she nods, and they finish the walk back to the hotel in a heavy, oppressive silence. The fact that there's only one bed—something she'd barely noticed before—sends a fresh wave of tears to her eyes, which she does her best swallow. The last thing she wants after making such a mess of things is to cause Dante any more discomfort, particularly on her account.

Dante glances between her and the bed. "I'll take the floor," he offers gruffly. "You'll need sleep if you're goin' home tomorrow."

"No, no it's fine—"

He doesn't answer, just disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Lir uses the opportunity to quickly change, pulling on a nightgown and stashing her clothes. She should pack, but Lir can't bring herself to do it, and when Dante finally emerges she rushes in for some peace so she can get herself together.

She brushes her teeth and washes her face, taking as much time as she can, not wanting to face him yet. When she has used up as much time as she thinks she can without him coming to find her, Lir turns off the light and opens the door.

Thankfully the room is dark, but when she makes her way to the bed she is surprised to find Dante on one side. Lir slips into the other, and without turning he mumbles, "Are you sure this is alright?"

"It's for the best," she answers uncertainly.

He huffs a humorless little laugh. "Best for who? You want to go back, that's one thing, but don't say it's for me. I already told you, I like havin' you around. Don't know how many times I have to say it before you believe it."

Lir rolls to her side and looks out the window. The lights of the city make the harbor glitter a bit, and suddenly she is homesick for her own seaside town. But the feeling is unwanted, mixing with wanting Red Grave, and the Devil May Cry, and Dante. He likes having her around . . . but that feels worse somehow.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she whispers.

"Figured she told you something when I saw your face after you hung up," he mutters. "Just don't do it again."

"Not just about that." Lir feels him shift, the bed dipping and sheets twisting as he rolls over, and she wonders if he's facing her, if she should do the same. "I don't want to go back. There's just . . . I feel so guilty about staying. Your whole life was upended over something that could have taken five seconds, you've had to deal with me and my family. It doesn't seem right to ask to stay after all of this."

She can practically hear him thinking, the subtle bob of his throat and the way he exhales slowly when deeply considering something. It's one of the things about him Lir didn't know she knew until she knew it, like how he likes his socks folded and that he likes peanut butter on top of jelly, not the other way around. She listens to him breathe and think and she thinks of more, like how he slouches when he's paying attention but sits forward when he's tired, how he dusts the picture on his desk every day without fail, how he purposefully leaves her snacks on the bottom shelves where she can reach. Her chest grows tight as she thinks about all the things she's learned about Dante, and how much more she wants to learn, but now she might not get the chance.

"I ain't chasing you, Lir," he murmurs. "If you want to go, if you feel that strongly about it, then you can go. I've said what I needed to say. Sleep on it tonight and you can decide in the morning."

She hears him shift again, rolling over, and Lir looks out the window. He's said his peace, except for the three words she's wanted to hear most.

[fyrapartnersearch]

historical dramas, alternate universes, video game fandoms, nhl & the crown

hello!

I’m going to make this fairly short (or at least try to haaA). I am looking for 1-2 new rp partners! I work two jobs and have a pretty active lifestyle so please understand this is a hobby for me. My posting speed ranges from once every couple of days to once every week or so, but I'll always let you know when I'm busy or hitting roadblocks. Some of my stories have really slowed down so I'm looking to have a rp going that is at a pace of at least 1-2 replies every couple of weeks.

I love detailed plots and stories; crafting good posts is a huge part of why I love rping. I match/mirror my partner’s length and put a high amount of importance on compatibility as writers. Good grammar, punctuation, spelling is A Thing for me. I put 110% in. I write fully lit to novella style rps with my posts ranging from 900-1800 words average. If you want a partner that’s invested in writing together and all the joy that brings, I’m your person!

I am looking for original period piece/historical drama roleplays full of drama and angst, fallout related roleplays, roleplays centered on fictional NHL players, slice-of-life or modern romances, and a few more.

what do I write?

I can write f/m, m/m, and m/f pairings- doesn't really matter to me so long as the plot and characters are compelling. I love smut just as much as anyone but I need a good story and solid character development to go back on. I want to feel something when we write and I hope you do too! I don't have a ton of limits when it comes to kink etc aside from the basic ones, but generally each of the characters I write have varied and different interests and preferences. I'm interested in writing the following fandoms right now:

Transformers personified: Essentially, utilizing characters from the Transformers universe to make characters and stories based off of them/using them in a personified manner. We could depict the war as a political one, or with warring armies, or anything we wanted to do. I'm most familiar with Transformers Prime, and I would be really excited to talk this one over with you!

Disney personified: Similar to the idea above, we take stories/characters and springboard them into our own content and plots. Let's talk it out!

The Outer Worlds: Admittedly I haven't finished the game yet, but I would love to do some character and world building here. Canon characters could be brought in if needed.

Fallout: New Vegas: I can do OCs for this, or I can play several canon characters such as Arcade Gannon, The King, and Cass. Either way, I'd be more than happy to plot with you in this world. I'm also interested in playing out a story related to Fallout 4, where I can play Elder Maxson or Paladin Danse, or we can write OCs.

X-Men: Give me all the plots utilizing Jean Grey or Wolverine, those are my favorite canon characters to write. I can also write OCs. I would also love to play Wolverine against a Jean Grey. All in all, I am a happy camper with this one.

The Crown/British Monarchy: I have a niche interest in the British monarchy and figures related to it, specifically George VI, Elizabeth II. I'd love to take the concepts and maybe the figures and write out some stories, historically-based or not, that involve some of the character types, situations and challenges faced. This idea is really flexible and I'd love to do some world-building here!

Mafia 2: I can write a pretty decent Vito Scaletta and I'd love to write him against your OC. We can take the premise and play with it, maybe make a spinoff or a sequel, something like that.

The Man in the High Castle: I would love, love, love to write something set in this universe. We'd definitely have to do some worldbuilding here but I would love to figure something out based around this universe and the characters in it.

Right now I also have a huge interest in doing period pieces/setting slice-of-life stories in different historical settings. I'd really love to do some plotting together and come up with an intriguing original story. I would love to do stories with the backdrop of the first or second world war, the great depression, the turn of the century, etc etc. I think so many of my plot ideas would be much more interesting placed against different historical settings. I'm most familiar with 1900-1960s backdrops but I would love to explore earlier (little women, or pride and prejudice-esque) eras as well! Pleeease get @ me if you're interested in a healthy dose of history with whatever twists we can come up with :) Here are a few plots/prompts to get started:

**** (m/m) sugar daddy: My oc is a law student studying in your oc’s country in order to get their degree abroad. They’re from eastern Europe and uh. broke af. They settle into an arrangement with your oc where your oc agrees to ~pay him for his company~. We could take it anywhere- your oc could whisk mine off his feet and ‘save’ him or. Be toxic & trashy and make my oc’s life hell.

****(m/m) the guardian: Your oc is a newcomer to the NHL but is quickly making waves- think Connor McDavid style. He’s young and impressive, but mostly, impressionable. he starts to get battered around by both his teammates and opposing teams. After a few hard hits and fowl play within the game that have cost your oc bench and recovery time, the team’s coach calls in reinforcements to boost the team’s morale and serve as a protector to your oc. My oc is a player who hasn’t got the talent part but has got a huge heart. Not to mention… huge hands. Good for makin’ fists. Good for fightin’. My oc protects your oc during the games, coming to your oc’s aid, picking fights for your oc and protecting him on the ice. As such, the two players grow attached to one another.. perhaps too attached for the captain to be comfortable with. Possibilities for a love triangle and other complications, for sure

***(m/m) too good to be true: Our ocs start out in the WHL, both as promising wingers. Their good chemistry is vital to bringing back their team’s success. However, one of our ocs starts to get too attached to the other, and when an NHL draft separates them, one of our ocs is all too eager to cut contact and try to forget. The two excel in their NHL careers without one another, and end up on NHL teams with a history of deep rivalry. Occasionally, the gloves hit the ice, fueled by the tension of unresolved feelings and the pressure of the respective teams to keep up the rivalry. The two are reunited when they are both chosen to play nationally for the same team, and are forced to reconcile what they have both buried so deeply within them.

***(m/m) big money: These two ocs play for rival teams in the nhl. while their teams have a history of tension, our two ocs take it to the next level. Audiences are more excited to watch these two fight than they are to watch the game itself. There’s a market in the violence between these two, and a reputation to maintain on both ends. If the public found out that these two were secretly seeing one another, their careers would both be over.

My oc has serious commitment issues. They often go around leaving individuals after 4-5 dates, with little to no explanation of why. Your oc falls for mine, and is the first to confront my oc about their shitty habits.

Your oc is a huge fan of my oc’s hockey or political career. Your oc wins a contest to meet and have dinner with my oc. While my oc expects a boring night out, my oc is completely surprised by how well they hit it off with your oc.

My oc, your first oc and your second oc all grew up together. Your first oc has always been pining for my oc’s attention, and is thrilled when my oc and your first oc finally get together. They develop a long term relationship, but my oc knows it would devastate your first oc if they told them that they have been seeing your second oc for most of the relationship.

My oc and your oc are in an arranged marriage. My oc is actually a spy on your oc's national government. Espionage, reconnaissance, and betrayal abound.

My oc is royalty (think British monarchy) and yours is, absolutely not; either a reporter, a soldier, maybe a business person. My oc has taken interest in yours as a friend to keep them grounded... or as a thin veil for a romance that absolutely no one would approve of.

As for general OC ideas, here’s a list:

street racing, fast-and-furious-esque setting

small town canadiana or americana

fun, fluffy romance based modern settings

light worldbuilding - new to this but wanting to learn

WWI / WWII history based

something based around the Titanic (I know, so cheesy)

alternate history — I would love to work on doing some worldbuilding with you and creating some kind of retro-futuristic alt history IE fallout before the nukes dropped.

estate drama — something akin to Downton Abbey but with our own spin on it

honestly whatever you can pitch to me that isn’t high fantasy :)

I can expand on and work with any of these ideas, these are just topics. Whatever I do with you, I promise it’ll be fleshed out, with tons of opportunity for drama.

how do we get started?

