#leaving myself with only the amount of work I could get done today done

[freepassbound]

Executive dysfunctioned myself into a bit of a spiral this week!

It's over now, thankfully - though this time I was saved only by an actual deus ex machina of a snow day on Thursday.

(after FOUR straight days of accomplishing precisely nothing that needed to get done, and one day of trying - and mostly failing - to scramble to do some of it)

[c0wboylikeharry]

BROKEN ELEVATOR (h.s)

(masterlist) || (taglist)

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: after a late night at the office, harry expects to be the only one left. he’s surprised when he finds a single desk lamp still on—yours. leaving at the same time, the tense silence envelopes you during your elevator ride. but when the elevator breaks down, leaving you stranded with no way out, the tension crackles into something new.

word count: 8.3k

cw: smut, dirty talk, penetration, finger play, oral, overstimulation, unprotected sex

a/n: happy reading you freaks ;) this is my first like…full out smut so lmk what you think. i’m now going to go baptize myself in holy water.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

Groaning as I power down my desktop, my eyelids threaten to shut on their own accord. The darkness that I get basked between is one I relish in. A quiet, still office. No longer bombarded by ringing phones or an influx of emails. It’s done.

At least for today.

My eyes burn from the sting of staring at a screen all day, knowing these stupid blue light glasses my mother recommended can do nothing to save me at this point. I feel achy, as if I’d just finished with an intense workout, not just sat at a desk for 10 hours.

Forcing myself up from my chair, I stretch out my limbs, soothing the ache in my lower back. I don’t even bother to throw my suit jacket back on. There’s no point. I’m the only person who’s crazy enough to still be at the office. But work never ends when you own the company, I guess. Lord knows I’m just going home to lock myself in my home office for 3 more hours.

When I first started this company, I knew it’d be hard work and grueling hours. What I didn’t know is all that it would take from me. If you want a social life, don’t own a business. If you want stress free hours, even off the clock, don’t start a business. Hell, there isn’t even enough time—let alone enough energy in me anymore—to get laid

I think that one has me the most on edge.

Stomping around my spacious office, I gather my things and toss my jacket over my shoulder before cracking open the door. It feels like it’s been hours since I closed it, locked it, and told everyone to fuck off for the rest of the day so I could concentrate.

I guess one could say I’m notorious for being quite…cold in the office. I’m not a boss who’s shoulder is open to cry on when the job gets tough. I want the work done, and done well. Anything other than that is unacceptable. If I’m working hard, my employees have to be working 10x harder just to reach my level. I’m not going to apologize for that. And if they can’t handle that? Onwards and out they go.

Stepping out into the main space seems to calm me. All of the cubicles are left empty and lifeless, deserted hours ago right when the clock struck 5 pm.

Well, all except one.

Off in the far distance of the office floor, one lamp is still on. And it doesn’t surprise me. At least, not anymore. It’s become a constant. Almost a competition. Which one of us can stay later? Endure the back and eye pain, send the most emails, and log off the latest? But only one of us still does it with a smile on their face.

And that is not me.

You’ve been working here in the social media department for almost 3 years now. In fact, you sort of invented the department here. Before you, I couldn’t understand why a sex toy brand like mine needed a social media presence. But when you came in for an interview, for any old position here, you suggested the idea and changed the game. Taking charge, our sales grew an exponential amount from some simple online posts. You follow the trends, keep the business name in the headlines and put so much fucking money in my pockets.

I’m grateful for the work you do, but those words have never been shared with you. Like I said, I have an asshole reputation to uphold.

The minute I see the lamp at your desk flick off, my feet resume their trek toward the elevator. The only sound being my shoes thudding against the marble floors and the sounds of rustling as you pack up. And then it’s your heels, tapping to the same rhythm as my feet, heading in the same direction.

I’ve got no clue why, but I slow my pace.

We reach the elevator at the same time, but you’re the only one kind enough to flash me a smile in greeting. All I do is nod and press the call button for us.

The silence threatens to suffocate me, and I wonder if you’re feeling the tension too. That crackling, pin straight spine, choked out feeling in your chest. It’s consuming me. So much so that I nearly jump when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

I motion for you to go ahead—I might be an asshole but I’m still a gentleman. Okay, maybe not that much of a gentleman because I’m unable to stop my eyes from dropping to the way your hips sway as you step in.

Starting a company as a man who has a weakness for women in pencil skirts wasn’t a good idea.

Snapping my gaze back up, I step into the elevator with you just before the doors close. A good few feet between us and nothing but the sound of the elevator engine accompanying us. I mentally pray this ride goes fast.

“Long day?” you’re the only one with the balls to break the silence.

“Mm,” I hum, “definitely.”

“Same here.” Your hands clasp together in front of you, an awkward stance to match the awkward energy. “I actually wanted to talk to you about—“

Your words get cut off by a loud screeching sound. It jolts the elevator, rattling us around until I have to hold myself still with the wall, and you catch onto my arm. The spike of adrenaline in my body forces me not to think about the contact. Lights flicker above our heads, but the movement stops. Like, all together. We’re no longer headed down to the parking garage. Hell, the button pad isn’t even lit up anymore! We’re just…stuck.

I instantly break into survival mode.

Wrenching myself from the wall and your hold, I slam my hand against the button pad, hoping anything will make this shit run again. But it’s no use. I press the alarm, hearing it ring out through the throngs of the building I know is empty at this hour. God, why can’t I just leave at 5 like a regular person? I try for the call button, listening to the automated message before it begins to ring. And ring. And ring. And—you get the picture. Not a soul picks up. In fact, the line’s static.

“Are we stuck?” your frail voice pulls me from my tunnel vision. You’ve glued yourself to the back wall of the confined space, fear etched onto your face with no will to leave.

“Please don’t tell me you’re claustrophobic,” is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

“No, but I do have a fear of plummeting to my death!” In any other circumstance, I would’ve laughed.

“We aren’t going to plunge to our deaths,” I sigh, not even believing my own words. But someone has to keep their head on straight here. “It was storming today, lightning probably struck the power out. We just have to wait for the backup generator to kick in.” I walk over to the closed doors, assessing the possibilities.

“How long until that happens?”

“I don’t know!” My own fear makes me snap accidentally. “I make sex toys for a living!”

“We could be here all night…” you mutter, your voice sounding distant, but I’m too preoccupied to offer comfort or a second thought. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna pull the doors open, see if maybe we stalled on a floor, or at least enough floor for us to slip out onto.”

“You can’t possibly pull those doors open! They’re made of steel! And without the engines running, you’ll be pushing against the resistance of—“

With a major ego boost, your words die in your throat when I start to force the doors to separate. It makes an awful squeaking sound, but it’s working. It’s actually working! I mask my excitement easily, acting as if I knew I’d be able to do it all along.

But that excitement was too good to be true, a fleeting moment squashed like gum on the bottom of someone's shoe.

A wall. That’s all that’s to be seen. A fucking slab of concrete and no open air in sight. Fuck.

“Oh my god… We’re gonna die in here,” you practically cry.

“We’re not going to die.” Again, I have no idea, but I’m trying to convince myself my words are true. “Emergency services will be here soon.”

“What fucking emergency services?! We didn’t get through to anyone, no one else is in this building this late, and no one is coming to save us!” You sink down onto the floor, your back pressed against the metal wall. I can hear your labored breaths from here.

I might be known as the asshole around the office, but I’m not a completely heartless bastard. I see someone in distress, I offer a hand and support. Well, in some cases. And this is one of them.

I waltz over to you, sinking down in front of you and hesitantly placing my hands on your shaking knees, the ones you’ve pulled up against your chest. Your chin is tucked against your chest, hiding from the situation—hiding from me.

“Hey…” I think that’s the softest I’ve ever spoken. “Listen, we’re going to be just fine. Shit like this happens all the time and the cords hardly ever snap—“

“Hardly?!” Your head whips up, eyes puffy and red from withheld tears.

Shit. “Do you want me to lie to you?” You shake your head. “All I’m saying is that it’s a one in a million chance that we drop. And, hey, you don’t know? We could very well be just 10 feet from the ground floor and the only thing that would happen would be a small stomach drop.”

“I hate drop rides,” you whine, your bottom lip trembling in its pout.

This time, it’s my turn to drop my chin to my chest. “Jesus, you’re impossible.”

I maneuver myself until I’m slumped against the wall beside you, having given up on the whole ‘save the day’ act. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck here, I might as well get comfortable. An idea popping into my head has me mentally cursing myself for my stupidity, reaching into my pocket for my phone.

Of course, my phone! How could I not have thought of it sooner? All we have to do is just call someone to— Oh, and it’s dead. Yep. Dead as can be.

Fuck.

“Do you have your phone?” I grumble, peering over at you as you drag your head back out of its hiding place. “Check if you have service in here.”

“Oh my god, you’re a genius!” you gasp, scrambling to grab your phone from the purse you discarded when you thought we were freefalling. And I wouldn’t say the notion makes me a genius, actually quite the opposite since it took me so long to think of, but I’ll accept the stroke of my ego. When you snatch your phone, the screen illuminates your face in the flickering lighting. “It’s spotty, but it’s something. Oh, shoot, I’m on SOS… Wait! No, it’s ba—it’s gone again.”

Groaning, my head hits the metal wall, staring up at the matching metal ceiling. Damn, this place is cramped. Maybe I’m the one with claustrophobia?

“I can try to call 911 anyway? Isn’t that a thing? Like, your calls go through even without service?” you ask me like I’d have any clue.

“It’s worth a try.”

You sigh a smile as you tap around on your phone and hold it up to your ear. It’s so silent in here without the engines running, I can hear the dial tone.

“Hi! Hi! Yes!” Oh my god, it worked. Your hand juts out to slap against my bicep in your fit of joy. It’s hard to smother the smile growing on my own face. Especially when your hand settles to a stop, still resting on my arm. Now that the initial adrenaline is gone, I do have time to focus on the touch. “We're trapped in an elevator! Yes! No, the engines went down! I don’t know…20 minutes? No, no, none of it…”

I tune out your voice as you drabble on, giving out our location and any other useful information they need to come save us. It’s easy to do it when I’m instead so hyper focused on the contact of your hand on my body.

Like I said, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid. Now I’m like a prepubescent teenager who just brushed shoulders with a cute girl in the hall. It’s pathetic.

Somewhere in between my ogling and internal freakout, you had ended the call, and—to my dismay—moved to drop your hand back to your side.

“They said it might be a little, there’s some fire at a restaurant, but they’re coming!”

“Good… That’s really good,” my voice doesn’t even sound like my own, too stalled on the buzzing your touch has leftover on me to care.

This time, when you slump back against the wall, you aren’t on the verge of tears. I guess with just the promise of help on the way your mind has erased all possibilities of this huge metal box unhinging. Because in the time it takes for them to get here, it totally can’t happen, right? Wrong. But I won’t say that out loud. Dealing with you being a nervous wreck would have been worse than dealing with you in relief.

Even if it has you saying, “We should play truth or dare to pass the time.”

“Truth or dare? We aren’t 10.” I grimace at the thought, holding back an intense eyeroll.

“Come on! It’s just something to pass the time!”

“No, I’m not playing that ridiculous game.” I know I’m sounding like a complete ass—to which I’ve accepted I am—but I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere.

“Truth or dare, Harry?” you push.

“I told you, I’m not playing.”

“Truth or dare?” you repeat, pressing further. But if you press anymore, I might just cave in.

“No.”

“Fine, you can ask me first.”

I’m about to snap the elevator cords myself, but then I decide I can have some fun with this. “Truth or dare?”

Your eyes light up when the words leave my mouth, thinking you’ve finally won. “Hmm… Dare.”

“I dare you to not play this game.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” you whine like a child.

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” I retort.

“You can be a real asshole, you know that?” your words surprise me. Not the adjective you’ve used to describe me, but the way you so freely verbalized it.

Still, I find myself replying, “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you’re quick to apologize, the previous words probably slipping without your consent, “I didn’t mean to say that! That was so uncalled for and— Wait, did you say you know?”

I nod. “Yeah, I know. I know what you all say when you think I don’t hear. I’ve accepted this fact.”

“Harry, I’m—“

“Don’t apologize again. Really, it’s fine,” I cut you off, taking your words and rolling them off my shoulders.

“It’s not fine, it’s not,” you continue, and I can feel the guilt oozing off of you. “No one should be talked about like that, no matter the situation. And while I haven’t personally added to the email chain, I do apologize on everyone’s behalf.”

“Wait, wait—there’s an email chain?”

Even if the flickering lights gave out and basked us in darkness, I’d still be able to see how red your cheeks turn. “Shit,” you mutter.

A small laugh escapes my lips at your embarrassing slip up. The uncommon sound leaving my lips has a tentative smile growing on your lips, and the tension of your early admission slowly leaves your shoulders. Then the silence comes. A question of ‘where do we go from here?’ hangs in the air. It's slightly uncomfortable. After me being an asshole, you calling me out for being an asshole, and an oddly tender moment; there’s not much else to say. But not saying anything is worse.

Just when I’m about to succumb to my worst nightmares and reignite the game of Truth or Dare, your phone buzzes against the carpeted surface beneath us. At least it gives you an out from the suffocating silence, I think. Picking up your phone, I can’t help but study you closely—I’ve got nothing better to do. The screen casts a glow over you, and I watch as your eyebrows furrow. The tiniest of eye rolls and then you’re turning your phone upside down on the floor again. But you can’t escape whatever you were looking at—it buzzes again. The steps repeat five times over until you can’t fight the groan that leaves your lips.

“Everything good?” I can’t help myself from asking. My curiosity is piqued, sue me!

“It’s fine,” you mumble, clearly not fine. That sentiment is only set in stone when your phone buzzes again and you nearly toss it against the wall. It’s my interception that stops you from making the mistake.

My hand grips your wrist midair and yanks your phone from your hand before you can check it again. I don’t need you getting overly agitated and accidentally manifesting our plummet.

“Give me my phone back.” You reach out for it, but I pull it away, out of your reach. And, damn, the thing buzzes about 3 times in just this short time. “Harry, give me my phone.”

“Who’s blowing up your phone?” It’s really none of my business, but I’m a nosy bastard.

Wow, these confines are really making me realize all of my flaws.

“It’s no one,” you grumble, reaching out again. I hold your phone further up and out.

“Oh? So no one has you about to smash your phone against the elevator wall?”

“Harry, I’m serious,” you whine, once again reaching and failing. The repetition of your movements has you suddenly so much closer.

“So am I!” I laugh. “I don’t need your phone cracking against the wall just right and sending this metal box freefalling!”

“You said we weren’t going to die!” you gasp.

“We won’t,” I reply, “if you don’t go all crazy with rage and do something stupid.” You sigh and sit back on your knees, seemingly giving up on your fight. I don’t trust it. Proven right when you toss yourself forward and try to snatch it again—to no avail. “Is it a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A scammer trying to get you to become a princess of some made up country?” Your lack of laughter bruises me. I thought that was funny. “Or maybe it’s a crazy ex?”

Your lack of response is response enough. Shit. The realization that I’ve cracked the code has you flinging yourself again, but you take it a step further this time. Your whole body practically folds over me in your attempt, leaving your legs landing with one on either side of my hips. Instinctively, my hands fly out to stable you. Double shit.

You still. No longer in a rush to grab your phone back, no longer eager to see whatever’s on your screen, and probably no longer even breathing. I know I’m not. I’m too focused on the feel of your hips beneath my hands. I have to physically stop myself from squeezing your flesh.

I guess there’s no point in lying anymore—I find you ridiculously attractive. Always have. The second you walked into my office for an interview, I knew if I hired you, I’d be fucked. So I wasn’t going to. I entertained the interviewer for the sake of staring at a pretty face a little longer. But then you brought up the PR stuff and it all made so much sense and I realized… I was really fucked. So I went against my urges and hired you, forcing myself to delete any previous notions I had.

But now? Now those lines I drew for myself are blurring. Fading right before my eyes.