Pleaaase send me an email at ehmmywrites@gmail.com; I can give you my discord if we hit it off. Please give me some of your thoughts/an idea of why/what you’d like to write with me! I can write over discord or email or both. We can sort out the brass tacks there and figure out if we’re a good match. :) Thanks for your time and I hope I hear from you!

[jackjots]

#1 Podcast

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

Day #1 “Podcast”: 

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

There’s a driveway about one mile long that cuts into a foothill that surrounds Connor Creek. At the end of the driveway, is a small cabin with a garden that is as simple and as boring as a garden can be. 

When I, Shelby St. Ranger, moved there it had been an overgrown mess of something that had once been someones complex and colorful paradise. I’d left it for a little while, but eventually it depressed me to walk by the dead plants so I bought some gloves and gardening tools and tore everything up. It took up a weekend, which was good, since there wasn’t a lot to do in Connor Creek. This in itself was supposed to be a good thing, so I could work on my novel. Although my characters would often be battling each other and drinking mead in great viking halls, my own life was simple and plodded along. I’d moved from the city once I could afford to, and it was fairly cheap to live in Connor Creek so it actually had been a smart choice in many ways. But I hadn’t expected to be so deeply, deeply bored. I’d discovered the walk to town was pleasant, as not many cars went on the main road, and it helped when I hit writing blocks or just pure FOMO (fear of missing out) that was unfounded as the town inched along as much as I did. This was especially needed at night.

The only place open after 5pm was the Dead Canary. Despite my boredom, I’ve always been an introvert, so I kept to myself. Unfortunately, everyone already knew who I was before I had even moved in. It only took two visits before the bartender would greet me with my usual order and give me a quick “How’s it goin’ Shelby?” It became a habit for me to sit in the least visible place in the corner of a booth and write down little ideas that would pop into my head.

One night, a man with the energy of a rabbit came in and spotted me. “You’re the new one in town, Shelby right?” 

“Yes?” I had pushed my notebook aside, a very detailed doodle of a hexagon that had eyeballs betraying the fact that I couldn’t think of anything to write at the time. 

“My name is Ryan Reynolds. I’m running for town council, I was wondering if you’d heard about the race?”

I nodded. “I’ve seen the posters.” 

“Good. Can I count on your vote?” 

“I’ll have to do research first, I can’t just vote for you because you introduced yourself to me.”

His eyebrows almost hit his hairline. “Fair. Fair, very fair. Just do your research...how do you plan to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Your research.” 

“I imagine on the internet?”

“It’s so spotty. And believe me, if you google my name, it can be very confusing.”

“Right.”

“So you’re better off asking me questions directly.”

“Can I do it some other time? I’m working.” I sipped on my beer. 

“Of course! Anytime. You know, there’s people coming to record a podcast about what’s going on here at Connor Creek.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you all about it, tomorrow night?”

“Sure.” He went back to the bar and his voice became white noise as I started back to my notebook and slowly the characters in my head came back to me and I wrote a few paragraphs. 

Unfortunately, I never had that second talk with Ryan Reynolds. 

I had struggled back and forth with myself if I should go into town that next night. I didn’t usually go two days in a row, but I’d already written 20 pages that day and felt like a drink was well deserved. However, the idea of talking about local town politics did not appeal to me. I thought if I went early, I’d probably miss him. Which was true, but not for the reasons I thought.

I was almost done with my beer, and had taken to drawing those S things I’d mastered in elementary school when I heard the door and the voice of Sheriff Madison. I peeked around the corner and saw two people with their backs to me. I didn’t recognize them, and realized I was acting like a nosey local, so I went back to my doodles. 

That was when I heard they were working on a podcast. Intrigued, I jotted down their names and the company they worked for. I’d have to wait until I was back home to try to connect to the internet to look them up. It would probably be a frustrating endeavor, but my interest was piqued for the first time outside my novel in the months I’d lived in Connor Creek. Why would anyone from the city cover the election in such a small town? There had to be more going on. Or maybe I was just creating something to get excited about. I sighed and tore the page, crumpled it up, and put it in my pocket. It was an old habit to put trash in my pocket, from years of don’t litter training pounded in my head. 

I tried to sneak out, but as soon as I got through the door, I heard someone scream.  I didn’t meet with Ryan again, because he was dead outside. I saw the podcast people come out and I watched as the town started to spill out around the scene. I walked home, feeling a bit numb. I had been avoiding him, and now he was dead. I don’t know why I felt guilty, but I did. 

On my way home, there was a crumpled paper white against the grass, dimly lit by the moon. Above the paper was a bush of white roses that made the paper stand out even more. I picked it up out of habit, but before I stuck it in my pocket I noticed print on it and opened it up. Ryan Reynolds’ face stared up at me from his campaign poster. I folded it and put it in my pocket. 

I logged online and started looking up information about the election, but as Ryan had suggested, it was impossible to find anything about him. And the town was hardly on the net. I’d have to go to the library, I decided, like it was the 90s again. I sighed and slumped back in my chair. Something in my pocket poked me and I took out the crumped piece of paper that said “Artemis and Paul” and “APN”. I typed the names into the search engine and drummed my thumbs as the search went through. It took a while to load them, but I started to listen to Artemis and Paul’s old podcasts, and found four hours had passed. I learned they were twins, and that Artemis was always digging into even the smallest stories for some meat, while Paul seemed happy with making puns and observations that always gave the stories a lively feel I enjoyed. 

Finally turning it off, I saw how late it was and almost got up from the computer when I thought more about Ryan Reynolds. I didn’t know much about the town and had become expert at avoiding hearing gossip, which was also easy as they were still weary of me - except for the Miner Mole owner Titus Makin. He’d been very welcoming, but he kind of reminded me of a snake. He mostly wanted to talk about city life since he knew that’s where I was from, but was very disappointed that I didn’t share his views that the town needed to grow more. I’d been at the bar (a mistake I stopped making soon after and started hiding in the shadows of the booths) when Titus had sat next to me and waxed on about progress. I said I moved to Connor Creek for a reason, and that reason was peace, quiet, and trees. That’s all I had wanted. Now that I thought about it, that was the night Desmond, the bartender, started to treat me like a regular. That suggested something that started to put other pieces into place. I looked up Miner Mole, and found some talk online about them changing the face of Connor Creek through the silver mines. The idea of the town changing rapidly didn’t appeal to me, as I’d left all of the behind for a reason, and I found a new appreciation for boredom at the worry that I would soon find myself in a bustling budding city. But what did this have to do with Ryan Reynolds' death? And why was there investigative podcasters here before he was even dead? 

I set my alarm for a trip to the library the next day, and found some sleep deep in my bed covers. 

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1974

Under the cut.

Steve Miller Band – “The Joker” -- January 12, 1974

It always throws me when I remember how old this song is. Two years older than me, and yet I associate it with my own mid-20s partying. Okay, my "partying" was pretty mild. One of the things my friends and I often did was go to a dueling piano (really keyboard) bar, and they always played this song. I can taste the rum and Coke now. We had tipsy discussions about what "pompatus" meant. A guy tried to pick one of my friends up with "really love your peaches." Anyway, I love this song, but it's also so embedded into my life that I can't judge it fairly.

Al Wilson – “Show And Tell” -- January 19, 1974

1970s Philly R&B is great music. This is a pretty typical example of the genre; lots of strings, lots of horns, an adult with a voice he uses like an instrument to impart strong emotions. It's a love song, and the lyrics aren't anything spectacular, but they do the job. Very good.

Ringo Starr – “You’re Sixteen” -- January 26, 1974

GAH. Next!

Barbra Streisand – “The Way We Were” -- February 2, 1974

I was tempted to write, "GAH. Next!" here too, but I'm determined to save that kind of thing for songs that have elements to them that I don't want to discuss because of moral issues. That's not this. The problem is: I hate Barbra Streisand. Or I should say I hate her singing; though from what I've seen of her personality, I don't like that either. Every song she sings, she sounds like she's singing to the glory of the greatness of the only person who matters to her in the world: Barbra Streisand. I once read an article that called her singing "masturbatory," but that's not strong enough. It's full-on self-worship. I hate it.

The Love Unlimited Orchestra – “Love’s Theme” -- February 9, 1974

This is Barry White's orchestra, but sadly it's an instrumental, without his glorious voice. It reminds me so much of the Love Boat theme that now I'm wanting to watch it. Absolute kitsch, but as kitsch goes, there's worse.

Terry Jacks – “Seasons In The Sun” -- March 2, 1974

The singer is dying and saying goodbye to everyone. That kind of sentiment may be made to work in pop, I suppose, but I've never heard it done. It belongs in opera. This is schmaltz.

Cher – “Dark Lady” -- March 23, 1974

As one of only a couple dark-haired dark-eyed girls in my quite blonde high school graduating class, people used to call me "exotic." Apparently my high cheekbones had something to do with it too. I was asked where my family was from pretty regularly. I wasn't offended --  more bemused. The answer is "Europe," though I guess the dark hair and eyes are probably by way of France. It's rather tough to say, considering my mother's side of the family has been here since the 16th century (indentured servants), and were not the rich types who stuck to their own ethnicity. Anyway, this is to say that I feel some kinship with Cher, and how drawn she was to songs like "Dark Lady." Though in this case, the "dark lady" is someone Cher's character murders for cheating with her boyfriend. She kills the boyfriend too.

This song is dated ("gypsy music") Las Vegas cheese, and yet I like it. It's wildly melodramatic and fun.

John Denver – “Sunshine On My Shoulders” -- March 30, 1974

Bleeeeeh. I like big melodramatic songs. This is the opposite. Now, I do like small, sweet songs often too. But I just can't with this one. It's too slow, too simple, and feels aggressively, shallowly cheery.

Blue Swede – “Hooked On A Feeling” -- April 6, 1974

I learned from the Todd in the Shadows video about this song that its stupid "ooga chaka" thing was inspired by 1960's "Running Bear." Now I hate it even more! The original of this song is a nice, simple love song. Blue Swede made it shouty and dumb.

Elton John – “Bennie And The Jets” -- April 13, 1974

It's Elton John. Therefore I don't like it. I feel like it's too slow maybe? I feel like most of Elton John's songs are too slow maybe. I don't know. I'm bored.

MFSB & The Three Degrees’ “TSOP (The Sound Of Philadelphia)” -- April 20, 1974

An instrumental disco track. It is one I find danceable, so there's that. Not bad.

Grand Funk – “The Loco-Motion” -- May 4, 1974

A rock cover of The Loco-Motion. Sure, why not. Though this version is not very good. It feels like they slowed it down, and they definitely made it extremely loud. I don't really see a reason for this song to exist.

Ray Stevens – “The Streak” -- May 18, 1974

Streaking was a fad in 1974. This is a comedy song about it. I had never heard it before this, and I hope never to again. It's deeply dumb.

Paul McCartney & Wings – “Band On The Run” -- June 8, 1974

The wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo thing at the beginning of the song sounds neat, but then it goes on too long. That's my feeling about this entire song: It goes on too long. It does change up substantially multiple times throughout, but it's no Bohemian Rhapsody. Bohemian Rhapsody is, imo, perfect. The pacing of "Band on the Run," otoh, is a mess. The second section needs to be a lot longer and the final section needs to be a lot shorter. Paul McCartney needed an editor for this.

Bo Donaldson And The Heywoods – “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero” -- June 15, 1974

A young woman tells her boyfriend to not "be a hero" when he goes off to war (probably the Civil War.) Because she wants him to come home alive. As anyone who knows this kind of song can predict, he decides to be a hero and dies. Cliche and weirdly bouncy for the subject matter. Still, at least songs were acknowledging that dying in war was not a great thing. Unlike the putrescent "Ballad of the Green Berets."

Gordon Lightfoot – “Sundown” -- June 29, 1974

The singer is jealously obsessed with a woman. He knows this isn't a good thing, but he doesn't seem able to -- or be trying to -- move past it. This is about something real; Gordon Lightfoot was obsessively, violently jealous over Cathy Smith, the woman who was later convicted for injecting John Belushi with the heroin that killed him. The lyrics are mean, but the music doesn't go hard at all. Except, compared to the rest of the stuff I've looked at for 1974 so far, the music does sound a lot harder -- it's minor key and there's a distinct bassline. It still feels like a mismatch.

The Hues Corporation – “Rock The Boat” -- July 6, 1974

A disco song I can dance to some. Not entirely. It's a song asking you not to "rock the boat" of your perfect love with the singer. It's incredibly schmaltzy -- schmaltzy disco. Ugh.

George McCrae – “Rock Your Baby” -- July 13, 1974

The singer is telling you, "woman," to take him in your arms and rock him. I.e. fuck him. I have perfect pitch. George McCrae is no Ella Fitzgerald. When he goes to the high note, he does not hit it right, and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I can't listen to this song all the way through.

John Denver – “Annie’s Song” -- July 27, 1974

Ugh, 1974. This is a simplistic love song to John Denver's wife. Not just simple, which is fine, but simplistic, which is not. They divorced years later, and Denver became violent during it. (Denver's the one who brought that to light and he obviously felt terrible about it.) The Stereogum guy was shocked by this. I'm not. For one, celebrity is horrible for people. For another, I can't think of any of Denver's songs that have depth or complexity. Trying to live at the surface is also horrible for people. I do like a lot of simple love songs, but John Denver's songs have always made me go "ick," even when I was a child. I feel like there's nothing in them.

Roberta Flack – “Feel Like Makin’ Love” -- August 10, 1974

The music to this song, with the calm but interesting percussion and romantic guitar, combined with Roberta Flack's whispery vocals, is lovely. It gives me asmr feels and makes me want to lie down and drift off to sleep. So, uh. Not exactly what I consider a sexy song. I do like listening to it, as it's nice and calming, but I don't think that was the intent.

Paper Lace – “The Night Chicago Died” -- August 17, 1974

And I will definitely need some relaxation after this garbage. Okay so, this travesty was by Brits who: 1) Thought there was an East Side of Chicago. That's Lake Michigan. 2) Thought it would be cute to write a song in which Al Capone tried to literally take over Chicago by killing all the cops (he bribed cops, he didn't kill them, and he was a criminal, not an insurrectionary.) 3) Sing "glory be" because they obviously think that's a super American thing to do. "In the land of the dollar bill." WHAT? This song makes me want to punt Paper Lace into the East Side of Chicago.

Paul Anka – “(You’re) Having My Baby” -- August 24, 1974

Notoriously one of the worst pop songs ever. The singer thinks "you" (that makes it worse) are having his baby solely and only because you love him. Monumental narcissism, just completely heinous, plus it's musical glop.

Eric Clapton – “I Shot The Sheriff” -- September 14, 1974

This is not Bob Marley's version. Bob Marley's version is so much better, and it's the one I've heard a lot, so when I turned this one on I was confused for a second.

Barry White – “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe” -- September 21, 1974

Oh thank god. Barry White is one of my favorite singers, and this is one of my favorite songs. This is a sexy love song by a great artist.

Andy Kim – “Rock Me Gently” -- September 28, 1974

Andy Kim's voice sounds incredibly mid-70s. What's with men asking their lovers to rock them this year? The chorus is pretty good, and has a real beat. He's asking his lover to be gentle, and "I have never been loved like this before." That's nice. It's cheese, but it's fine.

Olivia Newton-John – “I Honestly Love You” -- October 5, 1974

A lot of the time when someone says they "honestly" something without prompting, they're lying. So this song sounds weird to me. "I love you/ I honestly love you" -- um, you sure about that? Though the singer has no reason to pretend she loves the person she's singing to, and every reason not to, since they're both with someone else. She just wants to tell you she loves you and leave it at that. Yeah, that's likely. Olivia Newton-John is a good singer, and she's especially good at acting a song. I feel she should have been on Broadway. In any case, while this is a slow soft song in an era with way too many of those, it's one of the better ones. It's not overly slow or particularly goopy.

Billy Preston – “Nothing From Nothing” -- October 19, 1974

If there's such a thing as vaudeville rock, this is it. He doesn't want to be your hero or your highness, so it sounds like he wants an equal relationship. He also says "I'm a soldier in the war on poverty," which makes it sounds like he's saying you have to have money if you want to get with him, but maybe not. He sings "you gotta bring a little something, girl, if you want to be with me," which may or may not be monetary. It's bouncy and all, but Billy Preston's done better.

Dionne Warwick & The Spinners – “Then Came You” -- October 26, 1974

A song about finally finding love. Plenty of good orchestration, a good beat, and of course Dionne Warwick's voice. I like it.

Stevie Wonder – “You Haven’t Done Nothin'” -- November 2, 1974

The "you" in this song is Richard Nixon. Stevie Wonder is one of the most love everyone, let's all come together artists in existence. But here, he was angry. "We would not care to wake up to the nightmare/ That's becoming real life/ But when misled who knows a person's mind/ Can turn as cold as ice." The Republican Party is still Nixon's party -- they love him almost as much as they do Reagan. This song is funky and good and the only reason I don't feel it more is that it's not angry enough.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive – “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” -- November 9, 1974

They were goofing around in the studio, and lead singer Randy Bachman wanted to make fun of his brother's stutter. When this song became a hit, Randy was mortified. But even with nasty, juvenile intentions behind it, this song is good. It also sounds happy and not mean at all. It's a rather silly song about first experiencing sex, and it's fun.

John Lennon – “Whatever Gets You Thru The Night” -- November 16, 1974

John Lennon's voice was always kinda nasal, but it's really nasal on this song. Anyway, this song may as well be called "you do you." It's a song that in theory I should not find boring, but in practice I do. I have finally found out why: Elton John helped him with it. It sounds very Elton John-ish. Which means I don't really have anything else to say.

Billy Swan – “I Can Help” -- November 23, 1974

Some old-fashioned rockability is a nice change. The singer sees that the woman needs some help, so "let me help." "I got two strong arms/ Let me help." I immediately think of a romance between a farmhand and a widow woman. "It would sure do me good to do you good." That's a pretty concise description of love. Billy Swain's voice is kinda thin; Elvis did a cover of this, and it's a lot better. Billy Swain's version is sweet and all, but Elvis' is irresistible.

Carl Douglas – “Kung Fu Fighting” -- December 7, 1974

This isn't a song about actual kung fu; it's about kung fu movies. It's a fanboy telling you all about the cool movie he just saw, though not telling you a thing about the plot. Just the "expert timing" and stuff. Trying to analyze "Kung Fu Fighting" feels really silly. It's a rare enjoyable novelty song by an actual musician.

Harry Chapin – “Cat’s In The Cradle” -- December 21, 1974

A cover of this song by Ugly Kid Joe became a hit in 1992. And it was massively overplayed, so I hate this song. This father/son stuff bores me anyway, speaking of overplayed.

Helen Reddy – “Angie Baby” -- December 28, 1974

This song is deeply strange, which is a mark in its favor. It's a story song about a girl who has no friends and had to be taken out of school because she's "a little touched." She lives in a world of make-believe, listening to the radio all the time. A neighbor boy comes along to rape her. But as soon as he walks into her room... "Toward the radio he's bound/ Never to be found." He becomes her "secret lover," trapped in the radio. "It's so nice to be insane/ No one asks you to explain." Is Angie really "insane," or is she a sorceress whose rock n' roll powers everyone looks away from? Both? I'm not sure what I think of this song, but it is interesting, and that's always good.

BEST OF 1974 -- "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe" by Barry White WORST OF 1974 -- "(You're) Having My Baby" by Paul Anka

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Bit of Light Reading (Cu Chulainn, Rin)

She’d settled into a seat by the window this morning.