“I should…” you start, words trailing from the intense burning gaze I’m most likely sending your way.

“No… No, you shouldn’t.” I can only assume you were going to say you should get up, but I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got you in my arms.

“Harry…” The way you breathe my name sends a shiver down my spine.

“Don’t,” I warn, my grip on your hips growing tighter, keeping you in place. “You’re not going anywhere now.” Wide eyes stare back down at me, hesitant and confused. But my eyes can’t help but shamelessly roam your body, perched on top of mine like it was made to be. Your chest rises and falls quickly with your nervous breaths, right in front of my face. I feel like I’m hypnotized. “You look good like this,” the words fall from my tongue without a second thought.

“Harry—“ you try again, but I cut you off.

“Don’t… Don’t talk.” I grip you tighter, pulling you down slowly until you’re fully resting your weight against me. I push down the groan that threatens to spill. “Just let me look at you…”

“What are you doing?”

I ignore your question, letting my hands travel from your hips to the tops of your thighs, smoothing over the material of your skirt. This damn pencil skirt. The barely audible sound of your breath hitching in your throat sends a thrill through my bloodstream. “Is this okay?” I peer up at you through my eyelashes, my hands not stopping their actions of smoothing up and down your addictive thighs.

Your eyes connect with mine. Hesitancy, shock and…lust. I’ve got you right where I want you.

And when you nod, slowly and easily unnoticeable, I nearly snap right then and then.

The groan that’s been fighting its way up my throat is finally let free and I pull you flush against me. Your chest hits mine in a rushed movement, and your hands land on my shoulders to stabilize yourself. You’re so close. So close to me. I can smell the notes of your perfume, the scent of your shampoo, and I’m hooked. Releasing one hand from your hip, I grab your chin and angle your head down toward mine. Our noses nearly brush, that’s how close we are.

“This is a mistake,” I whisper, but you can hear each syllable perfectly, nodding in agreement. “You could be fired.” You nod again but don’t make any move to leave. “I could lose my business…”

“But?” you clue in, breath hitting my skin.

“But at least it’ll be worth it.”

And just like that, my lips are on yours. Groaning into the kiss like a man starved, my grip on you tightens to a bruising degree, pulling you impossibly closer. My tongue doesn’t waste any time in demanding entrance, tracing the seam of your lips and forcing its way in when you gasp. Hands. So many hands. Yours planted on my shoulders, slowly smoothing up to hold the sides of my neck. One of mine on your hips, dancing over your frame to press into your lower back and bring you closer, the other tangling in your hair to angle you just right. I can’t get enough. I’m not sure if it’ll ever be enough. Hissing out when your legs spread further, bunching your skirt to the top of your thighs, as your center presses against mine.

I pull back from the kiss, just barely, letting my lips brush over yours as I speak. “You know,” I strain the words, my voice heavy with lust, “I could think of a few better things we could do to pass the time, other than Truth or Dare.”

I feel your thighs tighten around my hips from my words, and it only serves to heighten my need for you. I drop my hands to your thighs away, feeling the bare skin under my fingertips as one of my hands travels higher and higher, disappearing under the tight material. “Do you want to pass the time with me?”

When my eyes and brain register your small nod, a smirk spreads on my face, giving me the green light to continue. Two hands. One gripping the top of your thigh and the other grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a searing kiss.

“Good girl,” I mumble against your mouth.

I hold you just where I want you as my lips leave yours and travel down your jaw instead, licking and nipping the skin in my descent to your neck. It’s all so addictive, so sweet. It’s still not enough. But when I find that sweet spot—a patch of skin just below the lobe of your ear—you moan breathlessly, and I think this might be just right. Shivering beneath my touch, my hand that’s under your skirt finds the waistband of your panties, feeling the delicate lace between the pads of my fingers.

“These are coming home with me.” I give the band a small tug, letting it snap back against your skin before pulling my hand away all together. Sliding my hands up your body, I pull your dress shirt from the hem of your skirt and tug on it. “Arms up for me, baby.”

Baby. Don’t know where that came from. But with the way it has you complying without another word, I know I won’t stop saying it. I toss your shirt to the side, my eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. So much of it. But your chest has me in a daze, hidden behind scrap material you call a bra. I can’t help the low moan that escapes me.

“You’re so beautiful,” I breathe the words, reaching to grip and knead at the skin of your waist. I can’t stop touching you. My hands are everywhere, feeling out your smooth, soft skin like it’s a drug. They eventually slip onto your back, tugging on the clasp that keeps you hidden from me. In one quick snap, the whole thing comes undone. The straps slide down your skin, revealing more and more of that perfect fucking skin. Absolutely perfect. This moment isn’t even one I could dream up. You, sitting bare chested on my lap with that needy yet hesitant look in your eyes. No, not even my dreams could be this good.

Leaving your waist, my hands cup your breasts, feeling their weight and fullness in my hands. My mouth is watering. My thumb runs over one of your nipples, watching it pebble harden under my gaze and touch. I’ve never seen anything so hypnotic. Eyes flicking up to latch onto yours, I watch for your reaction as I pinch the sensitive bud, teasing a shaky breath from you.

“You like that, don’t you?” My voice is low and husky as I continue to roll your nipple between my fingertips, forcing your back to arch. It puts your tits right in my face. I’m physically unable to stop myself from leaning forward and taking your other nipple between my lips. I moan at the taste of you, the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever had gracing my tongue. Or maybe the sweetest thing is the whines that leave your lips when I swirl my tongue around you, hollowing my cheeks with a harsh suck.

I can’t stop. I literally can’t stop. Switching back and forth, showing each of your breasts the same attention until you’re relentlessly squirming on top of me. You are intoxicating. That’s the only way to describe it. I’m a lost man when it comes to you.

“So fucking good,” my words reverberate against your skin as I don’t let up on my attacks. Feeling your hands wind into the hair at the nape of my neck, you hold me close as I explore your body with my tongue.

A hand slides down your hips and thighs again, just to push right back up under your skirt. I yank the material up, forcing it to bunch at your waist, and leaving me with the perfect view of your lace panties. Sitting like this, with the crease of your hips over your thighs, dressed in barely anything; this is heaven. I’m sure of it. My thumb traces the seam, dipping into the crevice between your legs. Growing bolder, my thumb ghosts over your clit through your panties.

“Harry…” you whine, and it’s music to my ears.

“Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you need,” the words tumble out of my mouth with no thought behind them, too focused on watching my finger disappear between your legs.

“You…” you breathe the word, shakily, “I need you.”

Well, fuck me.

My thumb presses down on your clit, still over the thin layer separating us, and your hips buck involuntarily. “Yeah? Is this what you need, baby? Need me to touch you?” You nod, helplessly, forcing friction from my unmoving thumb and your twitchy hips. “Words, baby. I need your words.”

“Y-yes! Yes…please.”

They were right when they said that was the magic word.

Finally giving you what you want, my thumb starts a lazy circular rhythm over your sensitive bud. The most delicious cries leave your lips every time I purposely add a bit more pressure. I can feel the heat radiating off your core, like a magic spell dragging my thumb down the seam of you to press against the mess you’ve made. The growing dampness I can feel through the fabric has my hips bucking up toward you. Your wetness seeps through your panties, making a mess on your inner thighs, and—damn—is it a sight to see. I cup you through the material, giving you something to find friction on while pressing against your clothed entrance with the tips of my fingers.

“You’re so wet,” I whisper, amazed, “so wet for me.”

You nod in response, unable to do much else than moan as you find your own pleasure against the skin of my hand. Well, that just won’t do.

I tug your panties to the side, exposing your soaking wet pussy to me. A shuddering moan escapes me as a gasp gets ripped from you. My gaze is burning into the perfect, glistening pink skin, and I think you can feel it too, grinding against the air. Staring up at you, your eyes are half-shut and glazed over, holding yourself stable with a firm grip on my shoulders. But everything in you trembles when I run a single finger through your folds, feeling how deliciously wet you are against my rough skin. Your eyes pinch shut, your hands gripping me like a vice, as a whimper tumbles out of you.

I trace your slit, dragging your mess up and down your core and lightly brushing against your clit. I push at your shoulders lightly, forcing you to lean back and give me a clearer view. Watching my fingers pull your lips apart and your entrance clench around nothing. Holy fuck.

The next time my fingers trace down you, I slip my middle finger inside. Your walls clamp down around the intruder, gripping my finger snugly.

“God, you’re tight,” I rasp, slowly pulling my finger out just to press it right back in. You’re a moaning mess above me, but I’m too focused on watching my finger disappear into you to even pay attention.

I drag my single finger out just to press back in with two. Your hips writhe against the feeling, but I don’t speed up. Keeping my tantalizingly slow pace of pushing in and pulling out.

“Harry, please…” you gasp out the words, forcing my attention to your face. That fucking face. Lips red and bruised, eyebrows scrunched together and jaw slack. You’re a sight for sore eyes.

“Please, what, baby?” I have to force the words to come out without a groan when your pussy clamps down on my fingers again.

You whine at my insistence. “Please… Harder. Faster.”

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” You nod, but this time I don’t beg for you to say it out loud. I’m on the verge of snapping. “Then that’s what you’ll get.”

I wrap an arm around your waist to hold you in place as I finally let my instincts take over. My fingers gain speed, thrusting in and out of you just how you wanted. The sounds of my fingers slamming against your wetness draws a dark moan from the back of my throat. I can’t pull my eyes away from your face. Watching as it screws up with pleasure, your moans filling the confined space.

“You feel so good,” I moan, curling my fingers inside of you. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock.” I press against the spongy skin inside of you, stimulating it and watching you fall apart in my arms. It makes you grip onto my hair instead of my shoulders, dragging my face closer to your body. I take that as an invitation to wrap my lips around your nipple again, lapping and sucking until I can feel you teetering on the edge. “That’s it, baby. Let me make you come.”

I press my thumb against your clit and you cry out, arching your perfect tits into my face. I have half the mind to motorboat you. Instead, I change the angle. Slowly, I push off against the wall and guide you down to lay flat on your back. My fingers still slamming and twisting and fucking into you without remorse. With one hand to hold myself up by the side of your head, I continue to attack your breasts with my mouth, until you're covered in my marks. My lips travel down your sternum, licking a strip from the underside of your breasts to your belly button. I dip my tongue into the valley and you gasp, eyes snapping open to watch me. The cocky smirk that breaks out on my lips has your eyes threatening to roll back, but you fight it, I can tell. You want to see what I’m going to do next.

Planting hot, wet kisses down your pelvis, I make way between your legs. Meeting my fingers and their brutal pace, I replace my thumb on your clit with my tongue. Rising onto your forearms, you get a front row seat.

My eyes nearly cross at the taste of you, lapping up the sweetness that covers your core. My fingers repeatedly hit your g-spot as my lips suck your clit into my mouth. My unrestrained moan only brings you more pleasure.

“Harry! I’m gonna—ah!” you scream out as I feel your walls clench and tightly.

“Yeah?” I rasp between flicks of my tongue. “You’re gonna come on my fingers? Gonna come for me?”

You don’t have a second to respond between your gasps, moans, and whines. Hips bucking up against my face, I roll my fingers into you and swirl my tongue around your clit. I can pinpoint the exact millisecond your orgasm rips through you.

Screaming out my name, your hands land in my hair and tug, body trembling against the floor. I flatten my tongue against you and let you ride out the waves against it, my fingers slowing their assault before pulling out all together. Tossing your thighs over my shoulders, I finally dive in for a real taste.

You cry from the overstimulation, feeling my tongue lapping up every last drop of your release. I eat you like you’re the last drops of water and I’m stranded in the desert, moaning every time your taste hits my tongue. I can’t stop. Not even to take a breath or give you a second to come down. My tongue plunges into you and I’m certain I could die a happy man right here right now. With you squirming and begging for a second to catch up, and my hands squeezing your flesh anywhere I can get my hands on.

I don’t even notice that I’ve been grinding my hips against the floor until a strained moan hits your core. I need to make you come again. I need it like I need oxygen. And that rubber band holding of restraint that was once holding me back has obliterated into dust.

I nuzzle my face feverishly against your core, rubbing my nose against your clit as my tongue loses sanity against your perfect pussy. My own hardness is so painful, straining against the material of my slacks. I can’t help myself from reaching down to unzip my pants and palming myself over my boxers.

I lift your hips in the air to dive deeper, taking every piece of your resolve with me.

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, tensing your frame as your hips grind against my awaiting face. I lap up your juices, my mind failing me at the intensity of it all.

I need more.

Finally getting a breath, I pull my face from between your legs, my lips and chin glistening from you. I don’t plan on ever wiping it off. Your legs flop back onto the floor, like a ragdoll.

“God, you’re perfect,” I speak mindlessly as I sit back on my knees, reaching for the buttons of my shirt. I’m burning up. You lay on your back panting, eyes dazedly watching me. “You okay?” I check.

You nod, a slow, lazy smile growing on your face. You’re completely spent and I’ve barely even begun.

“Good…” I toss my shirt to the side, leaving me bare chested in front of you. I don’t miss the way your eyes trail down my skin, burning a map on your journey. I lean over you, my face hovering over yours just inches away. Close enough for you to feel my breath hit your face when I say, “Because I’m about to bury my cock so deep in your perfect, little pussy.”

One of my fingers sliding through your folds emphasizes my words, making you gasp. I grab your hips and lift them off the ground, making our centers connect. Rubbing my boxer-clad bulge against you, you mewl. “You have no idea how badly I need to be inside of you right now,” I grunt, snapping my hips against yours. “Do you want that, baby? You want me deep inside of you?” You nod, but this time I demand words. I need to hear you say it. “Say it.”

“I want it,” you gasp. “I want it! Please!”

My hips snap again. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“I want you… Deep inside of me,” the words finally break free from your lips, just as a groan leaves mine.

I’m immediately fumbling with my pants, yanking them down my legs and kicking them off not so sexily. You don’t seem to notice though, if anything you’re the opposite of shuddered by my fumbling. You just squirm and writhe, begging for my attention again. Fuck. My boxers are the next to go, joining the heap of clothes we’ve created in the corner of this small space. But when you go to sit up and peel your skirt off your body, I reach out and stop you. Your eyes look up at me, confused.

“That’s staying on,” I murmur, eyes trained on the bunched material covering the tops of your hips and your waist.

Those fucking pencil skirts.

You comply, laying back down and finally letting your eyes trail over me. From the top of my hair, to the swell of my thighs straining to keep me upright. Though your attention does seem to focus more on my throbbing cock that stands at attention for you.

I grab your legs and wrap them around my waist, forcing your hips to raise and meet mine. Our moans harmonize when my length nestles between your folds. I’m unable to stop my rocking hips. Your own hips meet my lazy strides, causing a ripple of pleasure to shockwave through me.

I pull back slightly and grab the base of my cock, stroking myself a few times as I bring my tip against your folds. I’m leaking precum against you, my jaw slack as I run myself through your drenched core.

“Harry, please,” you beg, your voice needy and desperate.

I don’t tear my eyes away from your center. “Please what, baby?” I slap the head of my cock against your clit, watching you jump and squirm in surprise.

“Please… Fuck me.”

“Yeah?” I drag myself to your entrance, just barely pressing in but already feeling your warmth envelop me. It takes all my strength to hold back. “You want me to fuck this tight, little cunt?”

I push just my tip inside, gnawing down on my bottom lip to keep my composure, but you’re not so slick. “Y-yes! Yes! Please!”

Your walls are so tight around me, I could finish right now. Squeezing me and begging for more. I don’t have the self control to tease you anymore. Not when your body so clearly needs this—needs me.

I don’t waste anymore time, thrusting inside of you and filling you completely in one swift motion. One strangled gasp from you and a guttural moan from me. Nails biting into my shoulders as I stretch you open, unwarranted sounds spilling from me as your pussy flutters around me.

My head falls back in pleasure. “Fuck,” I sigh. “You feel so good.”

I adjust my grip, holding your thighs wrapped around me as I slowly pull back out. You whimper, but it’s cut off with a moan when I slam my hips back against yours. I don’t start slow, there’s no point. Not when my body is screaming at me to just take you. Claim you. With a vice grip on you, I continue my relentless pace, ramming my length into you. Your moans are unrestrained now, bouncing off the steel walls and mixing with the sounds of our skin slapping together.

“So tight,” I grunt, my teeth clenched. “So good.”

My hands are frenzied. Smoothing over your skin and gripping anywhere I can get a handle on. I steady my hips as I latch onto yours, using the leverage to move your hips for you. I drag you on and off my cock, watching it disappear into your wet hold. Using you like a toy for my pleasure, I pick up the pace and force your hips to slam against mine. The small rolls you do on your own have me feeling mental. Nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing will ever feel like this again.

And it’s taken to the next level when you use your abdomen to pull yourself up, sending me back onto my calves. Your hands grip my shoulders as you settle into a perch on my lap, grinding your hips against mine. Taking control. Dammit, you’re sexy.

“Yeah?” I pant. “Taking what’s yours, huh? Using me to get off?”

You don’t respond with words, but you do let your lips do the talking. Bending down, your lips attach to mine in a sloppy kiss. It’s hard when pants and moans are constantly spilling, but I swallow every sound you make. Your hands slip to my chest and push me backwards, landing me flat on my back and mirroring your previous position. My length falls out of you from the change of angle, but you’re quick to fix your mistake.

Wrapping your hand around my cock, it twitches from the contact. As you move to hover over my lap again, you stroke me lazily, and my hands grab your hips. When I feel you dragging me through your dripping folds, my head falls back and my eyes roll. Not giving me a chance to breathe before you sink down onto me again.

You stable yourself with both hands on my chest, burning my skin with your dangerous touch. Hips sliding and grinding against mine, you’re much softer with your movements. But, dammit, if it doesn’t have me losing my mind just the same. I reach behind you, grabbing a handful of that perfect ass I’ve shamelessly stared at far too many times. It feels so much better to have it in my hands. So much so, my other hand has to join it. Groping both of your cheeks, I guide your movements over me, setting a pace that fulfills both of our needs.

When your hips rise and fall over me, I hiss and squeeze your plump skin tighter. So you do it again. And again. And again, until I’m not controlling the pathetic sounds that leave my mouth. You bounce and grind with a practiced ease, taking the pleasure you need from me.

“You like bouncing on my cock, baby?” A sly smile grows on your lips and you speed up. “Damn right you do.” I smack your ass.

To my—very pleasant—surprise, it rips a harsh moan from your lips. Noted. Sitting up straighter, you bounce on me without caring about the burn I’m sure you’re feeling in your thighs. So I slap your ass again. It has your movements faltering.

“Does my baby like to be spanked, huh?” You nod breathlessly as I continue to smack and palm your ass. It fits so nicely in my hands, I can’t resist. But the pleasure you’re finding from it is slowing you down, losing your rhythm.

So I take control again.

Planting my feet on the floor, I push up until my knees are pointed in the air. Grabbing onto your hips, I still your movements and hold you right where I need you. Then I go to town.

I thrust up into you with a brutal force, wrenching a scream from deep in your soul. Your top half falls forward, nearly collapsing on top of me. Grunts and moans leave my lips without permission as you barely hold yourself together. This new angle is deep and rough, hitting all the right places inside of you and making you clamp down onto me with a vice grip.

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” I groan. “You’re taking my cock so well. Fucking perfect… So fucking tight,” I grit the words out. And when your hips start to grind against my thrusts, I stare down at the edge of my pleasure. “Shit! You’re so hot…”

Faces mere inches apart, we swap oxygen between our labored pants and needy moans. I grab the back of your neck and pull your lips to meet mine. A heated kiss, moving hungrily against one another, tasting and devouring each other as we move together. I grip your hip tighter with my hand, snapping my hips up to meet yours. Your movements grow frantic, more wild, as you chase your pleasure down. I can feel your body tensing in my hold, feel you fluttering and squeezing around me, knowing you’re getting closer.

“That’s it…” I encourage, nuzzling my face in your neck and letting my hand fall back to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock.”

I grind my hips up into yours, repeatedly hitting that spot that has you crying out my name over and over again. Your body starts to shake, breathing turning erratic.

“Oh God, oh God—don’t stop!” you whine and pant and make me nearly lose my mind.

I grunt with a particular deep thrust. “I’m not gonna stop, baby.”

Whines and whimpers are your only form of communication at this point, a silent plea. Your body tenses, coils up so tight it might just send me over the edge too. And when a long, low moan falls from your lips, your body stills as you peak. I hold you tight, feeling your body tremble in my arms. Your pussy clenches so hard around me, threatening to push me out all together. I don’t let up on my thrusts, seeing the bright white light of pleasure coming for me. Your whines or sensitivity only spur me on.

“Fuck, yes, baby… So good. Come all over me. You’re perfect. So fucking good and tight. Gonna make me come so hard in that perfect cunt of yours,” the thoughtless mumbles pour out of my mouth.

“Harry, please…” I know that you’re begging for my release, feeling me slide in and out of your core.

“Almost there, baby, just—fuck!” I gasp when your walls clench around me again. “God, do that again.”

So you do. You do it over and over until my hips grow sloppy and my uneven breaths threaten to make me pass out. I’m gritting my teeth, gripping your hips, and desperately reaching for the climax that I know will ruin anyone else for me.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come! I’m gonna fill you up, baby!” I scream out the words, hips snapping uncoordinatedly up into yours. “Shit! Fuck! Yes!”

With one sensitive roll of your hips, it’s game over for me.

I gasp and choke out a moan as my hips come to an abrupt halt. My jaw hangs like it’s detached from my body all together, panting into the open air. Feeling myself spilling into you, you whimper in encouragement. And then we both go limp.

My hands fall from your hips and down to my sides and you essentially collapse onto my chest. Rising with every heavy inhale I take, I welcome your weight on me, bringing me back down to earth.

Back down to this broken elevator.

Shit, I almost forgot the situation we were in.

I reach up and run a hand through your sweat lined hair, basking in the stillness of this moment. You hum against me, the sound rattling the blood in my veins, and pushing me to continue.

This right here is peace.

“Fire Department! We’re gonna work on getting you guys out of there!”

Scratch that. This is hell.

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taglist: @tpwkmr @alex-voiddome @hsviorry @butdaddyiloveh1m

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Ok

-sighs heavily-

Today was kind of a train wreck, but ngl, I'm not surprised, considering what happened yesterday

Eclipse,, definitely said some things that he shouldn't have. Not to Charlie, who is a litteral child and is still learning. He had every right to be angry and to blow up on her, when you take into account everything that she's done to him (the teeth thing, the baby incident, going into his head without permission (I think? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong)), but still. There are limits and boundaries, and something that should be off limits to say to a child is that the best thing she did was die. I understand his anger and frustration since this has been building up, but again, he went too far

Charlie, meanwhile,, had no right to suddenly scream at him like she did. It's like she forgot all about the nice things he's done for her (making her last days as a human as comfortable as possible, easing her pain during death, throwing her a birthday party, reuniting her with her dad, etc). He hasn't ALWAYS been mean, he's just under an incredible amount of stress right now. The fate of the world is literally resting on his shoulders, and I don't think she fully comprehends the seriousness and severity of that. I don't expect her to, since. She's only 11, and all, but still

Ruin shouldn't have told her to distract Eclipse, and he shouldn't have blown up at her like he did. He's under an enormous amount of stress and frustration, just like Eclipse is, and trying to sort of indirectly sabotage whatever Eclipse is doing, is just playing dirty. Telling Charlie to distract Eclipse wasn't a good idea either, since Ruin knew how badly Charlie wanted to help, and I'm like 1000% sure that he would've known she'd do it. The only thing he couldn't have known was HOW. Buuuuuuut,, if I'm being totally honest, I don't blame him for exploding at Charlie, either. Again, he's under an enormous amount of stress, and he's desperate to save his Monty, and he's frustrated because nothing seems to be working. Charlie kept offering suggestions, but she essentially kept offering the same idea, even though Ruin explained to her multiple times, in the simplest ways possible, that anything involving her powers wouldn't work. Idk about you, but I think I'd get tired of repeating myself over and over, too

Honestly, considering yesterday, I'm surprised that Eclipse was ok with Roxanne being anywhere near him, but at the same time, she probably just insisted on being there, and he probably didn't care enough to yell at her about it. She.... probably shouldn't be the one to talk to him about today, though. After the bullying yesterday, the best thing I think she could do for him would be to leave him alone and give him space. Solar Flare,, did a good thing by intervening like he did. It's nice that he wants to try talking to Eclipse, and I hope he maintains a middle ground, instead of picking sides, since... if he leans too much into berating Eclipse, that'll just piss off Eclipse even more

TLDR; Everybody sucks and everything is a giant mess. Y’know. Again. Some of it is understandable, but some of it definitely went too far, and they need to learn how to better respect each other. In this extremely crucial time when they should be working together, the worst thing they can do is tear each other down

[unhingedangstaddict]

S8E15 Meta Fic - Warning Spoilers Ahead Words: 695

Ravi had been warned about the 118 A-shift a long time ago. He’d heard whispers about them at the academy and after he was assigned to the 118 B-shift, they told him all about the A-shift.

“They have the worst luck of any shift, any station in LA.”

“They’ve all nearly died like a million times. Seriously.”

“They take work-family to a whole new level.”

“They’re like weirdly co-dependent.”

“Don’t get attached to any of ‘em.”

At first Ravi thought everyone was being dramatic. And he quickly learned how wrong he’d been to underestimate what he’d been told. Ravi knew that if he really wanted to avoid any trauma, he was in the wrong line of work. But he didn’t need any additional, unnecessary heart-break or trauma. He’d already had enough from his childhood to last a life-time. So Ravi tried to keep his distance, not get attached. Ravi worked with them when needed, when it was requested of him. And yeah, he liked working with them- could’ve done without Buck chasing him with a chainsaw- but overall, they were a great team and they all cared very much about their jobs and each other.��

Still, Ravi kept his emotional distance as best he could. He said he really didn’t know them when the police stopped them during the treasure hunt. He only allowed himself the respectable amount of concern for Eddie when Ravi learned Diaz had been shot. Ravi worked with them without allowing himself to get too caught up in everything they all had going on. On the edges of their group, on the outside looking in. Sure, he went out with Buck for drinks when Buck was missing Eddie- just to throw the poor guy a clearly much-needed bone-, and besides he’d dumped Buck with Kinard and dipped at the first opportunity.

Then the bus crash happened and Ravi failed to clear the car, and found himself beating himself up about it, at the bar with Buck again, confessing he was gonna quit. And Buck told him no, and… he actually listened and didn’t quit. But Ravi told himself wasn’t getting attached to them. He was still just on the outside looking in. At least that’s what he told himself.

And suddenly he was trapped inside a locked bio-lab with Hen, Chimney, and Captain Nash and Chimney had Ebola’s nastier cousin, and there was an antiviral right there and some US Army Colonel was ordering him to stand down, threatening domestic and international terrorism charges and time in supermax.

And Ravi couldn’t deny that he’d been sucked into the 118 A-Shift’s weird codependent family anymore. Not when the possibility of terrorism charges and supermax prison was staring him in the face and he looked at the security camera, grabbed his radio and said, “If you wanna stop me, Colonel, come and get me.”

Once Chimney had been given the antiviral and it looked like they’d be out of the lab soon, Ravi confessed to Bobby, “I was gonna quit today. I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too. We wouldn’t have been able to get through this without you, Ravi.” Bobby told him and clapped him on the shoulder.

Behind his breathing apparatus, Ravi smiled at Bobby.

They finally got out of the lab and suddenly Bobby wasn’t right behind them. And while being decontaminated and answering some questions for the army and the FBI, Ravi learned Bobby wouldn’t be leaving that lab. It didn’t even feel real. How could it? How could hearing that Captain Bobby Nash was dying- maybe already dead- feel real when the entire 118 was separated, isolated from one another. How was a family supposed to grieve when they couldn’t even be together as a family? 

Because Ravi hadn’t actually committed any crimes, and didn’t need medical attention he was released pretty quickly. He kept a brave face as he went outside to find Karen and tell her that Hen was okay, Chimney too. And quickly Ravi found himself in the arms of Hen’s wife while crying over a captain he promised himself he wasn’t going to get attached to. So much for being on the outside looking in.

I told myself last night that I wasn't gonna write this, but I just couldn't stop thinking about Ravi "I barely know these people" Panikkar crying over Bobby with Karen, so I put myself through the horrors of rewatching parts of the ep so I could bring this to life. Lowkey thinking about doing a little series exploring how different characters (especially some of the side characters) feel about the whole thing like I did with this one

[b3d-r0t]

"I don't know how I ever got this big!"

its an easy thing to tell people to shed some of the responsibility, to make it seem like it wasn't your fault.

But it's not true. Not for me it's not.

Because I do know. I do know how I got this big.

I made choices.

Choice after choice, day after day, hour after hour

I chose my greed over my health over and over again.

I chose to fill my kitchen with foods that I knew were bad for me , and my choice to ignore every healthy or reasonable option at the grocery store, because my lust for sugar, fat and salt, my immediate pleasure, was more important than my health, or my life.

And I chose to stuff my face with excessive amounts of that food every day, more and more.

I chose to conveniently ignore how my clothes continuously stopped fitting after only month because I was accumulating lard so quickly.

I chose to ignore the red stretch marks covering my belly, my hips, my ass, because I was gaining weight so quickly my body didn't know what to do, sending the fat anywhere it could, stretching, ripping my skin apart to accommodate the new blubber the signs of a body overwhelmed and scarred by gluttony , screaming , begging for a break, a chance to catch up for even just a moment.

I chose not to exercise or do anything even remotely active to try in any small way to counteract some of the damage being done by the type and amount of food I was consuming, if I wasn't going to fix my diet. I chose to lay in my bed and sit on my ass day after day, letting all those calories solidify and bury me deeper in rolls rather than burning them off doing something productive.

I chose to make no changes whatsoever even as I was diagnosed with diabetes , high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and countless other ailments.

I chose to make no changes, even as I watched my weight sore past 400, 500, 600 pounds...

I chose to give up my mobility willingly and happily even before my weight immobilized me, because that way I had an excuse to fully give up , be cared for and provided for by others all the time, and never be expected to get out of bed, or work, or leave home, ever again.

I made the choice to find every way to continue to enable my bad habits, my insatiable need for more and my profound laziness rather than work to improve myself or address the issues.

I chose to slowly kill myself and ruin my body with the fat I've drowned it in

I chose my own selfish pleasure over the concern and sadness of those that watched my descent into this shell of a person, that ignored their pleas for me to make a change and take care of my health

I chose to wait to take any kind of medication until it was the only way to keep my organs just barely scraping by at least a short while longer so I could continue to consume and push the limits of my body as far as possible for as long as possible

And I choose to continue fueling the ever consuming fire of my greed and the endless pit that is my stomach today until even the life support machines can't fight off the abuse I've done to my body any longer.

I choose to satisfy my desires rather than my needs. To listen to the false hunger that constantly aches in my stomach no matter how much I eat, endlessly needing more.

I choose to continue enabling my gluttony to become somehow even worse by installing a permanent feeding tube for me to keep in my suckling mouth in the minutes between when I finish one meal and the next is brought to me, and between bites, even while I'm sleeping, because i can't go even a moment without something filling my stomach

I make choices based on what's going to make me feel good right now, not using my actual thoughts or intellect to discern what's best for me to do.

[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ You Did Well ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Type: Comfort Fluff(?)