The steam from her tea was wafting nicely as the music played quietly in the background.  The rain was falling lightly, creating a gentle pitter pattering sound as she held the book in her hands.

Originally, she’d planned to go out and get some shopping done with Sakura. They’d promised one another that they would traverse through the stores and shop until they dropped. It’d been so long since they’d really had fun like that. Both of them had been counting down the days.

However, the phone had rang early that morning.

Thinking back on it now, Rin could only sigh as she sipped her tea.

“I’m really sorry,” Sakura had told her, stopping her in her attempts to hurry to climb out of bed. “I wanted to go shopping today, but… Medusa is feeling really sick today and she’s trying to go to work. It’s so bad, Rin.”

“She’s sick?”

“Yeah. I’m going to stay home today to make sure that she rests in bed and gets better.”

The deep amber color of her tea felt so much darker from the lack of light outside. The dreary day only seemed to be adding to her mood as Rin found herself unable to focus on the book she’d randomly plucked from the shelf. It’d been something that Sakura had gotten her.

“It’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Rin had found herself telling the girl. “You need to take care of her.”

She’d hoped that they could go get their hair done today. Maybe hit a movie up in the afternoon. They could wander through the market and maybe get some organic foods before heading home…

“You’re right!” Sakura’s voice agreed. “Thank you, Rin! I’ll do my best to take care of Medusa and maybe we can go next weekend.”

She’d given up on dressing then, opting to grab her bathrobe.

“Besides!” The girl on the other end of the line had laughed. “You have that florist with the blue hair to visit today! I’m sure he’d probably love to see you!”

Just thinking about those words made her face feel warm.

Cu Chulainn and her… well, they’d just…

It wasn’t like she called him often…

It wasn’t that serious!

They were just enjoying one another’s company! That was all. That was it. Together, the two of them enjoyed going out to eat or getting into trouble now and again. They were just spending time together. If they were serious, then the man would have her number!

…he did have her number.

OH! But they’d remain in her home sometimes for their get togethers!

…No, that didn’t work either. She did that.

He’d leave things?

Her eyes drifted to the blue winter coat hanging near the door.

No, that didn’t work either.

Rin turned her attention to the rain a bit more, sipping at her tea as she tried to think of how to save herself from worrying about Sakura’s words.

If she was serious about Cu Chulainn, then the man would have a key to her home. He’d sleep in her bed and they’d…

They’d…

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

The tea went flying from her hands the moment she heard his voice behind her. The book, which had been so nicely nestled on her lap, fell to the floor, falling open as the man laughed a little.

“DAMN IT, CU!” She pounded at his chest. “WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SCARING ME!”

“Oi! You were thinking so deeply that you didn’t even hear me! I announced myself! GEEZ!”

His hands grabbed hers, stopping her assault.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“My shift ended. I heard ol’ Rider was sick and came here since that little friend of yours is over there.”

She had to take a minute to process that.

His shift was over? How could his shift be over? He’d told her last night in bed that he was going to be working until the early afternoon! He shouldn’t have-

“Woman, do you even know what time it is?”

Her eyes fell to the clock nearby.

Four.

“I-I just lost track of time,” she growled, pulling her hands back. She needed to stop this. Looking at him shouldn’t have made her feel like moving closer. His hold on her shouldn’t have made her heart flutter like that.

“Oh yeah?”

“I was reading a book. I just got caught up in the plot and ended up losing track of time a bit. It’s fine.”

The man’s eyes drifted down to the book before he raised a brow. “Oh yeah? How’s the book?”

He’s calling my bluff!

“I-It’s incredibly deep. The main character is someone I can relate with deeply and their experiences are ones that are making me think a lot about my own life and relationships. I-It’s a bit complex though. I don’t think you’d like it.”

Vague enough to work, he would probably change the subject-

“Huh.”

His hands released her before plucking the book from the floor.

“I’ve heard of this book. Kama Sutra. It’s supposed to be a sex book, isn’t it?”

A…

A sex…

“GIVE ME THAT!”

“OI OI!” Cu held the book high overhead, his voice echoing through the house. “YOU SAID IT WAS DEEP! I’M TRYIN’ TO HAVE A CONVERSATION!”

No no no no no! She must have grabbed the wrong book earlier! That was something she’d bought because Cu was spending so much time at her house and sleeping next to her in bed. She’d wanted to know how to do-

“CU!”

“OI! AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE SOME DAMN LADY OR SOMETHIN’!?!”

“GIVE ME THE DAMN BOOK, CU!”

The book fell out of his hands as they argued, falling open…

Open to a very risqué picture.

Those red eyes were practically gleaming.

“…Relate deeply, huh?”

She wasn’t going to say a damn thing.

“…makin’ ya think a lot about your experiences and relationships, huh?”

She was going to kill him.

“…I don’t have anything planned for the rest of the day… Since your sister bailed, we could ah- attempt some of those deep experiences.”

Why do I like this man so much?!

[etherealwaifgoddess]

What He Wants (Pt. 18)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary:  On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: LEMONSSSS! Finally! 

Word Count: 2062

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Well, our boy survived the trip to Target and now it’s time to really settle in. We’ve had our two main characters dancing around each other for 17 chapters and I think I’ve drug things on enough... it’s time for some lemons. Please know I am grinning ear to ear as I post this because even though it’s just a small lemon, I really love it. Prepare yourselves lovelies.... Bucky Barnes is a talker. 

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: 1 2 3 4 5 67 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

XOXO - Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 18

Back at your apartment Bucky stares at his bags on the bed while you put away groceries in the kitchen. He’s not used to this domesticity, having to share space with someone. He doesn’t know how to do this and the thought that he wants to learn frightens him a little. Looking at all the things he picked up it feels like he’s rebuilt himself a brand new life here with you. Bucky knows he’s overthinking it but he can’t stop himself. You find him in there some time later, lost in thought. You press a hand to his arm, getting his attention. Bucky starts a little and looks at you, lost and waiting for you to help steer him in the right direction. “I don’t…. I don’t know how to do this.” he says motioning towards the piles of stuff on the bed. 

“Me neither.” you tell him honestly, “But I want to figure it out, with you.”

Bucky pulls you against him, burying his face in your neck. “Me too.” he says whisper soft against your skin. 

And together you do. Slowly you start moving your belongings around to make room for his. It’s surprising how easily his things fit in around yours and your heart softens at the sight of his toothbrush sitting next to yours. He has his own dresser drawers for his clothes, his shampoo and soap have their own shelf in the shower, and he even pulled out the picture of him and Steve from his duffle to put on his nightstand. 

You never expected to have this in your life. Your ability makes it hard to connect with people in a normal way and you were always slightly on edge, not knowing if or when you’d be called out for another mission. It makes sense, you muse to yourself, that only someone involved in this life would be able to fit into yours. He knows you are retired now but you wonder if he will be called away at any moment. He’s made no indication that he plans to take another job anytime soon but there’s always that risk, especially for an Avenger. 

You find Bucky taking a few tentative steps across the living room without the crutch and you marvel at how quickly he’s healed from such an intense injury. The grin on his face when he sees you makes your heart skip a beat, he’s happy, genuinely happy. In your little apartment out in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, with you. You decide that it doesn’t matter if you are rushing things, you want him in your world. Regardless of how long he stays or how wrecked your heart might get in the process, it’s going to be worth it. 

“How’s it feel?” you ask him.

Bucky takes a few more steps until he’s back to the sofa, “Not too bad. Still sore but it’s manageable.” 

“Good. I’m still amazed by how quickly you heal.” You join him on the sofa and reach for your book but Bucky pulls you against him so you’re laying against his chest across his lap. “Whoa, careful, I’m heavy.” you protest.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, “You are not too heavy to sit on top of me. Super soldier, remember?” 

“I know, but still. I’m not exactly a tiny woman.” 

“Mouse, you are at least a foot shorter than me.” 

You groan, he’s intentionally taking your words wrong. “Bucky, you know what I mean.”

“Nope, not at all. You are absolutely perfect sitting here on top of me. I could toss you like a baseball if I needed to.” 

“Yeah, okay.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“Are you doubting my super strength, doll? Because I’ll have you know Steve once stopped a helicopter from taking off with his bare hands. And between you and me, I’ve always been stronger than Steve.” Bucky’s smile fades with a subtle sadness brought on by the thought of his friend but he doesn’t seem to be dwelling on it.

“Braggart.” you tease him. 

“You know it.” His grin returns and he reaches for the remote to flip on the television. “So tell me, mouse, what should we not watch this afternoon?” 

You laugh at Bucky’s cockiness and help him select a movie to put on. He likes sci-fi movies and you settle for a classic from the 80’s he’s never seen. Bucky was right about not watching the movie, you only last twenty minutes until his hands trailing across your body become too distracting. He’s an incredible tease and you squirm in his lap at the light contact of his fingers brushing across your sides. Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist and uses his right arm to roll you both over so you’re lying on the sofa, under him. You can’t stop how your breathing quickens with him over top of you. He’s a wall of pure muscle and is throwing off body heat like a furnace. 

Bucky runs his right hand from your hip up to your breast and you tremble under his touch, a little gasp escaping your throat as he runs his thumb right across your nipple. His eyes are burning with lust when he dips his mouth down to trail kisses from the tops of your breasts that peek out of your shirt, up your throat. You moan lightly when his mouth sucks against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and Bucky’s hips grind against your thighs instinctively at the sound. His pulls back, breathing as heavy as you are now, “Those noises are killin’ me, doll.” he says with a groan.

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out. 

Bucky chuckles, “Don’t be, it’s just makin’ it hard for me to take this slow. I don’t wanna rush you, doll.” 

“You’re not. I want…” you trail off and blush. He’s so close to your face, his body plastered against yours. It’s intensely intimate in a way you’ve never experienced before. 

Bucky’s grin is cheshire, “What do you want, mouse?” 