Warning(s): human experimentation, not proofread

wc: ~1.4k

A request by one of the readers! It's been so long I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I've gotten off track with this one... but I hope you'll like this anyways! The first fic I've written in months. Enjoy! :)

After years of working like a maniac. Earning achievements after achievements. Rivaling all the other people that could only hope to get to where you were today. You finally landed yourself a job at the organization created by none other than the beloved Cryo archon herself—the Fatui. And it was not just any job positions. You got to become the assistant of one of the eleven harbingers—The Doctor, second of the Fatui Harbingers. A very impressive title indeed.

You’ve heard people there were ruthless. It didn’t help that being in such a high ranking yourself, newbie or not, there were high expectations that needed to be met. And whatever it was, you hoped you were ready.

Oh god, oh no. You panicked. It was the first day of work and you were almost late. You arrived in front of the office just in time as you panted. You tried to fix your disheveled hair to make you look like you did not just run all the way over here. To your dismay, someone opened the door before you could make yourself look presentable.

You gulped and looked up.

“Hello, sir,” you greeted, praying he didn’t hear the slight shakiness in your voice.

He was wearing a mask, but you could feel his gaze scanning you up and down.

“Hmph,” he then walked out before continuing, “You are the new assistant, aren’t you? Wait for me inside.”

He was already halfway down the hall when you scurried inside. You could feel your face burning in embarrassment.

Great. You thought. First day and I’m already making a fool of myself.

A few minutes later, he came back in, holding a stack of papers in his hand. He placed them down onto a tidied desk with a sign saying “(Y/n)” on it.

“Usually, I’d go straight into lab work with the assistants on their first day.” He spoke, leaning onto the desk. “But, I decided to try something new today. All of my previous assistants quitted in less than a week, due to them not being able to handle the pressure.”

He continued, “I’m feeling generous, so I’ll let you start off with something easy by doing paperwork. If you did well, good for you. If not, I’ll fire you on the spot so you wouldn’t waste my time.”

As expected, The Doctor certainly has high demands. You glanced at the amount of paperwork that needed to be done on your desk. You’ve stayed up countless times to complete your thesis before, this was nothing you couldn’t handle. With this newfound confidence, you firmly nodded your head.

“Understood. I’ll get to them right away.”

From his stance, he seemed to be satisfied with your answer.

“When you’re done with them, just leave them on my desk. If you have any questions, don’t bother asking me. Just solve them yourself,” he said, before entering the other section of the office that leads to the lab.

You took a seat at your desk and picked up a pen.

Well then, time to get some work done.

= = =

For the first week, work wasn’t so bad. Most of the time it was just tons and tons of paperwork. It got boring after a while, but at least you were able to get them done on time. Earning yourself a pleased hum from The Doctor each time you handed them in.

So far, so good.

“The paperwork for today is done, sir,” you said, placing the papers down onto his desk.

He nodded. “As efficient as always. I think you’re ready.”

You were puzzled by what he meant. You wanted to ask but didn’t want to bother him. So you just left, hoping whatever he was implying wasn’t anything bad.

= = =

The next day came and you were up and early, waiting for him at your desk. He entered the office not too long after, but something was different, he wasn’t holding a stack of paper like he normally was. Instead, it was a lab coat.

“Judging by your work these past few days, I’ve decided that you’re ready for something a little more… exciting.” He then threw the lab coat at you, for you to clumsily catch it.

“Follow me.” Was all he said before opening the doors to the lab. You quickly put your coat on before following closely behind.

The first thing you noticed was the pungent, iron-like scent, your nose picked up on in the air. It made your stomach twist and turn. The Doctor’s frame was taller than yours, blocking your view of the center of the room.

“This, as you may have already guessed by the interior, is the lab. And today, we’re going to do some testing with the new liquid I concocted on a volunteering subject.” He then moved away from your view. And what you saw in front of you made your skin crawl.

The Doctor put some gloves on and went over to the person, who was very much alive, strapped down to the operation table with multiple wounds apparent on his body.

“Come,” he simply said, gesturing you to go over to where he was standing.

You could feel your legs wobbling as you walked to him. Your steps were hesitant and your eyes were on the person with a gag in his mouth, muffling his pained pleas. You then felt something in your hand. You looked at what The Doctor gave to you—a syringe filled with some glowing liquid.

The Doctor took some disinfectant wipes and applied it onto the subject’s arm, preparing for an injection.

You could feel cold sweat forming on your palms. You knew experiments would get involved taking up this job. But you were not expecting to have a human test subject. One that was still living and breathing.

This… this isn’t right. Your mind screamed.

The Doctor took a step backwards, giving you some space.

“Go on. Let’s see how you’d do. I’ve read in your resume that you’ve handled syringes and injections before. So this should be a piece of cake for you,” he spoke, eagerly watching your every move.

Should I just call it quit? You asked yourself. Finding it difficult to choose in this dilemma of yours. It took you years of hard work to get here. Should you really quit just because you were simply uncomfortable?

Come on. I’m the assistant of one of the most powerful harbingers. It would be shameful of me to back down just because… You argued. You could feel your heartbeat pulsing violently throughout your body as you raised your hands. The tip of the syringe stopped just inches before the man’s arm.

You could feel it. The Doctor was getting impatient by the second. You could hear the sound of his shoe tapping against the concrete floor, “Well?”

This felt wrong, very wrong. But you had no choice, if you wished to keep this job of yours. You mouthed a “sorry” to the squirming man, before pushing the syrinige into his flesh, closing your eyes and injecting the unknown substance into his body.

“Bravo, took you long enough.” The Doctor said.

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it… hm?” He grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him. You were wondering why he did that until he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“It seems like you are in distress.”

You touched your cheek slightly and it felt wet.

Well, okay. This is embarrassing. Crying in front of a harbinger. He’s going to fire me now because I’m crying over such a small task.

“I take it this was your first time experimenting on a live human being?” He asked, in which you answered with a nod.

“I figured.”

“I-I apologize for my incompetence, sir! I’ll do better next time and—”

“I didn’t ask you to explain yourself. It was a yes-or-no question,” he said.

“I was expecting you to quit when I saw you trembling. But my, oh my. You did so well.” He carried on, “I must say, you did so much better than my previous assistants. Yes, what we’re doing might be considered morally grey in the eyes of others. But keep in mind, this is all done for a better understanding of science; and of course, to fulfill her majesty’s dreams, in the grand scheme of things.”

He then gave you a little pat on the head.

“So you needn’t regret what you’ve done. All you need to know is that you did a great job. And I must say… you might be my favourite assistant, so far.”

He wiped your tears.

“Do me a favor, and don’t dwell on what happened today, because there would be more of this to come. And soon, you’ll get used to this, understand?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Upon hearing your response, you could see a grin forming on his face.

“What a good little assistant you are.”

[cheesus-doodles]

It's funny lowkey for me whenever you write about the reader being unable to resist the tears and puppy eyes because since I'm the third oldest out of ten (oldest daughter, just number 3 in the line up) I've become immune to puppy eyes and if my own siblings can't work that on me I doubt that the Founders could. So I was wondering how you think said Founders would be like if Darling was immune to the puppy eyes, especially if said Darling is like me and has a bunch of younger siblings >:3c

Immune to puppy eyes+multiple younger siblings anon here, feel free to ignore that though if it isn't a prompt you want to do! No pressure at all!

aksjdnaskjdnas finally getting round to answering some of the older asks ;-; sorry it takes so long y'all - just disappointed in myself today cause I hesitated to buy Izzy's standee and in that moment he sold out ;-;

‎

Masterlist

Upon reflection, the Toman founders really are like younger siblings huh. Maybe not so much Draken, Mitsuya or Pah, but definitely your needy trio of Mikey, Baji and Kazutora who would be as good as clingy younger brothers with separation anxiety. Or maybe more so like puppies, but same difference in the end.

I think it would only take just the first visit to your house and a glance at all your younger siblings clamouring for you to help them with something for the realisation to set in with the Toman boys that no amount of tears or puppy eyes would work on you. No doubt Mikey and Kazutora would still try, but the boys would be quick to turn to other means to wring out what they want from you.

Draken and Mitsuya find out quickly that annoying you into giving in and doing what they want works pretty well - after all, Misty himself has two younger sisters and he knows what buttons they usually push to get him to do things for them. Though they personally don't want to whine and plead (they are still delinquents with some measure of pride after all), they know who will, and young kids are easily bribed for their help. Sets your younger siblings on you with a small bribe of sweets and with their help, would ultimately manage to force you into doing whatever the two Toman boys wanted just to get the hassling and pestering to stop. Sometimes even pretend to step in to help you stop the non-stop disturbance so that you can get your homework done, no doubt putting them in your good books. High fives all around, no doubt Draken and Mitsuya are the more popular pair around your place.

Mikey and Kazutora, on the other hand, have no such dignity left when it comes to you. The two of them would definitely still try their tears and puppy eye combo a few more times just to be sure it doesn't work before they switch tactics. Would do literally anything to get your attention and affection on them, even if it means blackmailing you - stealing your homework and holding it hostage, refusing to leave the bathroom whenever you need it unless you pinky swear to spend time with them afterwards, dragging you out of class and straight up sitting on you and not moving. Tears and puppy eyes were the easier option if they were honest, but whatever works ain't stupid. Your siblings couldn't get to you when you are in school, but they can, and these baby boys absolutely will, threatening to kick up a fuss and disrupt every class if you don't let them lay on your lap and cuddle. Tried to give you some of their favourite snacks as bribery but obviously didn't work cause they were all half-eaten, so back to disruption they went.

And then there's Baji and Pah - the two who have individually consulted outside persons and have come to the same conclusion. Baji would have asked his mum on advice on how to steal your attention (she thinks he's trying to get a girlfriend), while Pah will ask Peh, and the two airheads will end up bribing and buying your time and attention. Baji would take advantage of the community cats that he cares for and invite you along to feed and play with them whenever he could - none of the other Toman boys can get as close to them as he could, and he knows all the good spots too. The community cats let you pet and rub them since you were with Baji, and this baby boy would use the opportunity to get your attention and affection. Pah is the best out of the six at arcade games, so buying your time with games and prizes was no brainer (or at least that was what Peh told him) - you did enjoy winning a ton while with him, and he got to hang out with you with no complains, so its a win-win.

End of the day, it just makes life more difficult for you if you were immune to their crying and whining, so my recommendation would be to play along when its convenient and encourage the behaviour rather than let the boys come up with their own idea of how to get your attention: the more things doesn't work out, the more desperate the boys become. Wouldn't be long before one of the more desperate ones get the idea that if they hurt themselves, you would be sure to pay attention and fuss. Or worse, if they took out the number of people who wanted your attention, then you'll have to give time of day to them - so maybe just give them the pats and forehead kisses they want and they'll be happy to be nothing more than your clingy baby siblings.

[froggy-demon]

Oh Deer - Part Four

A/N: thank you again for all of the support!! I had to rewrite this one a couple of times because I just couldn’t decide, I hope you like it <3 I’m so excited to share my writings and I’m so astonished every time y’all leave nice comments I love them so much, thank you!! All of that said, enjoy!

Chapter Summery: Lilly is treated to a glamorous night out under the Vs’ roof, accompanied by a familiar demon, angst and tension ensues.

Masterlist | Part Five

——————————————————————————

I rolled my eyes, again, and waved away the idea. “No way, we both know Alastor fucking hates me, he just hates Lucifer more I guess.” Angel was positive that Alastor was sincere in his display earlier, I was not quite as delusional though. “He quite literally said he was fucking around.” I added. Even if I found myself fascinated with the demon, I wasn’t so naive to think that feeling went both ways.

“Maybe, or maybe he just wanted an excuse.” Angel paused and had a look of realization on his face as he broke out into a smile. “If you want some real attention though, y’know the Vs are throwing that big party if Velvette ain’t already dragging you to it you could be my plus one! Val usually keeps me pretty fucking busy all night, but they are actually pretty fun. Lots of cute demons and free booze if you know what I mean!” Angle said with a wink and laughed. That’s not a terrible idea actually, get out a little and have some fun. My streak hasn’t been so great recently so I could really use a win on that front.

“Y’know that actually does sound fun. Velvette hasn’t brought it up at all yet so she probably won’t need me there, but I also don’t have anything to wear for it, I’ll need something new. I could use some retail therapy anyway.” I said and rested my head on top of the pillow in my lap smiling. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! Angel lit up at the sound of going shopping.

“Oh I will make sure you are the best dressed demon in the whole fucking party, don’t worry about that tuts! We want something that will show you you off!” He held up his fingers like he was mimicking a camera taking pictures of me. “You got it all babe! The tits, the ass, the smile! They are going to eat you up, especially once I’m done with you!” He ranted making me laugh. I don’t think in my whole before and afterlife I’ve ever heard someone describe me that way. “I’m serious! Al will see what he’s missing tomorrow night!” Angel teased very proud of his scheme.

“This has nothing to do with him, but I do like that idea. As soon as I get off work we need to hit the shops so we still have enough time.” I said trying to plan out the next night. Angel agreed and we worked out the time table to make sure we would stay on track. Work, then shop, then hotel to get ready, then back across town to the party. Excellent, tomorrow night will be all about what I want, it’s been a while since I could say that.

After a couple more hours of giggling and gossip, like hearing allllll about how Husk and Angel made eye contact today and it was riveting, we settle down to fall asleep while the purple lights twinkled above our heads. I tried to calm my mind, but it raced just thinking about tomorrow. This party is for high profile souls, overlords and wealthy demons in hell, hopefully I don’t stick out too much, but I like to think I’ve learned a good amount from my work. Maybe it will be enough to actually go a whole night without thinking about the radio demon, I can only hope.

The next morning there was a renewed joy in my step as I walked down to the kitchen to make my morning coffee. It didn’t matter that it was far too early to be awake, or that I was about to be yelled at for the next ten hours of my day, no, I would do it all with a smile because today I actually had something to look forward to. I cozied up in a chair in the lounge with my mug and breathed in the steam while I watched the fire in the fireplace dance.

1-2-click 1-2-click 1-2-click

I can’t help but wonder what makes him need to be up so early, what business could he have at 4am? He walked through the lounge and I tried to hide the fact that I was watching by playing on my phone. I couldn’t stop myself from taking in the sight of him with curious eyes, he was less put together than usual. His ears were tucked back and he wasn’t wearing his waistcoat. It was an odd sighting for him to not have it on. Without it you could see his sleeve garters which gave him an almost rugged look like he had been pouring over his desk for hours, and then you could see his little deer tail. He didn’t greet me and I was not going to be the first one of us to say anything so he passed through the room quietly. After he did, I took another sip of my coffee. Maybe his broadcast had given him some sort of trouble, or perhaps he had been returning to his M.O. from before his absence of torturing souls he saw fit on the air. I don’t care to listen to his broadcasts, when anything important happens I will know either from sinstigram or Velvette yelling about it the next day.

After a few more minutes of enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning hotel I cleaned my mug out and made my way to work.

Upon arriving I could tell I was going to have a few extra duties today. They were already decorating the main event space elsewhere in the building, I could tell by the exorbitant number of tables and decor being moved around through the halls, and if there is one thing Velvette loves it is to micromanage how something looks. I go up to the studio and start collecting my clipboard and the ever growing list of what must get done today. Between keeping tv personalities well dressed, reshoots for the launch of Velvette’s fashion line, and now the party I think I’m going to need a second pair of arms. I guess that’s what we have the studio aids for.

“I need the Art Director for Velvette’s line in the studio, we need to confirm details and revisions.” I spoke into my earpiece and waited for confirmation before moving onto the next task and then the task after that. Finally some time later Velvette joined us in the studio and started barking her own orders as well. I joined the collection of demons flocking to her side for their morning abuse.

“Fucking finally, Lilly I need you to make sure everyone to set downstairs before you leave today. Make sure you have the vision plan and everything else I had them work up so you actually know what the fuck you’re supposed to be checking. If a single fucking chair is at the wrong angle it is your fault. Me and Vox have put too much fucking work into this party tonight for it not to look right I need perfection from you today. Even the seven bloody deadly sins are coming so if anything is not exactly the way I fucking pictured it, your leash will become very short.” She ordered and I nodded quietly. “Until then I need the stupid fucking art director for my line up here now!”

“Yes Ma’am. The Art Director is waiting for you with the concept photos for final approval.” I stated. She smiled, not exactly rare, but not exactly common especially while she was working.

“Finally you use that fucking brain of yours to get shit ready before I have to tell you to. How refreshing! In that case find the makeup artists, they keep running off to hell knows what and I’m this close to snapping one of them in half to set a fucking example, ungrateful little shits!” And with that she left to yell at the next soul she could find.

I spoke into my earpiece again, “Creative Director for Events, where are you? We need to check in immediately.” Upon confirmation that they were downstairs in the event space I headed there myself and we went over the binders of planning and inspiration the Vs had laid out. The event hall was really more like a grand ballroom, as hypermodern as the Vs were, it would seem they still found charm in some old world aesthetics. With massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, white marble floors, and dramatically draped floor length windows, it nearly looked straight out of a period piece. The colors for the party were blue and black, sounds like Vox won that argument. The tables were being set up with black tablecloths and vibrant blue hydrangeas, I didn’t even know you could grow those in hell. There were demons running all around the space sweeping, bringing things in, decorating the stage, the bar, exchanging the drapes out to match the color scheme.

I checked every chair and table to make sure they were level, every centerpiece for dead flowers and leaves, the stage for splinters, the drapes for snugs in the fabric. “Do we have the staff apparel ready?” I asked the director. She was a short demon who was lizard like with one large eye in the center of her head.

“No, we hadn’t coordinated that yet.” Of course not. I mentally rolled my eyes, luckily costuming was my bread and butter.

“I’ll handle that then, how much staff will there be tonight?” I asked clicking my pen so I could jot in down. 100 serves, 10 bartenders, 5 bands, 45 miscellaneous staff on the floor, okay, doable. “Keep a handle on everything down here, I’ll track all of that down, do not let them fuck it up.” I said and she gave a polite nod. Awesome, 160 coordinated outfits, because that won’t take all day or anything.

I spent a good few hours tracking down various sizes of royal blue suit vests and dress pants, royal blue suit jackets, royal blue button up shirts and black ties, royal blue knee length skirts, shoes, but it was possible with the size of our costuming department. By the end of the day I had neatly organized racks of outfits for each position and each size with a skirt or pants option. Staff was just beginning to trickle in the door and I assigned a few studio aids to help make sure everyone had the clothes they required for the night. Before it was too late I did one last once over of the ballroom. Centerpieces were good, chairs good, all the ambient candles were lit, I could see the bartenders just beginning to organize the bars, the bands were setting up their equipment, I think I might have actually pulled this one off.

I breathe a sigh of relief and I finish triple checking my work. Everything is set in place which leaves only one more thing: myself. I handover to the Event Manager who has arrived for the evening and she thanks me for getting us here, something I’m not very used to hearing. I thank her and text Angel Dust that I’m on my way out the door at work and am heading out to pick out a dress. He immediately texts back that he is on his way to the front of the building as well and we will meet there. I gather myself and get there just as he is.

Angel is in good spirits as he links his lower arm with mine, which is still a bit tall for me, and we start wadding through shop after shop. We know we are on a time crunch, but Angel seems to have something very specific in mind. Finally after trying on at least two dozen dresses and probably half as many shops, when I step out of the dressing room his eyes light up and a big smile spreads across his face.

“Oh baby, that is the one!” He spins me toward the mirror and I can’t help but feel a little self conscious. “You are going to be turning heads all fucking night in this little number! We might need to hire security for you!” I laughed at the idea and attempted to pull the hem down just an inch more. It was a very short black, strapless dress with a wide square neckline and a low back. It came with a pair of matching black elbow length gloves and I could already imagine how I would pair it with accessories at home. He was right though, it looked stunning. It hugged every square inch of my body and admittedly had more cleavage than I was used to as it seemed to defy physics by still being supportive, it was beautiful.

“Angel, it might be too much, I don’t want to go overboard.” I said biting my lip, but I couldn’t stop turning in the mirror to see myself at every angle. Angel grabbed my shoulders and looked at me in the mirror.

“It’s perfect.” He assured. We bought it and took it home with just one hour left to get ready for the evening.

When he stepped out Angel was wearing a black version of his typical suit jacket and shorts, exchanging his pinkish red gloves for a baby pink pair and kept his thigh high boots, he looked incredible and I told him so, he nearly blushed for a second before lighting back up as we walked downstairs.

“Me? Fucking look at you! Little miss straight-laced, you look drop-double-dead-gorgeous tonight!” He beamed, this time it was my turn to blush. I had added a pair of dark tights and my royal blue Mary Jane shoes, with a delicate royal blue ribbon tied around my neck like a choker. I pulled my gloves up a little more to make sure they were all the way on before running a hand through my hair. I hope he is right.

“Thank you Angel, I try my best.” I said sheepishly. Angel instead upon stopping by the lounge where the rest of the group was gathered to say goodbye before we were off. We stepped into the room and I smiled awkwardly as Angel presented me, very proud of his work.

“I give to you, the new and improved Lilly!” He sang and motioned to me. Charlie looked surprised but happy, Vaggie was about the same, but had a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Sir. Pentious had a light blush but reassured me that I looked very nice. Husk was trying to hide it, but absolutely eyeing Angel. Niffty squealed with joy and ram little figure eights around us manically giggling about how nice we looked. Alastor was nowhere to be found though. “Where’s the big guy? I said I needed everyone!” Angel frowned.

“Please excuse my tardiness, I too was getting ready for tonight!” Alastor chirped as he walked into the room. He was dressed very well, his suit looked new just for the occasion as it was a slightly deeper shade of red than his normal suit and it was more simple with a short tail coat and a chain across the chest and it had a very faint pinstripe pattern to it. He looked like he had gotten a fresh haircut and maybe it’s my imagination, but even his old cane looked a little fresher to match. As I finished drinking him in I realized his eyes were going over me in the very same way.

“Since when are you fucking going to a party that Vox is throwing?” Angel asked the demon who chuckled.

“Oh I wouldn’t dare miss it, so many important demons and souls there tonight. I couldn’t give Vox the chance to twist a narrative if left to his own devices! Plus,” he pulled a small paper from his breast pocket. “He invited me.” Alastor had a wicked smile on as he stuffed his invitation back into his pocket. Angel gave me a small look that told me this was news to him, as it was to me. I guess Alastor is an overlord and Vox does seem rather keen on him. Even if they are enemies, best to keep him close.

“Well, I guess we should all get going then.” I said and before I could turn towards the door shadows crushed over us and just as quickly as they appeared they dissipated and we were in front of the event room door.

•

As soon as I saw her in the lounge I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Her dress was the most revealing thing I’d even seen draped across her figure. The visual mixing with her timid posing made something within me tick. Every curve was on display, the dress hardly covered her ass as the hem just barely brushed the top of her soft thighs, it scarcely managed to contain her chest if she didn’t have perfect posture it could be quite the display, her exposed back left her looking delicate and accessible. An anger burned in me, traipsing through a gala in such a vulnerable position, she should be locked away from such prying eyes where only I can look upon her form like this, where I can revel in it. The gentle look in her eyes made my mind race. How dare she look like that and yet so innocent at the same time, I wanted to ruin that innocent look, I wanted her eyes to hold nothing but pleasure and lust as I did so. If a soul should so much as hover their eyes over her a moment too long I might have to restrain myself from slaughtering them. As we walked into the event room Angel was quickly called away but Valentino, who blew us a sarcastic kiss from across the busy room. My eyes stayed trained on her though, she would not be leaving my sight tonight whether she knew it or not.

•

Alastor seemed in no rush to find any friends as he walked behind me through the crowded space. Hundreds of demons and overlords and hellish elites mingled around me. I secretly enjoyed his company, but me and Angel had agreed that tonight was about me and as much as I was intregued by Alastor, I knew that went one way. “Alastor, if you are going to accompany me tonight,” I turned and flashed a smile at him. “Would you perhaps be able to hunt down a drink for me to sip on? It’s awfully warm.” I asked, anxiously adjusting my gloves again. He casted his eyes across the room before answering.

“Why don’t you join me, My Dear? We’ll find it together. Then I can brief you on who not to talk to.” He stressed the end of his sentence like it was very important I don’t meet certain souls in attendance tonight. He reached to place a hand on my shoulder blade to guide me forward but I stepped to the side.

“Please Alastor, I’ll find my way to somewhere quiet until you return, I’m a big girl.” I teased a little and batted my eyes at him. I don’t know what his deal was tonight, maybe he had more foes than friends in attendance, but still I know how to get out of a sticky situation when I find myself in one, especially here.

“I insist, I wouldn’t want to abandon a lady at an event like this, who knows what kind of unsavory figure could swoop in.” The static crackled off his voice at the beginning. I felt his hand meet my shoulder successfully. His eyes burned into mine and I felt there was danger that I wasn’t aware of. I gave in and slowed to allow him to guide me towards the bar. It was quite busy and in the crowd my back was nearly pressed against his chest as we walked. I could feel the heat coming off in him, he smelled like fresh rain in the woods. I kept my hands clasped in front of me and kept a polite smile on as we finally reached the edge of the crowd for my drink.

Alastor left my side by less than two steps to order me a drink, I took the chance to look around the room. There were hundreds of finely dressed demons in attendance, a part of me was very pleased to see everyone enjoying the space I had helped to create and so far not a hair out of place.

“For you, My Dear.” He said graciously as he handed me my glass, if I remember the menu correctly this is a mermaid mule, giving it a violently blue color. “Now I think it’s about time we start making the rounds to say hello, don’t you think?” He grinned and placed his hand back on my shoulder blade as we reentered the crowd. It wasn’t really a question that explain answer. I looked up at him from the corner of my eye, he was quite cautiously watching the crowd. I couldn’t tell if he was looking for anyone in particular or not, but his mind certainly had a goal it was focused on.

“Alastor, I appreciate the escort, but really I was hoping to be on my own tonight.” He did not bother to look at me, but he did seem to see someone he wished to talk to as we gently started heading a different way. “I fear you might not be the most suitable wing man.” I teased trying to smile at the taller demon.

“I’m afraid not, besides please allow me to introduce you to the darling Rosie, overlord of cannibal town!” He motioned to the women just a couple of feet ahead of us now. She was tall and remarkably pretty even with her hollowed out eyes and her sharp teeth she managed to look friendly and lively. “Rosie! A pleasure as always!” Alastor sang.

She turned and lit up upon seeing him, waving us over. “Alastor darling, it’s so good to see you! Who’s this little number you brought along tonight? You better keep a close eye on her. I could eat her right up!” Her smile reminded me of his, but it was more sincere. She spoke with a very old dialect, but it left me thinking she ought to be sipping tea on someone’s porch with a novel in her hand. I returned her smile and Alastor introduced us.

“This is Lilly, an associate of mine from Charlie’s hotel.” He said and Rosie gave a small applause.

“It is very nice to meet you Ma’am, I am very lucky to be a resident under the princess’ trust. I hope you are enjoying the evening, I helped put it together, so please feel free to let me know if there is anything at all you need. I am positive we can make it happen.” I offered and she giggled.

“Oh such a sweetheart, you are! What a very nice swaray this is turning out to be, thank you! I can’t imagine need anything not already provided!” She assured me and she and Alastor continued to talk for a few more minutes. I watched Alastor as he did, he seemed to genuinely enjoy her company, it was a nice look on him, but his ears would twitch every so often giving away that he was still on high alert.

Eventually Alastor excused us, in search of another overlord to greet. We repeated this pattern a few times, one even joked that if Alastor was going to keep such a close eye on me he needed to put me ‘under contract’, or he would. I felt Alastor’s claws ever so slightly press themselves a little harder into my skin and his laugh was clipped. Once we had a moment to ourselves again I scanned the room for Angel or Valentino, I hadn’t seen him since our arrival, but with no luck. I did however spot another V. I could see Vox chatting up an interesting looking demon, he was tall and owl like and dressed quite regally, I recognized him as Stolis, rumor had it he did love daytime dramas so I guess I can’t be too surprised.

“Alastor, maybe I should go find Angel, just to check in on him.” It almost felt futile, of course I enjoyed Alastor’s company, and the feeling of his hand sent electric currents through my skin, but it also felt hopeless to think that he was thinking what I was thinking. Thinking about how he had looked so delightfully disheveled this morning, how he might look beneath his well tailored clothes, how the heat of his body might fully wash over mine, how his hand might feel elsewhere. It wouldn’t take more than a couple skilled movement to have me out of a dress like this and I was sure he was skilled. I nearly blushed at just the passing thought.

•

It took all the strength I had to not sink my claws into her. Why did she want to walk away so badly, I have been nothing but the perfect gentleman all evening and still she is not content. I flicked my eyes back down to hers, I could smell a faint scent of attraction from her, how sweet it smelled. Maybe I could use that to keep her close. Clearly she wanted some kind of attention tonight, I could give her a little taste. “Do I bore you? I apologize if meeting so many people was overwhelming, but it would have been rude not to.” I grinned, I allowed my hand to drop to the bottom of her back, just above her dress. “I appreciate your cooperation, truthfully,” I walked us forward and bent down ever so slightly so I could whisper into her ear. I could smell the perfume of her attraction better here, her back was stiff and I could see her chest rise and fall with every deep breath she was taking. “I don’t trust a single soul here to be alone with you, My Dear.” I said, my tone was soft but I couldn’t help the static creeping into my voice. It was true after all, none of them deserved to even lay eyes on her.

She looked up at me with sweet wide eyes, “Is that why, Alastor, you’ve kept me on such a short leash tonight?” She asked. Oh I would love to put her on a leash. “Afraid I might find a new overlord to pester?” She smiled at her own jab. “Don’t worry, I was just hoping to find a little bit of, y’know, company tonight.” Her face flushed softly and felt that pit in my stomach grow.

She wanted some disgusting demon to see her like that, to touch her like that. The idea made me sick, and more so my anger grew. The image of her sprawled out, eyes so innocent and inviting, her hair like the halo she deserved on the pillow beneath her, for someone else? I had to control my anger or before I could explain myself we would be back in the hotel, back in my room, and I needed to be here tonight unfortunately.

And that reason was walking towards us now as my smile widened I was keenly aware of my hand moving to grip Lilly’s waist instead to keep her even closer to me.

•

Alastor’s grip was strong, I followed his eyes to see what he was looking at, surely what I said hadn’t upset him like this. Then it made sense, Vox. While they have been throwing punches from afar via broadcast this is the first time they will have seen each other face to face since Alastor’s return. Vox was in the same suit he always wore, but it at least looked a little better pressed today.

“Alastor! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude not to greet the host.” Vox remarked as he walked into range. “I didn’t think we were inviting just anyone tonight?” He laughed, Alastor produced his invitation from his pocket again.

“Why, you personally signed it. There was a kiss and a heart on my invitation just like you always did.” Alastor remarked, flipping it over between his fingers to prove it, making Vox scowl slightly. I held in a giggle. His annoyed eyes landed on me and I suddenly wanted Alastor’s shadows to whisk me away from here. Work is one thing, I tolerate whatever abuse the other two Vs wish to throw my way as politely as I can to keep Velvette happy, but I’m not working now, and my back is against the chest of the soul Vox might just hate the most in all of hell. The other part of me wants to stand tall, who says I can even rely on Alastor for defense here, he’s so hot and cold with me. “And Vel’s pet, what a combination! I must say Velvette has only had the pettiest complaints tonight so that is as close as a job well down can be for her, congratulations!” Vox held out a hand for me to shake. I wanted to look at Alastor for approval or an excuse, I really wanted to not have to shake his hand, but I did. An acute ringing appeared in my ears.