“Whatever you’ll give me.” you tell him honestly. 

“Oh, mouse, I want to give you all sorts of things. But we don’t have to rush. Do you know what I want?”

You shake your head quickly, very interested in where his mind is going.  

 “I want… your name.” Bucky peppers your chest and throat with small kisses, “Your real name, mouse. So I know what to call out later when I come.” 

You are certain you’ve blushed yourself into a deep shade of scarlet that’s never been seen before. You remind yourself to breath as you maintain eye contact with him. His eyes never waiver, he just waits patiently for your answer. You give him your name and his eyes close for a moment like he’s savoring it. He says it a few times as he kisses you deeply, testing the feel of it across his lips. You don’t think you’ve ever heard it said so passionately before and it makes your toes curl. 

“You tell me to stop if I go too far, okay? I just wanna feel you, mouse, make you feel good.” Bucky says, and you nod. You know he’d respect you and stop if you asked and it helps you relax a little as his right hand slips inside your jeans. He toys with the waistband of your panties, running two fingers between them and your skin. You try not to squirm but find it almost impossible. Bucky loves watching your face as he touches you, even though he’s sure it unnerves you a little. Your eyes are so expressive and he loves seeing you react to him. He brings his hand over top your panties first, cupping you and stroking you gently. Your body jerks beneath him involuntarily and you gasp. 

“Doin’ okay, doll?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties again. His Brooklyn accent thickens as he loses himself to his arousal and you love the rough sound of it. You nod, unable to form real words as you pant beneath him. Bucky finally ventures underneath your panties and strokes your naked sex with his long fingers. He groans as he parts your folds and feels how slick you already are. “Oh, doll. You are so perfect. Oh, jests. So wet for me already.” He continues running his fingers across the sensitive area before dipping just the tip of one finger inside you. “Fuck.” he groans again. “You okay with this?” he asks and you nod again. “Oh, thank you, doll. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” His tone is caught between relief, reverence, and desperation, and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks ache. 

You note to yourself with amusement that Bucky Barnes is quite the talker when he’s riled up. He can’t seem to keep quiet and you are starting to find you enjoy it. You thought you hated dirty talk but Bucky’s endless stream-of-consciousness rambling is turning you on even more than you already were. You’re broken out of your thoughts when Bucky plunges two long, thick fingers inside you, curling them upwards once fully inside. Your body rocks beneath him, overwhelmed at the sensation. He moves them in and out gently, curling as he goes and you feel like you’re going to combust from the pleasure. Bucky adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm is rubbing against your clit as he thrust his fingers. You shake uncontrollably and turn your head to the side, unable to contain yourself. You can feel Bucky’s hard length against your thigh as he grinds against you in rhythm with the movement of his hand. He’s rock solid and even between both of your jeans you can feel how long and wide he is. Every so often his body trembles too and you think he must be working himself as well while he brings you closer and closer to your release.

Bucky continues to kiss your throat and the tops of your breasts as his hand works your sex. “Go ahead, sweetheart, let yourself go. I want to feel you come around my fingers.” he coaxes you and you’re teetering on the brink of an orgasm. Your breaths are rapid and shallow, you can’t control the gasps and moans which are constant now as he gets you right on the edge of where he wants you. Your hips thrust back against his hand, increasing the pressure of him against your thigh as well. He grunts and speeds up his motions. “Come on, sweetheart. Come for me.” he all but begs. You grip your hands onto his shoulders and cry out his name as the orgasm wracks your body. You writhe against him as he draws out the orgasm longer than you thought possible and you hear him groan loudly, “Oh fuck. Fuck, doll. Oh…” his body shudders and he gasps out your name as he goes rigid for a moment and collapses, barely stopping to support himself in time so he doesn’t crush you. 

After a moment of catching his breath he gently slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth. With a deviant smile he pops them in his mouth, savoring the taste of you on his fingers. “You’re so sweet, doll. Like honey.” he tells you. 

You turn your head to the side again, avoiding his gaze. “Bucky…” you whine his name, it’s slightly embarrassing and you blush hard.

“Alright, alright.” he complies and pulls himself off of you to sit upright on the sofa. You sit up next to him, a satisfied grin on your face. He shifts uncomfortably and you notice the large, wet, stain all down the left leg of his jeans. 

“Oh.” is all you manage to say and you know you’re staring. 

Bucky chuckles at your reaction, “What can I say, doll. You got me all worked up too.”  He stands, testing his weight on his right leg before he takes a step with his crutch. “I’m gonna go clean up if you want to pick a new movie. Maybe one we’ll actually watch.” 

“I was going to start lunch first.” you tell him.

“Good thinking, mouse. We got all that lunch meat today if you wanna make sandwiches.”

“Okay” you nod and Bucky heads off to the bedroom.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty@ladyemofhousestark@abswritesfandoms@rupestria

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Spider-Man: Life Story #4 Thoughts

*graons*

Positives out of the way.

Bagley’s art+Bagley’s rendition of Morlun+the armoured looks of some of Tony’s squad.

Okay now onto the negatives.

I think I might’ve figured out what the REAL premise of Life Story is.

‘What if Spider-Man didn’t have the illusion of change and therefore everything was terrible so readers will now just accept the illusion of change forever’.

Seriously that makes the most sense at this point.

The illusion of change isn’t there and so everyone ages and everything falls to shit.

Spider-Man gets divorced, his child dies, his brother dies, etc.

But if that wasn’t the point then Zdarsky continues to make Life Story a total clown show.

He is consistent in only the following regards.

a)      Events from Spider-Man history happen randomly differently from how they happened in canon even though that wasn’t how the series was advertised to us

b)      Superheroes have a more realistic impact upon the real world except not really, it’s basically as realistic as Zdarsky wants it to be because fuck world building and consistency I guess

c)       Real life history is toxically inconsistent within the context of a world of heroes where things are different

d)      The story is inconsistent even in and of itself

e)      Peter Parker is an irresponsible, dumb asshole

f)       Various elements of the story have no intersection with one another. Remember how Flash died in Vietnam and this had...nothing to do with Miles Warren cloning Gwen????

Lets kick off with two things that can be looked at as bad points of the story but arguably forgivable...arguably.

So firstly...Morlun is in this story and then dies!

Ummmmmmmmmmmmm...Wasn’t there not one but TWO massive Spider-Man event crossovers (one as recent as LAST YEAR) which firmly establish that there is in fact just one version of Morlun in the entire Multiverse? This story is royally contradicting that. Now in fairness...that was always bullshit because we have had What Ifs and other alternate universe stories before Spider-Verse clearly depicting more than one Morlun in the multiverse.

Secondly...Civil War....fucking Civil War.

I loathe and despise the original Civil War storyline from 2006. You guys have no idea how much I honestly wish that story never existed.

A big part of that is how it wrecks the verisimilitude of the Marvel universe before and after it. Civil War was unsustainable as a status quo shift long term for the Marvel Universe and it made no sense given it’s established history. It took the realism of superheroes too far and consequently forced writers and readers to wilfully ignore it after it was done so things could go back to normal. If you do a Civil War style story it needs to either be set in an AU or end your universe and that’s it. A change of pace simply cannot work without wrecking everything.

So seeing it again is gross buuuuuuuuut, given Life Story’s mission statement of taking things more realistically and being an AU itself it actually fits better in this story than in 616 Spider-Man. The same can be said of Spider-Man’s identity being unmasked although this too wrecks the idea that this is Spider-Man aging in real time. If it was about that then the ramifications of the unmasking wouldn’t stick around any more than they did in 616, because that had nothing to do with a sliding timeline or whatever.

However the idea of Civil War fitting better in Life Story because it’s more realistic is utterly destroyed when you consider that in this universe where superheroes have a more realistic impact upon the world, where the military has Tony Stark level weaponry, where intangible nuclear missiles are a thing...9/11 still happened...

...I’m going to repeat that.

In a world where there has been near Star Trek level technology since the 1960s...a handful of terrorists with conventional weapons (not even the most high tech weapons and technology available in the real world in 2001!) are able to fool airport security, hijack some planes and destroy the Twin Towers...in New York city...where ALL THE SUPERHEROES LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Look...in the Marvel or DC universes 9/11 happened. You can choose to interpret the 9/11 Spider-Man issue as canon or not canon, but it is a fact Spider-Man lives in a world where the 9/11 disaster happened. He didn’t stop it, the Avengers didn’t stop it, the Fantastic Four didn’t stop it.

Even though they definitely could have. Collectively all the superheroes of New York have weapons, technology and resources which would’ve enabled them to have intelligence on the hijackings, possibly before they even happened, probably during the hijackings and definitely as the planes were incoming. And they sure as hell had the ability to avert the disaster.

Are you telling me Al Quaeda could trick or stall or fend off the Avengers! Get the fuck out of here no they couldn’t.

The reason that 9/11 still canonically happened in the Marvel universe is simple. The Marvel universe’s realism doesn’t stretch so far as contorting the real world into something unrecognizable to the world of today. The Marvel universe has always been our world but superheroes are there. Their realistic social, political, economic and philosophical impact though isn’t. It’s why Christianity is still the dominant religion in Marvel’s America even though Thor is a thing. 9/11 being such a globally changing event means that the Marvel universe needed to retain it occurring in order to continue to reflect a relatable world to the readers.

More poignantly, just how during WWII superheroes didn’t simply end the conflict by flying into Germany and killing Hitler, to have had superheroes realistically avert 9/11 as they could have would’ve been deeply insulting and disrespectful to the real life witnesses and victims of the tragedy and their loved ones.

Zdarsky didn’t have that constraint though. He could’ve imposed it on his story had he wanted but just as with so much of the real world history his grossly mishandles (a reminder everything after issue #3 is bullshit because the world should’ve been consumed in nuclear Armageddon) he cherry picks what will and won’t be affected by superheroes existing and whether their effects will be realistically and logical or if they’ll be...whatever he randomly wants.

Case in point superheroes existing means nuclear missiles are intangible now, but superheroes existing doesn’t mean airport security is any different from what it was in 2001!

*head desk*

The ONLY way 9/11 happens in this Marvel universe is if like HYDRA did it instead of Al Quaeda or if the latter had backing from super villains.

But just like with all the altered real world history Zdarsky doesn’t explain anything. He’s lazy as a world builder. Thus we’re left to presume 9/11 happened as it did in the real world even though Tony Stark has already created technology that ended the Cold War by America beating Russia’s ass.

I mean for fuck’s sake, GALACTUS has invaded Earth and New York specifically, you telling me Tony or Reed or Hank Pym or someone hasn’t created at least some sort of alarm system to alert them to incoming threats. WTF was Doctor Strange doing!

Let’s stick to Tony for the moment. So in this issue...he’s the villain. He’s been on the wrong side ever since issue #1 really. This is another case of something bad that is arguably defendable.

See back in Civil War if you were reading Spider-Man you experienced a Tale of Two Tony’s (not my turn of phrase by the way I stole that).

You didn’t need to read Spider-Man to follow the main Civil War book but if you were reading Spider-Man you did need to read the main CW book to follow the story as pivotal events happened in the latter that were then followed up upon in the former. The most famous example would be Spider-Man unmasking which was only built up to in ASM but actually depicted in Civil War #2. However another more relevant example would be how when Spidey decided to switch sides Tony attacked him in ASM and was clearly painted as outright villainous, but then the action continued into the main Civil War book where Tony was written more conflicted and sympathetic, before the action cut back to ASM where he was very much a villain. The characterization wasn’t consistent at all, and the Spider books were not alone in this. Sue Richards’ break up with Reed happened very differently in the pages of Fantastic Four than they did in Civil War.

This is relevant to Life Story because the Tony in this book is very much the Tony of ASM era Civil War, the villain on the side of the law and the fact that Zdarsky planted the seeds for this back in issue #1 is I will admit commendable. Too bad it took until issue #4 for him and Peter to interact but whatever. I also confess that seeing the polar opposite of the Iron Dad relationship gives me life at the moment.

However given how Zdarsky’s convoluted M.O. with this book seems to be to reflect a wider real time aging Marvel Universe and not just Spider-Man’s story this characterization is fundamentally broken. Because Iron Man...was totally out of character in Civil War. Even in the main series where he was written more sympathetic he was out of character and in ASM it was truly ridiculous. So Zdarsky is again being inconsistent and terrible at characterization. He’s even being awful in how the story tries to remix elements from the 2000s era Spider-Man regarding Tony (and other stuff we’ll get to).

If you are going to factor in Peter’s unmasking and Iron Man into this story shouldn’t the once friendly relationship they had or his Avengers membership play a factor? I mean Spidey being an Avenger was such a huge deal in the 2000s that when Marvel made variant covers for his 50th anniversary showcasing something from every decade of Spidey his being an Avenger was used to represent the 2000s.

Getting back to the Civil War elements though, something mind boggling is that Iron Fist is on the pro-registration side when he was very much NOT in the real Civil War event. Making this matter worse is his best friend Luke Cage being on the anti-registration side. Even without giving anyone any lines Zdarsky srews up characterization. Compounding this is Iron Man’s claims that young heroes fell in line with the registration act...what?

Let’s ignore how bowing to the government isn’t typically what teens like to do...you telling me that the opinions of most teenage heroes was to sign up with the government? Bullshit, even in the original story their views were more mixed. There is also the implication that somehow...9/11 was the thing that prompted the SHRA...hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow??????????????????????????????

Finally Tony tells Peter he could be arrested for not registering with the government that he was a hero because...his spider sense is like insider trading.

I need to explain how stupid this is.

To begin with the SHRA wasn’t enforced when Peter was running Parker Industries so he was literally not breaking the law. If a law is passed that wearing a watch is illegal you can’t go to prison because prior to that law’s passage you wore a watch.

Secondly...no....no the Spider Sense is really not like insider trading at all. Let’s presume it could warn him about dangerous business deals...that’s not insider trading at all, that’s literally Peter having better business instincts than everyone else. That’s not cheating or illegal it’s just having a natural advantage over other people.

Thirdly...Captain America is leading a resistance group....again.

This is the dumbest damn idea in the original Civil War story and for some reason even though Zdarsky wants this series to be ‘more realistic’ he replicates that stupidity.

Captain America’s plan in the original Civil War boiled down to going on the run, recruiting other superheroes, attacking the registered heroes and then....somehow this would repeal a law designed to keep heroes in check.

Let’s say that this is a more realistic world and the Registration act is totally reasonable. Putting aside how framing it as a bad thing does not then make any damn sense, Captain America’s method for fixing the problem is utterly nonsensical, especially for a guy who could be president by merely running for office. He’s Captain America for God’s sake he’d win and could repeal the law from within!

The final problem with this plotline in the issue is how it really has NOTHING to do with the other plotline, and how t weirdly hijacks the issue and becomes the main plotline when initially the book presented something else as the main thrust of the story; not the first time Zdarsky has basically superglued two plotlines together even though they have little-nothing to do with one another

That thing of course was Morlun. This opens up a whole other can of stupid we need to talk about.

So first of all Morlun shows up in 2006 not 2001, further fucking up the idea this is Spider-Man aging in real time. Morlun DID appear in a 2006 story of course, the Other, but that was his return not his debut. Why is Morlun debuting 5 years later than he should be? Because Zdarsky wants to include the most famous villain who debuted in the 2000s but actually wants to make the story about Civil War which did happen in 2006 that’s why.

Speaking of Morlun, I might be wrong here but...a fucking tree? That’s how he dies? I’m not even complaining he doesn’t come back in a clone body, I’m talking strictly about how a tree stabs him like he’s Mystique in Dark Phoenix. Maybe I’m wrong but I’m preeeetty sure he could survive that unless Life Story’s Morlun is pathetically weaker than his mainstream counterpart.*

More egregiously is Peter’s handling of Morlun. He explains Ezekiel showed up to warn him about Morlun’s coming.

In the original story these two events happened close together, Morlun appeared shortly after Ezekiel’s warning. Let’s say we let Zdarsky slide on the timeframe and even the fact that Morlun actually was looking for Ezekiel not Peter...why did Peter do nothing about this warning.

In the original story Ezekiel offers Peter a bunker to hide out in. Presumably he did the same in Life Story. But instead of taking advantage of this or warning Ben Reilly or his potentially spider empowered children Peter...ignores him?

WHY?!

Peter didn’t disbelieve Ezekiel, he just rejected his offer of sanctuary because he had responsibilities to live up to. In this story Peter has even bigger responsibilities and a family potentially at risk and he just...did nothing?

And low and behold his elderly wife and daughter have to flee for their lives whilst he dicks around in New York and his brother and son straight up DIE.

That’s 3/3 relatives named Ben who are dead because he was a selfish dickhead!

And before we dive into Peter’s character I just want to take a moment and lament how piss poorly Mary Jane has been treated this whole story.

Issue #1: She is little more than a background character

Issue #2: She is totally out of character, and just drunkenly yells unreasonably at Peter then gets unreasonably yelled at by him

Issue #3: She gets shit on by Peter, inadvertently Aunt May and is left being pregnant and giving birth to twins with a senile old health hazard for company, then gets yelled at for suggesting getting her health, then is tasked with going out alone in a dark and stormy night to potentially kill her super powered husband

Issue #4: She shows up at the end and just welcomes him back as her husband and the father of her kids no questions asked apparently

Issue #5: We continue to never get a word about how she feels about their general lives, of Peter and her reconciliation, of their children. She just waits and worries in front of the TV or runs away from Morlun. How the Hell does her daughter get more agency in this one issue than she has pretty much this whole series?

Anyway back to Peter....yeah this is not Peter Parker.

You know how Peter Parker is all about with great power there comes great responsibility....well Life Story Peter Parker totally isn’t.

He abandons his company, employees and superhero duties to an untrained, underprepared, equally old clone of himself who has to quickly learn how to pretend to be him, how to run a company and fight more experienced super villains whilst fending off a corporate takeover by the secretary of defence for the United States of America. And then he gets murdered by an indestructible (except to wood) mystic vampire that Peter neglected to mention to him.

Ben Reilly DIED directly because Peter was an idiot.

And selfish, don’t forget that. He moved his family out into the woods in a secluded area so that he wouldn’t interact with too many people and thus not feel the need to intervene. Let’s ignore how he was able to resist this urge in Spider-Girl for a moment. You are telling me Peter Parker abandoned his great responsibility by finding basically doing the equivalent of sticking his fingers in his ears, closing his eyes and yelling “lalalalalala If I can’t see or hear anyone in trouble I can’t be responsible for not helping them lalalala”

FUCK OFF ZDARSKY!

This is toxically against the entire premise of the character at this point and getting older wouldn’t change that. Apparently all it took to snap him out of this funk was Ben Reilly dying and a pep talk from his friggin teenage daughter!

All in all this is another beautifully drawn shit show of an issue in a string of beautifully drawn shit show issues.

*Oh and let’s not forget that Morlun just...knows where the fuck Peter lives. That isn’t one of his powers. He needs to make contact with his target in order to track them down anywhere they go. He can’t just generally sniff them out. It doesn’t even make sense if he was tracking his kids.

Not to mention this story claims you can hurt Morlun when he’s feeding. But that’s not his weakness. Radiation is something he’s vulnerable to. If you can just kill him or the Inheritors by attacking when they are feeding then Spider-Verse and Spider-Geddon wouldn’t have been as dangerous it’s not that difficult to kill them.

[scribe-the-write-thing]

The crew of the Felicite.

So, I’ve posted about the three main characters -- well, that’s to say POV characters; Jess, Theodor and Cecil. This is an exploration more of the other characters that are also present.

And oh boy its a long one.

Buckle in.