“Thank you, Mr. Vox.” I said plainly. There was tension in the air between the two, but they both remained polite. It would cause too much of a scene for them to duke it out here in public. I felt the anger pooling in Alastor’s muscles as it felt like he was entirely still, not even feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed behind me anymore. I could feel his eyes bore into me, something I normally treasured, but now I couldn’t shake the animosity that was behind them even if that was not necessarily directed my way.

“I rather think red and black would have been a more flattering theme, but I guess blue is nice to some people.” Alastor quipped, adjusting his suit jacket proudly, Vox’s smile strained.

“It looks to me that someone prefers the blue.” Vox smirked and reached for the ribbon I wore around my neck, but before he could actually make contact Alastor moved us a step back. He held me with a force that threatened the delicate fabric of my dress.

“A gentleman would ask permission before reaching for a lady that way, and concede when she denies. Maybe you yourself are too modern for basic manners?” Alastor teased. His eyes burned bright red, contrasting his airy attitude and smile. I could feel his breath ticking the nape of my neck, under different circumstances I might let myself dwell on that feeling, I knew he was fired up. As bloodthirsty as Alastor may be, he has his values.

“You know I could introduce you to at least twenty demons here tonight who could show you a better time.” Vox couldn’t help but keep the irritation out of his voice as he stood with one hand on his hip, it almost sounded like a threat, I’m not sure if I wanted to know exactly what a good time entails for him. Vox played with Alastor’s protectiveness tonight. Ironically, here was someone who was basically offering me exactly what I claimed I wanted, but now that it’s in front of me and especially coming from him I had no interest. I was repulsed by the idea. I kept my back straight and tried to shake off Alastor’s grip a little, I don’t want to be intimidated by Vox right now. He doesn’t hold any direct power over me more than any other demon here. I’m sick of being pushed and pulled around so much.

“I’m plenty satisfied with my company. I’d like if you left us be now, I’m sure you can find time to taunt Alastor on any other day. We would like to enjoy the night.” I asserted. His plasma smile inverted. He looked like a petulant child being told play time was over.

“You’re welcome to reconsider, I’m sure Velvette would like-“

“Velvette does not care for my company, Mr. Vox.” I cut him off. I held back my shame thinking about her and forced myself to continue. “Goodnight, Sir.” He couldn’t hide his displeasure in my answer, clearly he had wanted to demean Alastor in some way by whisking away his date. He took two steps towards us, leaving just a foot of space in between. Baring his LED teeth he looked down at me.

“You ungrateful bi-”

“Be so kind as to let us get on with our evening wont you?” Alastor cut him off, static crackling off his words, he loomed behind me, his eyes practically begging Vox to push him further. He wouldn’t make the first move, but he wouldn’t step down once Vox did. Without looking past me Vox took a deep breath and straightened his tie returning to his dry smile.

“Enjoy the night. We’ll see you in the studio tomorrow.” Vox nodded in my direction with a glint in his eye. I stood in silence as he turned his back to us and rejoined the crowd.

I turned around to face Alastor. Part of me wanted to run away from here, be enveloped in his arms and just dissolve. Another part of me wanted his fingers to find somewhere else they could mercilessly sink into and to free me from my dress as we fell onto his bed. The part of me that won, however, was the part that looked at his angry eyes and smiled, requesting another drink. We could stay here if it meant he would keep holding onto me, if it meant he would continue to be just a step behind me no matter what, if it meant I was the center of his attention for a little bit longer. I knew I might have to pay for my disrespect in the morning, but that felt so far away at this moment. Right now I was safe, I was with Alastor, and that's all I wanted to think about. The ambient candle light danced in his eyes as he looked at me, and as much as he would hate to hear it, the contrast of the rich blue background only made his red hair and eyes look all that much more alluring.

He indulged my request and his grip on my waist was no longer lethal as he guided me to the closest bar in the event room. I ordered my drink and downed it to try to steady my head. Alastor gently hummed along to the band playing while leaning his back against the bar a little, he looked content and for a moment he almost looked like a regular person enjoying his night. If you wanted you could imagine him in life, whatever that had looked like, it was haunting.

“Alastor, would you dance with me?” I asked, unable to keep a smile off my face at his display. He stood up and took one of my hands in his and his grin grew as he gave me a small bow.

“Of course, My Dear, I’d be delighted.” He replied and we joined the dance floor not far away. I was, unfortunately, not a terribly skilled dancer, but Alastor led and I was able to follow. His arm snaked around my waist while the other kept my hand, my free hand rested on his shoulder. His eyes consumed me and I savored it. We had been close all night, but for the first time the proximity felt purposefully intimate. I nearly couldn’t bear the way he looked at me, half lidded eyes slowly raked over my figure before landing back on my own eyes. I wanted him to say something. Beside the fact that I was heavily focused on not tripping over my own feet, my heart raced and I’m not sure I could muster anything worth saying. This was the closest thing I could call a confirmation that he might be thinking what I’m thinking. Maybe he had been all night, maybe that was why he couldn’t let me out of his grip for more than thirty seconds. Or maybe he just liked putting on a show.

I was able to match his steps as we spun around the floor. He had a slightly softer smile playing on his lips. I hoped my nerves weren’t showing through in my smile, I felt like I had it under control, but as I held his gaze I wasn’t so sure my eyes were on my side. “You are a marvelous dancer, no need to worry, you are doing perfectly fine.” Alastor cooed, thinking that must be what’s caused my anxiety. I allowed myself I look past him for a moment to collect my thoughts. I wasn’t even an okay dancer, but it is sweet he would say so.

“I think you are the first dance partner of mine to say that. I stepped on many date’s toes unfortunately in life.” I admitted. Back in my dancing days I quickly fell down the rank of ladies at work to take out, I might be able to make you laugh but that’s about all I was good at on a date.

“Maybe the problem was more so with the partner.” Alastor said and twirled us around. “I seem to have no such problem.” He pulled me ever so slightly closer to him, my chest nearly against his. He was right, I hadn’t actually had much of a misstep at all. He was an excellent dance partner. He knew how to lead and to help me stay in time with him. Alastor gently guided my waist in the direction changes, or gave my hand a gentle squeeze. We were working in tandem quite gracefully.

The song came to an end and I wished it would last just a couple of minutes longer. Alastor released me and gave a slight bow, he was completely serious but I couldn’t help from giggling a little. Such a gentleman tonight. His hand returned to my shoulder blade and we melted into the crowd again. I thought about Alastor more, he is difficult, but it just makes me want more of him. I never know what I will get with him and as frustrating as it is it is also alluring. I pulled up the tops of my gloves a little, just to busy myself, as I caught my breath. I almost felt cold now without the heat of his body so close to mine, even though he was just a few inches further away than he had been it was enough for a chill to sweep through me. I hugged myself a little to compensate and blushed slightly when I realized how pronounced it made my chest. Almost immediately I felt a warm soft fabric cover my shoulders. I looked down at it as I pulled it closer to me and realized it was Alastor’s suit jacket before looking back at him.

“You looked cold, understandable given your attire, we wouldn’t want you to catch a chill now would we?” Alastor offered before I could even question him with a pleasant smile on his face. I smiled back.

“Thank you, though I paid good money for this dress, I ought to show it off. I don’t know when else I’ll ever get the excuse to.” I said and soothed the hem of my dress that just barely came down long enough. I moved to shake off the jacket, but his hand on my shoulder kept me from doing so.

His smile widened. “I think you look particularly lovely just like this!” His voice rang in my ears. Such a protective gentleman. I couldn’t help but to want to tease him.

I shrugged off his hand and his jacket, offering it back to him. “Please, Alastor, I insist.” He begrudgingly took it back and slipped the jacket back on, adjusting his cuffs. I looked up at him with shy eyes as I slowly traced my hands over my silhouette, seemingly to soothe my dress to anyone else. I watched as Alastor’s eyes followed my hands. “Thank you, I think I look rather nice, don’t you?” I asked sweetly. His eyes flicked back up to mine before I spun a little to give him a better look. His grip on his cane became tight. He looked at me like I was prey he was stalking in the forest, absolutely trained on me watching what I would do next. It burned into me and I loved it.

“You look very nice, My Dear. I think you know that.” He said, his voice was clipped, but not dangerous. I smiled. It was fun to get under his skin a little, especially given how he does it to me.

“Maybe, but I was just curious if you also thought so. You look quite handsome yourself, I rather like this suit on you.” I teased and adjusted his lapels a little. I could feel his breath again on the top of my head as I did so and when I looked at his eyes they were glowing a deep ruby color. His hand curled around my wrist, plucking it off of him. I could tell he was trying to decide exactly what to say, so I continued to press him. “Oh, does the touching only go one way? You’ve had your hands on me all night. I thought I might return the favor.” My heart was pounding in my chest as I looked at him. My vision darkened and for a moment all I could see was the glowing of his eyes and his crazed grin. When it lightened back up I knew I was back in the hotel, but in a room I had never seen before. My eyes found the forest that looked like it had been patched onto the room and I knew. This must be Alastor’s room.

The confidence I had held just seconds ago evaporated upon the realization. Alastor gently guided my chin so that my gaze was directed back at him. I knew my eyes were wide and my heart thudded against my ribs as I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or thrilled, or both. His ears were flat against his head as his eyes drank me in one last time. “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me tonight.” His voice came out low and no louder than a whisper. One of his arms wrapped around my waist like when we were dancing, but now his claws nearly pierced my skin through the delicate fabric of my dress. He held me close there, I had no answer.

Alastor used his other hand to slowly run the sharp edge of a claw along a path from my jaw, down my neck, over my shoulder, then across my back. My skin hissed at the sensation, it wasn’t even enough to truly break the skin but it sent shockwaves through my system. I stood perfectly still, I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing. I wanted him to just tell me, tell me if he craves me the way I crave him or not. I wanted more of his touch, but I was in no position to demand such a thing.

“As soon as I saw your little getup tonight,” He started to explain, deliberately fiddling with my dress’ fabric. “I wanted to whisk you up here, keep you away from any other soul who might see you in such a state.” I felt my face growing increasingly warm as he combed his free hand through my hair. “I didn’t think they deserved such a sight, but I didn’t want to upset you, My Dear, so I settled for keeping a close watch over you.” I melted into his touch as he held my cheek in his hand while he spoke. “I restrained myself then, but you have pushed me too far.” Alastor leaned his head in closer to mine, until our foreheads almost touched. His eyes were still a glowing deep red. “I’ll tell you a secret. All night I have been able to smell the lust pouring out of you, and right now is the strongest it’s ever been. You smell so sweet.” his neck dips even lower and his lips threaten to brush against my neck, the promise of sweet kisses tantalizing close. I could hear the sound of my blood pumping through my veins, I was hyper aware of every inch of my body that Alastor was touching, my muscles screamed for me to do something. Either run away or grab him and never let him go, waiting was torture. “You have to go.”

My mind raced. Alastor wanted me to leave? We were still tangled together, he made no real move to let me leave. My body ached for more of his touch, I desperately wanted more. I didn’t want to leave this moment. “Please, let me stay.” I begged, my voice breathy almost as if I was gasping for air. I didn’t need air, I needed Alastor. He slowly straightened back up and released his grasp on my waist. My skin hissed at the lack of his heat, the dewy scent of him retreating as he took a step back. He did not raise his eyes to meet mine though, instead his voice was low and gravely, charged with static and energy as he commanded me again.

“Leave.” It was not a question. I held myself back from arguing with him and backed away towards the door behind me. His shadows pooled around him on the floor. Some seemed to deliberately run in my direction as if to grab me and pull me back but any time one headed my way another would smack it back. I watched Alastor while my back was still waiting to find the wall. He was not his normal composed self, no this was raw. He almost looked ashamed, yet angry, searching for something to take that out on. I would pray for whatever creature he takes that out on if I thought it would help. The heavy rise and fall of his chest gave away just how agitated he had become.

Finally my back pressed against the wall while my hand began to search for the doorknob. I couldn’t look away, I couldn’t speak, I could barely move. Did I do something wrong? Can I fix it? I don’t want to push him too hard, but it gnawed on me, if I’d caused this outburst I want to make it right. I opened my mouth to call out his name, but before the first letter could fully form a shadow shot out to me, wrapping itself around my throat and jaw. I froze, I’ve been in the position before and did not want to make him more angry. Alastor slowly turned towards me, his breathing was labored and as he lifted his head I could see a gruesome grin on his face.

“I. Said. Out.”

I was forced backwards by the force of his shadow and only was able to disconcert the sound of his door slamming back shut as I realized I was now on the other side of it. I had fallen back from the force and found myself just staring up at his door. I suddenly felt small and alone here. Just a minute ago I had been the center of Alastor’s universe as we danced and now I was thrown aside and shut out. I wracked my brain for what had set him off so terribly.

I remembered his words, he had confessed to being attracted to me, and knowing I was attracted to him, it felt humiliating. I had felt so exposed and vulnerable in that moment, he hadn’t technically rejected me, but it sure felt like he had. My confidence had crashed. I wanted to curl up and die. I also wanted to march back in Alastor’s room and scream at him for making me feel this way, for building me up just to crush me in the end. Hot tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I forced them away. I don’t want to break down, instead I redirected the energy. You want me to leave? I’ll leave alright.

I slowly pulled myself back up and dusted off my dress, fixing myself and taking a long deep breath for comfort.. I cast one last hurt glance back at Alastor’s door and headed downstairs.

Shame, humiliation, and confusion swirled in my mind, perhaps distorting my decision making capabilities. I debated my next move, but I wasn’t in the headspace to think wisely. My feet carried me forward as if the speed of my steps could out pace these feelings. Soon my heels were clicking down the grand staircase outside the front door while my nails dug into my palm, my gloves didn’t protect me. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was walking, but I eventually found myself down an all too familiar path.

I could see the massive glowing light of the Vs’ studio signage even though I was still a solid mile away. It was as daunting as it always was, the blue neon looked like a bruise on the hellish red sky. It was fitting. The place that I looked forward to leaving everyday was suddenly a constant I could cling onto. I knew exactly where I stood here, I knew what to expect, what to do, how to act, who to be. I was thankful for that role, thankful for the rock it gave me to sink my nails into in order to hold onto something, anything, that made me feel better. Here I didn’t have to be myself and everything that entailed, I could simply be Velvette’s errandgirl, someone who did not care what that deer demon was doing back at the hotel right now. Someone who didn’t dwell on whether or not she would be able to bring herself to look into his deep ruby eyes the next time they met. Someone who didn’t miss the way he looked at her back in the ballroom with a playful possessiveness as the candle light danced behind them. No. I would be too busy for any of that.

I straightened out my back when the building came into focus drawing on a polite shy smile.

Quietly, I rejoined the event space. The party had of course continued in my absence, none the wiser to my personal angst. I cast my eyes about the room in search of Angel, unlikely as it was I couldn’t help myself. A friendly face would be nice right now, but no such luck. So I took a step forward, ever still conscious of my looks and of the crowd, and made my way back towards the bar. Alone this time, but the night was just beginning.

Part Five

Tags: @cannibalcoyote

[authorjoeypaul]

HOW I PLAN MY WRITING TIME

I've been someone who's good at being organised my whole life. While there have been times when I've been more scattered than usual, I almost always come back to my planning and organising ways. This is especially true when it comes to planning my time, working or otherwise. I thought that today I would give you a glimpse into how I make it work for me, and maybe along the way give you some tips that might help you do the same, should it work for you.

Planning has always been something that comes naturally to me, except when it comes to actually drafting, and then I'm just organised chaos because I lean more to pantsing than I do to planning. But that's not the point. The point is that it's something I've always found particularly easy, having gone from my school days and colour coded studying timetables and onto uni where I did the same, and then into writing where it took me a while to find a way to effectively plan my writing time.

I've been writing for over twenty years now. I've been published for twenty years in August and yet when it comes to having solid plans for that writing time, especially given how easily organisation comes to me, it took me a really really, really long time to find a way of planning my time that worked for me. I think some of it has to do with being chronically ill. I struggled to find a way that worked for me within the limitations of my conditions. For a long time while doing uni, and even before and after that, I would have to plan tentatively, because there was a very big chance that I'd end up in hospital for an amount of time.