Taglist: @ps-nippets @the-musings-of-michael @quilloftheclouds @cawolters

Beginning, first, with the crew of the Felicite, the vessel captained by Jess.

Aksel Kristiansen

A blacksmith and craftsman originally working from Tortuga -- from swords to metal jewellery, Aksel made his craft at the forge. A found quite a bit of coin in it, too; though that may have also come from making his own forgeries. Aksel met Jess upon her return to Tortuga after Emmerson’s death; and they became fast friends, with him joining her and Theodor on the Felicite, and fighting with her during her mutiny. He became her boatswain, with his no-nonsense nature and efficiency, he was the perfect choice to divide the spoils among the crew, and ration where need be.

“You’ve been here sorting supplies all day; have you even seen the daylight?”

Aksel slams the crate of maps down atop the barrels, looking up at her, thoroughly unamused. And she flashes back a lazy grin in return -- because Aksel would never be truly angry with her, despite his posturing and threats.

“Perhaps if certain people stopped moving them, I wouldn’t have to.”

Theodor -- he always means Theodor when he goes so vague. Certain people. Some members of the crew. Select individuals. He refers to everyone else by name if he needs to; which is a rare occasion, Theodor is about the only one that ever stirrs up trouble for his ridgid order.

Jess snorts, stepping aside to allow Cecil through, waving her hand vaguely at Aksel.

“And this grumpy bastard is Aksel, boatswain. If you need any supplies, he’s your man; but be aware, he’s rather stingy when it comes to rationing.”

“I’m fair. Everyone gets their share of what they deserve.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning sideways against one of the barrels. “Unless they’ve got a little extra coin to throw your way, huh?”

“First come first serve.” He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Though if you’re nice I might put the nicest treasures aside, just for you.”

Daithí Ó Maol Fábhail / Lavelle

A wandering merchant and self-proclaimed bard, Daithi found himself on a vessel from Ireland, eventually settling in Port Royal and making his way as a trader, singing the occasional song for extra coin. After a drunken night in Tortuga, Daithi found himself volunteering on a Privateer vessel known as the Felicite -- and later joining the mutiny aboard it. Daithi is the youngest, widely regarded as somewhat of the ‘baby’ of the group. Daithi finds his closest bond in the newest member of the group, Cecil -- mostly out of being glad to no longer be the ‘newcomer’ despite being there months.

“Perhaps if we’re lucky, Daithi might sing for us tonight.” Jess says, with a hum. “Boy has a voice as sweet as honey, I would swear he was half siren.”

“Awh, Jess, you’re makin’ me blush.” Daithi replies, hopping up onto the barrel next to her. “’course I will. Just don’t let Theodor choose the songs again. He made me sing ‘bully in the alley‘ five times last time.”

“It’s a song that really resonates with me.” Theodor says, with a huff -- though he still sounds amused.

“Oh we heard how well it resonated with you. You always insist on singing along.” Jess chuckles. “You sounded like a drowned cat.”

“I did not!”

“He’s right Jess, he didn’t really.” Daithi shrugs, though his expression quickly melts back into that goofy grin. “I’d say he sounded more like a choking seagull.”

Einari Heikkilä

A gunsmith initially doing business from within Port Royal -- trading underhand to less reputable men on the side. Einari found his most loyal customers in the crew of the Felicite; to the extent that when the law finally came calling, he found his new home aboard their ship as a part of the crew. Einari finds his closest bond in Theodor, with the two most often being found together, despite Einari being relatively quiet himself in comparison. He finds Theodor’s confidence and general loud ways to be something to be admired.

Theodor’s hand is slapped away before he can so much as brush his fingers over the gun.

“I thought I told you not to touch anything.”

“I was just curious,” Theodor grumbles, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest with a mock pout. “I only wanted to hold it. It’s a nice design, is all.”

“You can hold it if you buy it.” Einari doesn’t even look at him, so focused with fiddling with the gun on the workbench -- at least it looks like fiddling to Theodor; he’s never understood how it’s actually goes towards fixing it. “You don’t exactly have a reputation of being careful with your weapons.”

“It’s not my fault they stop working.”

“They don’t just break for no reason.” Einari says, and Theodor can see the faintest trace of a smile quirking his lips. “I know you tinker with them. Break it again and I’ll shoot you myself. Write out ‘idiot’ in bullets. Send a nice message.”

“Seems a waste of ammo.” Theodor says, with a non-chalant huff, leaning back against the wall. “Jess would kill you in turn for that. You could get the job done just shooting me once.”

Florian Krause

Originally from Germany, Florian is a tailor -- and makes it clear that it’s a profession he feels goes unappreciated. Florian found himself working in numerous villages and towns before boarding the Felicite before its commandeering by Jess, joining her mutiny when it began. Florian attempts to introduce a little style into the life of the crew -- or at least to make sure they aren’t running around in torn rags. Whether it be making warm blankets and clothing, or repairing clothes torn in escapes and battles, Florian is determined to earn due respects for his skills.

“You what?” There’s surprise in Florian’s tone -- but it’s minor. There’s not even anger, or distaste, just some resigned disappointment. Cecil wonders, briefly, how often he’s dealt with this. He doesn’t mean to stare, and knows really that he should leave now he’s done here, but some part of him wants to see how this will play out.

Theodor doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“I cut all the sleeves off my shirts.”

“Oh.” Florian nods, stiffly. “I thought that was what you said.”

“So can you fix them? Before Jess finds out? She’s going to be angry otherwise-”

“Yes- But first let’s just, go back a bit-” Florian clasps his hands together, seemingly trying to will away his confusion and fully comprehend the situation. “I just have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Theodor shrugs. “Jess was asleep. I wanted to see what would happen.”

“Right.” Florian inhales deeply, closes his eyes -- and Cecil can pratically feel the frustration wafting off of him. “Why your sleeves?”

“Thought my biceps might want to breathe. Just felt like trying short sleeved for a while.”

“Fair enough.”

Jay Burnett

A half Senegalese, half-Haitian originally sailing with smugglers from Haiti, Jay is a demolitions expert with a love for all things fire-power and cannon-related. Jay met Jess during a barfight in Tortuga, after she saved his life from a stray bullet. After a long night of drinking, the two became fast friends; both due to a similar heritage/history and their taste for adventure. Jess brought him aboard for his knowledge, and he has remained one of her closest companions since. As explosive as his talents, Jay has a love for experimenting and finds a willing fellow experimenter (and occasional test subject) in Theodor.

Jess sighs, deeply, adjusting her head to rest against his shoulder -- the scent of smoke and ash drifting to her nostrils almost immediately, but she doesn’t have the strength or the will to move her head away, even if she wanted to.

“You still stink of explosion.” She murmurs, softly, wrinkling her nose.

“Better than you, you still smell like damp seawater.” He chuckles, softly. “And you look like a drowned cat.”

“You’re one to talk.” She replies, nudging his side, shifting her head to glance at the frazzled locks. “You’re actually singed.”

“All for the good of science.”

“You and your experiments. I think Theodor’s still smoking from your last one.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” Jay says, fauxly-indignant, she can see the playful smile quirking his lips, hear the humour in his tone. “I told him to throw the firework as soon as I lit it. He was the one that hesitated.”

Serefina Cassara

An ex-nun, originally from Italy, who left behind her country and life in pursuit of more excitement in her life. Either stowing away on a ship, or travelling with smugglers, Serefina sought out the Caribbean, soon finding herself in Tortuga and bonding quickly with Jess -- and soon taking up her offer of being aboard her ship, a rarity considering so few allowed female members. Serefina became something of a ‘mother’ to the crew, working as a medic and last form of a moral centre. As of late, she has bonded most with Cecil, taking him under her wing as he is inducted into the way of life aboard the ship.

“So you think... that I- that everyone here, can be a good person?”

Serefina pauses, eyeing Cecil carefully for a while, long enough for him to begin to wonder if he’d offended her, perhaps.

“Maybe not good people, but passable ones.” She says, finally. “They’re trying. And rules are different, here; I don’t think it fair to judge any of them as being strictly bad people. They may do bad things, but they do good too. Neither outweighs the other.”

“But I- and you served as a nun- so you must know...” He trails off, tries to find the correct wording for what he’s trying to get across. “Isn’t everything... against-”

“I think that, if there is a god, he doesn’t particuarly care what we’re doing. There’s plenty of other things to worry about.” She shrugs. “I’d worry less about what he thinks; and more of what you think of yourself. We all have our own codes, our own standards; as long as we’re sticking by them, all else follows.”

[shadowphoenixrider]

A Moment of Peace

(Not a conventional Valentine’s fic, but it’s got Draggka and Khadgar being sweethearts to each other, so it counts! I consider this a partner piece to Quickening, though it’s set after that one. Enjoy!)

(Tagging: @highpriestessbriyanna. @elfgirl931, @fer8girl, @galleywinter and @sigurdjarlson)

“I still tink dat we be better off try’n break da sword down into smaller pieces, den slowly pull it from da wound.” Draggka said, looking up at the mage that paced by her position on the couch. “Dere be no way we can be pulling dat sword out in one go. It be takin’ you and da whole Council to move Dalaran. Don’t tink even all of ya, Jaina and Medivh could shift it right now.”

“I understand, and you’re right about us lacking the power to move it in its current form, but we still don’t know how deep the blade goes.” Khadgar replied, stepping carefully over Spike’s tail. “It is clearly deep enough to cause Azeroth to bleed, and provoke Azerite eruptions across the surface of the planet, but we need to know exactly how deep. We cannot afford to shatter the sword and leave fragments of it inside Azeroth. It is bad enough we have Old Gods buried within her, without pieces of Sargeras’s sword in there too.”

“But we drained it of its dark energy.” The hunter said. “It be as dead as a rock.”

“Yes, well. Our Gul’dan was dead, but his skull was still a powerful demonic artifact - indeed, Illidan’s powers were taken from it.” The wizard pulled a face. “And it talked to me.”

“Tink dat might be a feature of da skulls of demons. Remember Thal’kiel, dat skull dat Liz were using against the Legion?” Draggka said, shifting position. “Apparently he were very talkative.”

“That doesn’t exactly bring me comfort, dearest.” Khadgar remarked dryly. He sighed, closing the book he had in his hands. “Light curse Sargeras. I thought that maybe, maybe...”

Draggka sat up, reaching to take one of mage’s hands, squeezing it gently. He glanced down at her, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m sorry, love. You don’t want to listen to me complain about Sargeras for umpteenth time,” he said, setting the book aside and moved over to the couch she was lying on, Spike opening one blue eye to regard him.

“Still be better den Nathanos grumbling ‘bout da Zandalari fleet, or makin’ remarks ‘bout how I somehow don’t be havin’ time to help da ‘Honourbound’ out.” Draggka replied, rolling her eyes as Khadgar lifted her feet up to sit down, setting them in his lap. “No doubt he now be whining ‘bout me going on leave for da baby.”

“Champion of the Banshee Queen or not, even he cannot demand you charge into battle with a belly swollen with a child.” Khadgar said, his eyes tracing down her legs to the troll’s rounded stomach. “Hmm. It's only been a a week, but I’m sure its gotten bigger. When you first came to Karazhan, one could have mistaken it for gut rot. Now it is clearly a pregnancy.”

“I thought so too.” Draggka nodded. “Armour be gettin’ uncomfortable before I came here. Little adjustments were fine, and it be easily hidden, but now? No, dere be no way to be wearing armour witout people knowing.” She ran a hand over her stomach. “I couldn’t be risking it. Not any more.”

“I do wish it hadn’t taken an Alliance attack on Dazar’alor to bring you home to us.” Khadgar said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “When I felt you contact me after the battle, and your first communication was ‘I’m alive’-” He shook his head. “Light, Draggka, I dropped everything to get to you. If I’d known what was happening I would’ve-”

“Ya would’ve gotten yaself killed.” The hunter said, steel in her voice. “Like I said back den. Da Zandalari would have attacked ya for bein’ human, as would da Horde. Dat’s why I hid it from ya.” She sighed, Spike lifting his head up from the ground to rumble sympathetically. “I broke my heart to be lying to ya. But I needed to be keeping ya safe as well. If I lost ya, I...”

She stopped herself from completing that sentence. Her mate did not need to know that he and their child were one of the few anchors keeping her on Azeroth.

“We be here now.” Draggka said instead, her other hand going to pet Spike’s head, avoiding his knowing gaze. “I promise, I not be goin’ anywhere else now.“

“I would hope not.” Khadgar replied. “Even when you said you were taking leave, you stayed to help Talanji undertake trials to become Queen, and then you went and spoke with the Lich King!”

“I be owing dat to her and Vol’jin!” The hunter spat back, her fur prickling at his tone. Spike whined, and she sighed, her ears drooping. “I be sorry, Khadgar. I...I know ya be my mate, but...dey be my people. Dey be my family for a long time, before Dranka came home. Before you. Vol’jin still be my Warchief in my heart.” She stroked her thumb listlessly against his hand. “I’m sorry. Curse dis war. Curse dis war and Sylvanas for making me choose between my people an’ my family.”

“I know.” Khadgar replied, breathing out his own sigh. “I know. You know how I feel about it all. I’ve only just found you, a love I’d never thought I’d have in my life, and I...I’m so frightened of losing you. Of losing our child. I want to lock you in Karazhan to keep anything from happening to you. But I know that you need to be free. Your honour drives you to protect the people of Azeroth and the Horde - one of the many reasons I fell so deeply in love with you. You cannot stand by when they suffer, selflessly throwing yourself into danger again and again for them. Especially as dark clouds gather within their ranks once more.”

His fingers gently interlaced with hers, the golden band on his ring finger glinting in the light.

“I don’t begrudge what you did. I understand why. I only selfishly wish that you’d put yourself first a little more. Or rather, you’d put me first.” He smiled weakly, lifting a shoulder. “A flaw in my character, I’m afraid. I’m rather scared of losing things I care about.”

“So am I.” Draggka replied, a slight smile on her lips. “I understand, Khadgar. I know why ya be mad. I were upset when ya be throwing yaself into dose tings when we be fightin’ da Legion. It only be fair dat ya be upset when I be doin’ da same.”

“In my defence, you are carrying our child too,” he said, tapping her stomach with a spare finger. “Regardless of how strong trolls are, and you in particular, I can’t help but worry.”

“I know, I know.” She squeezed his hand again. “But, it be enough adventuring for me for now. I be putting myself first now, like ya wanted me to.” And thankfully, away from Sylvanas.

“Mmmhmm.” The mage hummed, raising an eyebrow. “I will believe it when I see it. No doubt your need to wander will return, and I will make myself available as an escort when it does.” He smiled warmly. “I intend to make sure you don’t give me any more sleepless nights.”

Spike gave a dismissive snort, glaring at Khadgar as if he’d just been insulted. The mage chuckled.

“No, Spike, I wasn’t insinuating that you cannot protect her yourself. You’ve done a fine job getting her this far, after all. It is more to ease my own anxieties, than accuse you of being negligent in yours.”

The raptor looked very disbelieving at that, but he seemed to accept the explanation and rest his head back down on the floor again.

“You two gobble like mother turkeys.” Draggka commented, unable to stop the smile playing on her lips. “Even wit da baby, I can be lookin’ afta myself, ya know.”

“I recall you bursting into tears when you saw Medivh replace one of the chained books in the library.” Khadgar replied. “Something about ‘what did they do to deserve that’?”

“Dat has nothing to do wit being able to take of myself!” Draggka pointed accusingly at the now smirking mage. “An’ ya shouldn’t be chaining books anyway. Not unless dey be dose aggressive flappy ones.”

“They’re precisely the ones that are chained, dearest.” He replied, clearly amused. “With Medivh and I here, we no longer need to rely on their enchantments to keep thieves at bay. That, and we need to protect them from your arrows and Spike’s teeth.”

Both hunter and raptor snorted, the former pulling her hands away to fold her arms in a sulk, the latter glaring up at him.

“I be coming here to rest, an’ all ya be doing is being mean to me.”

“Oh come now, I’m only teasing.” Khadgar’s smirk became one of his winning smiles, one that made his eyes twinkle and Draggka’s heart flip in her chest. “If you cannot spar with your arrows, I at least wish to offer you sport with our words,” he said, pulling his gloves off and setting them aside. “And if you wish to rest instead, I would be more than happy to give you comfort too.”

With that, he began to rub the troll’s feet, tenderly massaging her sore soles. Draggka tried to hold her grumpy pout and sulk, but she couldn’t help but groan in relief at the touch of the mage’s warm hands.

“Does that feel better?” He asked softly, making sure to give her toes the same attention.

“Yeah...Much better. Tank you.” Draggka sighed, laying her head back down against the arm of the couch.

A now familiar flutter of movement arose in her stomach as her baby rolled over, seemingly in reply to her relaxation. Khadgar caught the look on her face, tilting his head questioningly.

“Dey be on da move again,” she said. “I tink dey be- Ow!” The troll winched as she was suddenly struck by a random limb into her more sensitive innards. “Dere was no need for dat!”

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Khadgar asked, reaching for her, hand hovering anxiously over her stomach.

“Yeah, I be fine, dey just be givin’ me a punch. Or a kick, I don’t-” Draggka suddenly paused, a thought clicking into place. “Khadgar, ya hand.”

She quickly grasped him, settling his palm over the last impact site. “Come on, little one, let ya father know dat you be here.” He’s been trying to sense you for months, please give him this.

Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, Khadgar pressing his hand in as firmly as he dared for even the slightest twitch their unborn child could or would make. Disappointment was just starting to crease the mage’s face when the baby finally moved again, and Draggka felt it punch out directly under his hand. The look on her life-mate’s face was, for the lack of a better word, magical. His whole face lit up, his eyes widening and he gasped, lips stretching into a beaming smile.

“Draggka! I, I felt it! Our child, our baby just kicked! They just kicked me!” Khadgar may have looked the ripe old age of eighty, but his excitement shaved the years off him to almost a tender twenty, and his joy was delightfully infectious. He reached over, wrapping her in a hug and pressing a sloppy kiss to her lips, not caring if her tusks dug in his cheeks and chin, before he leant down to her stomach.

“I felt you, young one! Your daddy felt you kick me!” He cooed, almost pressing his face into Draggka. “Oh, I love you so much. You’ve still got a little way to go before we’ll see you properly, but I can’t wait. I love you. I love you and I love your wonderful mother who’s carrying you right now.” Khadgar glanced back up at the troll, still grinning from ear to ear. The hunter couldn’t help but start laughing.

“Oh you, ya be ridiculous!” She reached forward, ruffling his hair and making him chuckle. “Ya hear him, little one? What a charmer ya father be? You’ll love him when ya see him. We both be loving ya wit everyting we have. Jus’ don’t be kicking me too hard, dat not be fair.”

“Yes, be good to your mom.” Khadgar said. “She’s been through a lot, including growing and hauling you around, so don’t make her job any harder for her, okay? Do it as a promise to your daddy, okay?”

“If she be anyting like you, she be takin’ dat as a challenge.” Draggka grinned.

“Actually, I’m sure that will be your blood talking.” Khadgar replied, grinning back. “Thank you, Draggka. I...” He glance down at her stomach, then back up, utterly speechless. “I love you.”

“Love ya too, Ba’la.” Draggka grinned back, before he pulled her back into an energetic, loving kiss.

“Light, Draggka.” Khadgar suddenly said as he pulled away, cupping her cheeks. “I’ve got to tell Medivh. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He almost sprang off the couch, bouncing off out of the room crying: “Medivh! Medivh! The baby! I just felt the baby!”

As there was what seemed like a distant reply in the tower, Draggka stroked her pregnant belly, smiling. Yes. This is my family. This is where I belong.