While now my health has calmed somewhat, or at least I'm more able to manage at home, I have a better idea on how to make the limited time I do have work. Saying that, it still took me years to bring it to a point where I was very happy with it. I know a lot of writers who swear by bullet journals, or planners, and for a long long time, I couldn't get into it. My start in planing my time was the sticky notes app on my computer, and then I started very very small, and made sure to leave a lot of catch up days.

Those who've been on my blog before, or even on my Authortube channel, know that I will talk a lot about having adequate time to both rest, and leaving room for things going wrong. Because when you're chronically ill and disabled, things will always go wrong at some point. It even happens to the healthy people too. I didn't want to set myself up to fail. I didn't want to put too much pressure on myself, and I didn't want to be in a position where I wanted or needed to get something done in a certain time period, and just could not manage it. It was all about finding that balance between work, down time (which I'll talk about in a couple of weeks), and meeting any deadlines that I had to get things down by.

It was not easy, but then again doing things like this never are. It's rare that you land on something that works the first time you try. I did sticky notes, setting myself just one thing to do a day, with those catch up and such days included. From there I gravitated when I found a planner that worked for me, and kept with the one thing a day, but once I saw the success I was having, because in the start it wasn't only about the plan, but having the energy and time to get it done in that space. But once I hit a point where I could manage to do the things, I started to branch out, put a bit more on my plate, and make it so that some days, I had a couple of things to do a day. I didn't go for every day because even now, even after all this time, I still need to keep that precarious balance just right or I crash and fall.

So while my way works, while my planner is the right one for me, I know that my way is not the only way, and it can simply be a case of finding the right way of doing things, and everything else slots into place. Whatever you do, do it slow, be gentle with yourself, and do not think after a week, well I managed that so let's go full tilt. That will lead to crashing and burning and ain't no one want that.

Whatever you do, however you do it, good luck and I wish you the best!

Any questions? Lemme know in the comments!

Follow Joey to be kept up to date with the latest news regarding Joey and her books.

[259kmvn]

brick by brick,

badeni x reader. just indulgence, maybe multi-part.

it's not a secret that badeni likes you— that is, in relation to how little he likes anyone in general. no one in your village knows anything about him except that he's a scowling wandering scholar, and that you're the only person he's ever tolerated since his arrival. and if there's any indicator of that, it would be his not minding your presence while he conducts his research.

his back is towards you as he ponders and writes; piles of books and papers and ink establishing the extents of his boundaries. any step into that zone of processed tree bark and you'd get a lecture from him about personal space and the importance of focus in research. however, yours is a presence he tolerates more than most. the very fact that you're in the same room as him tells you so.

therefore, as to not disturb him, you too busy yourself with research. drawing your own conclusions; developing and revising models to fit your observations into. there's something to say about this anomaly here— or perhaps a slight change to your model might respond to it appropriately, but oh, it doesn't fit with this observation here— perhaps the earlier model does a better job— and then this might fit ther—

"that's it!"

you hear in your head. at first, you think it came from you- maybe your brain had figured out an answer before your consciousness did. but the growling voice booming with ecstasy doesn't really sound like something your brain could produce. so you turn around and look at your fellow scholar.

"haha! i've done it again!" the screech of a chair follows his abruptly standing up as he holds a piece of paper like it's a newborn child. well, his brain did birth the ideas inked onto it. "nice job!" you congratulate him. with the amount of self-confidence he has, you're sure your voice is a mere squeak amongst the cheerleaders in his head. still, it's only appropriate for scholars to support one another— and you have an inkling that he would do the same for you, anyway.

before you could return to your work, though, he looks at you with a wide grin. his smile is an unsettling sight, coming from someone you've only known to be serious. but you don't let that show on your face. instead, you smile back, hoping to reflect his joy and illumination. he pauses— and in quick succession, says, "excuse me," before leaving the room. you can't help but chuckle when you hear him vomiting outside for the nth time today. you're starting to catch on that he does so after every major discovery— it seems like the man only has enough space in his stomach for truth. you remind yourself to offer him food after you're done with work.

the door creaks open with his return. "do you want to talk about what you found?" you ask, somewhat knowing his answer. as expected, he says, "nope," and the p pops with a smirk. "i'm not sharing this with anyone else." it's something you don't understand and probably never will— being a believer in sharing knowledge in abundance. but you play along nonetheless. "sure, sir scholar, i'll just have to find out myself then."

earnestly, he chuckles. almost like he's leaving the door open for you to enter his realm on your own. the chuckle hangs in silence for a second— and then, he approaches you, the hem of his shirt brushing your arm as he leans against your desk. it's all of a sudden that the atmosphere weighs heavy; the chuckle he left hanging dissipating in the air. sure, there's still a slight smile on his lips, but it's taut; as if something else now weighs on it. "i..." he starts. his uncovered eye conveying thoughts you only sense as melancholic. "i am grateful. that you do not pry."

you're shocked. honest gratitude from someone like badeni— someone who so self-assuredly keeps to himself— is something you never expected to receive. you don't want to ruin this moment, so you respond, "everyone has a story," casual in your tone yet careful with your words, "but that story is yours to tell. i'm just here... as a witness."

he pauses. looks directly into your eyes— into your soul. his eyebrow twitches in his hesitation, "you remind me of someone i used to know." and he leaves the room. his few words and abrupt departure furthered your shock. but somehow, you feel like you've just uncovered something; a significant part of his story that he'd shared with you. you sigh and look up at the wooden ceiling, wishing there were answers in it. there were none.

but you're content either way. with all the walls he's had up from when he arrived at your village, you could say that that he is slowly lowering them— brick by brick, maybe he'll gradually let you in.

[omentranslates]

Owari no Seraph volume 33 author's afterword english fan translation

Hi I did it

Sorry about the month late um but I got my Krul illustration card so that's really I think what matters anyways thanks for reading :)

Afterword

This is volume 33. Since the recent plot developments have been so chaotic and fast-moving, I've been curious as to everyone's reactions while writing. We're in a dead sprint to the climax now, I'm so glad everyone is still supporting all of the characters.

I've often been asked how well I like my own characters before, and now I find myself thinking, "well I'll just show you the answer with how I write the climax." In any case, I like all of them. I'm writing this story like "AHHHHHHH, I LIKE EVERY CHARACTER AAAAHHHH." I'm working hard to continue this plot in a way that satisifes everyone.

The topic of recent for me has been moving houses, I've just moved into a place with a huge study. Right now I'm still locked in fierce combat with the amount of cardboard and also I really want to overthink out I layout my bookshelves this time. I'm a bit of a mess about leaving my previous house, it's overwhelming.

Something else that keeps coming up lately is talking to AI and, this thing, not only have I made it into my tireless nonsense conversation partner, it also responds to me with text from religious leaders and philosophers that have thought about it more than I have. I think I could play around with this thing for a lifetime. I'll have to read even more and harder than ever to stay competitive with its knowledge (lol)

For example, debating whether humans are in the end conscious in a true sense or whether we are only influenced by our environments, I could talk about this forever. Humanity is a social creature so what if my own internal self doesn't exist, but rather the me that you see, and so I'm influenced to be more like that me, which is a perception influenced by your own environment and conditions which influence you, etc.

But I don't have time in the day to talk about this stuff forever, so I've downloaded an app that blocks AI, videos and certain websites. We here really are controlled by the apps we use! (lol)

That app in particular is funny to me because I'll open it and, instead of telling me I can't go places I've blocked, it'll say something in English. It says something like "you are free." And after that it'll say, still in English, "Do what you have to." I'm like, am I talking to Guren or Kureto!??*

Guren: Just do it. Kureto: Do it. Ferid: Don't mind if I do! It's getting scary out here (lol)

With everyone's support, I'm working on the manuscript again today!

And so, next up is volume 34. That's gonna be the real climax, I'm counting on your support until the end!

I want to reign the next time in with cheers!

Also, I've mostly just written nonsense here, but I want to get serious for this last bit.

I'm so grateful to Yamamoto san. And I'm so grateful to Furuya san. We've really ended up coming a long way together and experienced with each other moments full of both joy and sorrow. With this once-a-month work of so many months, sharing each other's feelings over such distance, anyways I'm just so glad I was able to meet them. Thank you.

I also want to thank Okuyama san, who's newly in charge, for working so hard. It was him that restarted activities on the official Owari no Seraph X account (once upon a time we called it Twitter….). A round of applause for him!

With that, I most of all want to thank the readers for supporting us! And so having concluded my gratitude, I'll leave you with that til next time!

Kagami Takaya

*this is a really strange way for an app to talk to you it doesn't make grammatical sense w the character lines he compared it to but the tone is like "get your shit done" lmao

[vickyvicarious]

"it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose."

The above passage is from May 16 after the vampire women tried to drink his blood, as he realized. Today on May 19 Jonathan writes three letters to be sent home (to Mr Hawkins) on various days of June, the final one being for June 29, the end of his life.

The thing I expected was for Jonathan to wonder why he's being kept alive after today/May 19th. Dracula is, as Jonathan said, his safety "whilst I can serve his purpose". But what is his purpose? Dracula had all his real estate papers signed on the 12th (when he ordered Jonathan to stay extra and that he'll take no refusal). He is actually fluent in English. Now, a steady stream of letters will be sent to Exeter throughout June, pretending that Jonathan's returning home.

Dracula can just kill him now, or just give him to the vampire women. No one would know. I'm sure he wants Jonathan first, claiming him and claiming the lion's share, but not now when he has months yet to leave. Then once, as Dracula said, he's "done with him" maybe he'll leave the rest to the other vampires.

But I wonder why Jonathan isn't wondering why he's being kept alive until the end of June. I suppose a Doylist reason is to not give the possible answer away yet, Watsonian being him fearing to speculate without answers?

Yeah, I've wondered this myself in the past. I think for me it comes down to a combination of several factors, since there really is no single quote that points to a specific reason Jonathan seems so convinced.

Before I get into those, I do want to mention that it is possible there is still some business to be done. It's a popular interpretation that they finish the last of that all on May 12, and it does make sense with the timeline. I personally believe it. But technically, I don't think Jonathan ever mentions them signing the final papers. He says he answers all of Dracula's questions, but that could be just referring to the ones in that conversation: "When he had satisfied himself on these points of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by the books available, he suddenly stood up and said:—" ...and then Dracula brings up him staying. Again, the interpretation that they finish all their work in that conversation is totally valid/likely. But if someone really wanted to argue that there is still some amount of actual legal work to be done, I don't believe canon says anything outright to the contrary.

That's not really my take though. Here are the reasons I think Jonathan believes he will survive until the end of June, in no particular order:

What Dracula said on May 16. He heard the Count drive the other vampires back with the words:

"Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done."

Now, in the moment, Dracula's line about having work to do seems most likely to be a fib just to get them to go. 'I'm busy, scram,' essentially. But he is very clear that he isn't done with Jonathan yet. (Though the fib about being busy itself could suggest that he might keep Jonathan alive and away from them longer than he himself needed/wanted to, just as a taunt/power play against these vampire ladies. But that's less relevant since he clearly does seem to want him still.) As you point out, Jonathan notes it himself, that he will be able to look to Dracula for safety so long as he serves his purpose. The fact that Dracula comes back within a couple of days to get him to write these specifically dated letters I think suggests to him that he is likely to stand at least a chance of serving that purpose until those dates. At least, it seems that way given...

Jonathan knows Dracula by now. He can probably tell just how much Dracula really enjoys him, and that said enjoyment is in many ways what's keeping him alive. Probably at least to some degree in a sense of enjoying his company, and that is somewhat relevant since he can play on that to stay interesting even when he's not outright useful/needed. But also, importantly, Dracula's particular brand of sadism comes into play here. He loves his mind games and multilayered conversations. He's been making jokes about his own undead/supernatural status basically as long as Jonathan has known him. He enjoys manipulating Jonathan. He enjoys giving him orders and warnings and then watching to see if he will obey or not. Jonathan has disobeyed significantly twice already, by trying to get into all the locked rooms and by sleeping outside of his room. And while he was discovering locked doors early on just while going about his business, he made no move nor seemed to have any particular designs/likelihood to sleep outside his room until Dracula brought it up first. Maybe you could argue that he's been looking more tired/likely to nap about as this nocturnal existence becomes more telling on him, but still there was no real build-up at all to the warning. Which is just one of the many reasons I read it as intentional bait.

So, knowing how Dracula likes to throw out these sorts of hints, I think it reasonable for Jonathan to think he will live that long. It would be just like him to use these letters to subtly tell Jonathan: no one will know where to look for you when you go missing, I could kill you long before with no consequences, but why would I if you play along and please me? ...so play. along.

There's also the fact that Jonathan may know when Dracula plans to leave. Now I certainly don't think he knows his exact itinerary or anything. Probably not even the date he expects to go, and just how closely it lines up with Jonathan's final false letter. But it seems entirely reasonable to me for the topic to have come up during all their work talk. There's a very good chance Jonathan knows that Dracula is planning on leaving for England in a month or two, or even just "around midsummer", etc. And if he does, I think he could add that in with the previous two points I mentioned to reach the conclusion that Dracula intends to keep him around until about when he himself is going to leave. (With the caveat, always, that Jonathan must make himself interesting/nonthreatening enough that he doesn't get bored before then.)

But finally, all those things aside... Jonathan has a tendency to fixate on things. In doing so he can miss other possibilities. And I think the encounter with the vampire ladies served to, somewhat despite himself, dismiss a lot of his fear of immediate danger from Dracula himself. He's aware that he is playing a long game under threat of being thrown the vampire ladies early, and kind of gets blinders to the fact that Dracula himself might physically harm him before then. This really reaches its height near the end of his stay with his seeming obliviousness to the possibility of Dracula biting him even when the guy outright says the "tonight is mine" line. And while I think he does get bitten and just doesn't remember it because that's often what can happen when a vampire entrances/bites you, his not recognizing the possibility beforehand is something that has made several people cry censorship (on a Watsonian level from Jonathan or Mina, and on a Doylist level from Stoker because he knew it wouldn't be accepted). But I think it can be attributed to a combination of Jonathan getting fixated on the ultimate threat (the women) and also on some level recognizing that if Dracula was going to give him to them after he was through, then he'd likely survive whatever Dracula planned for him anyway, so it wasn't as necessary to focus on. (Some of his single-mindedness definitely reads as more calculated at times.)

All this to say, Jonathan may just be overlooking the possibility that Dracula isn't planning to keep him around that long. That or he may be aware of the idea but is dismissing it without mention because it's totally unhelpful to dwell on. He has to approach the situation the same way regardless, fawning to please Dracula while looking for a chance at some other way out. He's stalling for time no matter what, so why not assume he has the most time it seems reasonable to hope for, at least in order to keep himself from completely breaking down and giving up before then. For some semblance of morale if nothing else. He's definitely not going to live past then, but maybe, maybe, until then.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 6: Cheesy Halloween - Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A tiny bit of NSWF, f!flashing but that’s about it, no details this time ... :) u dirty gremlins

Type: One shot

Request: N/A

Word Count: 1,932

Prompt: Tate decides to take the reader on an unexpected at-home Halloween date. 

Notes: I want to really see how long I last with this challenge I put on myself. Also just a side note, let’s appreciate how creative Tate could be as he’s confined at home. That’s actually- my heart? You deserve it entirely. 

The breeze flew past your cheeks, leaving a rushed red stain across your cheeks. Looking down to the pavement, you watched your feet as they kept up with you. Today was a disappointing day to say the least. 

Nothing significant happened today, but this was kind of why it was disappointing. It seemed like Halloween wasn’t too exciting this year, it was only getting less and less anticipated as you grew older and yet there was a part of you that was disappointed. 

You were on your way home to Tate, your boyfriend who eagerly waited for you to come home, every day. Like an excited puppy, ready to kiss your whole face. You’d have to pry him off to get your tasks done for the day. 

Halloween was Tate’s favorite holiday as well, he shared your frustration from the lack of enthusiasm coming from the rest of the world when it came to Halloween. He’d sit there with you, watching you give out candy to trick or treaters, sitting on the opposite side of the porch, out of sight. A smile would always trickle across his face as he watched you participate in his absolute favorite holiday. 

The house was empty, closing the door behind you, you let your bag flop onto the floor calling out for your boyfriend.

“Tate?” You quietly called out. Not a second later, you heard Tate’s footsteps trot down the steps, your boyfriend eager as always to be the first one to say hi to you.

Before you could look up from the floor as you kicked off your shoes, a pair of arms were draped around your neck, pulling you into his torso. His familiar scent intoxicated you as you did what you could to wrap your arms around him. A giggle escaped your lips as his faced buried itself into the crook of your neck. The edges of his lips and nose tickled the sensitive parts of your neck. 

“Tate-” You whispered out as you tried to pull away to see his face, but he wouldn’t let you. There would be times Tate would do this, simply because he would get paranoid one day you weren’t going to come back and simply forget him. He dreaded that day more than anything. It was the one thing that terrified him more than the other side. 

As your touch soothed his growing agony, he pulled away from you just enough to get a look at you. You took the liberty to plant a kiss on his lips, gentle but passionate. Tate kissed you back with the same force. “You took forever.” He pouted as he finally let you go after a few minutes, always dreading the amount of time you two spent apart.

“It was only eight hours Tate- I have to work you know.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up to him. His dimples pressing against his cheeks. when he stared at you for too long. You made him happier than you could imagine. Tate would tell you constantly how much you meant to him, what your sudden appearance in the murder house did to him, how much he was devoted to you. It was true, Tate loved you more than anything, he would do anything for you. 

Even cheer you up on the most boring day you’ve had all month.

“What’s wrong Y/N? is it Y/CWs/N? I know you were on shift with them today, I took a peak at your schedule earlier when I was cleaning around some.” Tate admitted with his arms now loosely wrapped around your waist.

Most of your conversations about the day began at the foot of the entrance, eventually making it up to your room. 

Today was no different. Your fingers intertwined with Tate’s as you both made your way up to your room. “No, they kept to themselves for the most part, I managed to get all my tasks done by myself today.” You stated proudly as you followed Tate into your own room, watching him plop onto his side of the bed, looking up to you with his pouty, bold puppy eyes.

“Then what is it?” He asked, more concerned about what was wrong with your mood today.

“It’s just that Halloween’s coming up and it seems like everyone’s forgotten about it. You know it’s my favorite holiday- yours even, but it doesn’t seem like it’s on anyone’s mind this year.” 

“It certainly is on mine though, just like always.” Tate admitted to you as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and looked to you with those sweet eyes he always got when he saw you. Still, that only stole a smile from you for a few moments, the smile disappearing then soon after again. 

You looked to the floor in defeat, almost being able to hear Tate’s frown. His hand came under your chin, to bring your face up to make you look at him, which you hesitated to, but had no other choice to. “It has to be more than that Y/N, no?” He questioned you as he looked for any other sign of anything. 

Shaking your head, you pulled away from his touch, feeling bad for your attitude, knowing it wasn’t your boyfriends fault, but you couldn’t help what you felt. It seemed like all your childhood memories and the best times were all left to be nothing but memories now. Vanished into the sands of time and the thought of never being able to enjoy Halloween the way you did a decade ago, terrified you. 

“Tate- I’m going to go shower, okay? Then we can take a nap or something, I promise.” You gifted him a hopeful smile, leaning up to your tippy toes to kiss the tip of his nose. Tate offered you the same smile in return, dropping his arms from you and letting you make your way to get ready for your afternoon shower. 

Wiping the evidence from your hot shower, you looked to yourself in the mirror, addressing your face with a pout. There was still no clear evidence of your mood lightening up anytime soon, it seemed like this could only be cured by a nap and some cuddles against Tate.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t been interrupted by in the last hour, which made you suspicious. Usually he’d give you such a hard time while you showered, always either ending up waiting in the bathroom with you, sitting on the counter or on the floor crisscrossed or ended up joining you. Both were actions welcomed by you, no matter if you were arguing or not, Tate couldn’t be away from you for long, instead just sat there in the same room with you in silence, avoiding your eyes like a grounded puppy. 

Were you too harsh on him earlier? You didn’t think so, you weren’t upset with him. Maybe you snapped at him without him noticing. You had a towel wrapped around your body as you opened the bathroom door, looking into the hallway for any sign of him. Nothing. 

“Tate?” You called out into the hallway, there was a moment of silence. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, he couldn’t have left forever. Where was he hiding? Was he hiding?

“In the bedroom!” You heard a familiar voice call out from your room. An overwhelming feeling of relief came over you when you heard his voice. In a better state of mind, you made your way back to your room. Droplets of water trailed your steps, evidence of your fresh shower. “Tate?” You called out again as you made it into your own room only to find pillows laying all over your bed, all covered by your Halloween themed blankets, a bowl of popcorn and next to it all kinds of Halloween themed candy. 

There were orange and purple lights draped across your bedframe, Tate did his best to black out your window with your black blankets, which did darken the room some shades. The vinyl Tate begged you to get when you met initially was on the side of your bed, laying on the floor, ready to play some spooky songs. The more you looked, the more you found. This had to be the most thoughtful thing Tate had done for you so far. 

Your heart melted at the ideas that went around Tate’s head. Movies were sprawled around your room, waiting for you to pick which one you wanted to see first. Tate even managed to pull some of your makeup, willing to be the one you practiced on for the real deal. It was obvious you were obsessed, it was written all over your face. Jumping up and down in place the more you looked, hearing Tate’s laugh as he saw your reaction. “Do you like it?”

“Like it!!??” You cried out as you held your towel in place, it didn’t take you long to close the door and keep looking around. “I love it Tate!!” Leaping towards your boyfriend to wrap your arms around him, the laugh escaped his lips as you pushed him back onto the bed, his body getting some of the shower water in the process. “I’m glad you liked it. I was hoping you would, it took me a while to get everything together.” He muffled into your neck as he squeezed your body against him. 

Not even a second later you sat up, not minding the towel that flopped down as you looked around. It was like a mini Halloween town, if there was a way to your heart, this definitely was it. 

Tate then took a moment to stare at you in awe, pushing himself back up with his elbows, he started tugging at your towel, a familiar mischievous smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes pried away from the screen to look at Tate, his eyes looked back to yours, then flickered down to your exposed chest. 

Though you were more than comfortable with him at your exposure, the accidental flash did make you flustered. “Oh-” You laughed at yourself bringing the towel back up to cover you. 

Any other day Tate would’ve been all over you, unable to keep his hands off of you and maybe that could wait for later on tonight, but he wanted to make sure you were cheered up first.

“I even brought out the pajamas-” Tate explained as he turned his head to grab the pair of matching pajamas you bought last year, both littered with pumpkins and bats. You watched him as he handed you the clothes, a playful smile came across your face. Tate had to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, he was by far the most thoughtful. 

You both took a moment to change into them, as you did, you reached for your towel, drying off your hair as Tate reached for the remote, pressing the play button for the movie to begin playing. As the cries erupted from the speakers, Tate leaned down to kiss your nose, leaving you in a smiley expression. You watched as Tate plopped down onto your bed once again, dressed in the cheesiest pajamas you’ve ever seen him wear. 

The bed didn’t even seem welcoming to you, instead, you shifted over closer to him, mimicking how he fell onto the bed, this time you would fall onto his lap, snuggling your back against his chest. It wasn’t like Tate was complaining anyway, instead his arms instinctively wrapped around you. He cradled you into him as he occasionally reached to grab a few pieces of popcorn.

[noctivagawitch]

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ witchy things I did that worked •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

(se você fala portugues BR, sinta-se livre para enviar DM ou pedir tradução de um post. boa parte vai estar em inglês, para facilitar minha vida e atingir mais pessoas.)

-`🕯 INTRO 🕯´-

Although I'm part of the spiritual community, I'm still quite skeptical whenever I see a spell or ritual, be it online or in books, asking myself if it'd work or not. Wondering if the source of such spells and witchy things were actually being honest. So! Today, I'll be sharing some witchy things (as not all of them were spells IMO) that actually worked! Still, I want to clarify that these things worked for >me< and I'll just be sharing my experience with the things I did that worked best. Feel free to also share yours in the comments!

-`🕯 WITCHY THINGS THAT WORKED 🕯´-

❅ herbal baths and magik baths in general, is some of my favorite things to do. Well, I actually love showers and they are such a scared moment to me, and whenever I need some deep energetical cleansing and boost, they always work for me. However, I want to point out that I wash my hair after finishing the herbal bath. So, I recommend doing this on wash hair days. My favorite combo is thick salt and rosemary. How I did it: ⁍ 1-step, prep: cleansed and energized the materials. ⁍ 2-step, make rosemary water: I didn't use a specific amount, but I'd say 4-5 cups of water and half a hand of rosemary is enough. Let it boil for about 5 minutes and then let it sit for 15 minutes with a cloth on top. ⁍ 3-step, thick salt scrubbing: the scrubbing should be done from your neck to your feet. Don't scrub too hard, you don't want to hurt yourself. Visualize negative energy or the power something/someone has over you leaving your body. DO NOT SCRUB YOUR GENITALIA WITH IT OKAY? ⁍ 4-step, rosemary shower: after the rosemary water has cooled down a bit, start to pour the water over you from your head. Now, the actual rosemary won't go with the water, so you can pick it up with your hands and scrub your body gently with it. DO NOT SCRUB OR WASH YOUR GENITALIA WITH THIS WATER. ⁍ 5-step, clean your bathroom: chances are you've made a mess! �� banishing candles is something that I did when I was on low energy but needed banishing ASAP. I also didn't have all the ingredients I wished for, but it worked with the ones I had! I made a total of 2 candles, and I placed one in the living room and the other in my bedroom. How I did it: ⁍ ingredients and tools: black candle, red candle, dried pieces of garlic, corn hair, thick salt, essential oil (I used lavender cause it was the only one I had lol), mortar and pestle, paper (to protect my table from the wax), candle holder (further explanation about candle holder later), and fire. ⁍ 1-step, prep: cleansed and energized the material. ⁍ 2-step, candle dressing: I applied the essential oil to the black candle, then started to dress it with the garlic pieces. I recommend doing this slowly and dressing each "side" of the candle instead of the whole candle. With the help of the red candle, I lit it up and used its drop of wax to hold the garlic in place. ⁍ 3-step, protection ring: with corn hair and thick salt, I created a protection ring so that the candle would be free to do its job without interference from what I was banishing. I placed it within the candle holder, which was a chamberstick type. Now, I want to say that the protection ring needs to be around the candle, with a chamberstick, it was quite efficient since I could carry the candle and the protection ring mutually without getting the house dirty. ⁍ 4-step, banishing: lit it up and allowed it to burn fully. ❅ warding is one of the best ways to protect your house or personal space. It always works for me, even when done in the astral (I've done this once but it was not intentional, don't ask me how I did it because I have minimal power over my astral/mental projections still). Basically, gather up energy and release it with the most amount of anger possible, like a dog showing its teeth to an enemy, while setting out the intention of only your guides, desired spirits, and positive energy entering. Do this in each room of the house if you wish to ward the whole house, or just in your bedroom if that's better. ❅ repelling unwanted energetic interactions through anger. Well, this one is a bit similar to warding, but it's done when the so said energy or spirit is already there. I've done this in the astral too, it worked thankfully lol. Anyway, it's similar to warding, but now you have a target to which you'll direct the aggressive energy you're gathering. Together with this energy, you'll say words like "get out of here" like, screaming, either out loud or in your head. You'll hunt down the "problem" if needed. My biggest tip is to go full red mode.

-`🕯 CONCLUSION 🕯´-

So, this was it! I hope you guys enjoyed it and that I've brought to y'all something new haha. As you can see, I haven't done much lol, I don't like to venture myself too much, and spells aren't my "it" activity either. Still, even though I've done more things, these were the ones I had the best results. Either way, see you soon <3

[spacesummerchronicles]

Space's Summer Chronicles #1: June 1st

Something incomparable about being a child is the feeling of an eternal summer - a period of time that feels way longer than three months and a half that's always jam-packed with unforgettable experiences, no single day a drag to push through. Then it all starts to change as you get more and more responsibilities and you turn cynical. I miss the feeling of an all-encompassing summer and I've made it my mission to recreate it (or at least come super close).

I'd rate June 1st a 6/10. I slept in, doomscrolled and then met up with my friend to pick up her boyfriend from work and then drove to some magical giant bells to do a spell to guarantee her fortune and peace of mind. Then, we went to the store so they could pick out dinner. Perfectly average day, but it gets a +1 point cause we did all of that while driving my convertible with the top down while listening to summer-ish music so it was a little cinematic.

However. This level of quality won't do anymore. I want variety, I want things to do and I want this summer to drag out, I want to be utterly drained by the amount of things I've done by the end of it. Starting tomorrow, I'm working part-time from home so past 2pm, the world is mine for the taking.

Today I saw the most wonderful skies. At 5.30 pm it was like.... so pale blue it was white but also so many white wonderful clouds, I couldn't capture it properly cause I was driving but you can see it at the bottom of the post.

random thought: everyone is dragging Damiano David for "selling out" and "becoming Americanized" but his love song for Dove Cameron is really beautiful. But then again, I am a shallow bitch.

Rough plan for the summer:

June 1st - June 5th: Nothing planned yet, except one of my friends' birthday on the third.

June 6th - June 14th: Going to Budapest!

June 15th - June 20th: Catching up with friends and having a very alcoholic picnic on the 15th.

June 21st - July 7th: Spending it by the coast! EVERY DAY!

July 8th - July 13th: My cousin's coming to the city so I'll leave the coast and we'll party it up.

July 14th - July 31st: Me and my cousin take on the coast!

August 1st - August 8th: All my friends are coming to the coast to sleep at my apartment and party!

August 9th - September: Undecided

Late September - All inclusive 8 day trip to Turkey!

A small bucket list of things I wanna do this summer:

Decorate my car with rhinestones - My old car was FULLY glammed up and had a space theme and it's been a year since I got a new one so that won't do! I feel like I'm betraying myself by not expressing myself through my car so I will be doing that soon. It will have a ruby theme cause my convertible has red leather seats.

Alcoholic picnic with friends - Something I really miss from my preteen days is just spending the whole day together with my friends doing absolutely nothing so I can't wait for me and them to go have a picnic together, get drunk and just listen to music, draw, write, do whatever for the whole afternoon and then watch the sunset.

Explore a lot of the hidden beaches on the coast - Considering I'll be by the coast for at least 70% of the summer I wanna see it all and see all the cool little spots and nooks that are overlooked by people.

50 - 100 pushups every day - I will be attending Kesha's Tits Out Tour next year and I want my tits to be in top shape so I can wear a mesh top!

Start producing - I've been taking singing lessons for three years and I wanna learn how to produce so I can make my own songs! I think I'll start by doing covers so I can improve, I think I'll start with The Louvre by Lorde, I love that song.

Learn the piano - My grandpa had this synthesizer and it's been in my room for a few years now and I only barely know how to play the vocal topline from Paparazzi by Lady Gaga. I wanna learn how to play piano and I will.

Read my grandparents' books - There is a big box of books that belonged to my late grandparents from the 80s (it's a very small part of their total collection) and I wanna make my way through them all! Planning to read them on the beach.

Write - I love writing, it's emotionally exhausting to me but once I'm done I love what I've written. This goes for everything - song lyrics, short stories, novels. I always have a big fear of starting cause what if my first finished work isn't fully indicative of the person I am but then again.... who am I? I have a feeling that whatever I write will fit into the ultimate idea of me. We'll see. I have to try.

This bucket list will expand soon!

Some pictures from today:

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

Lemuria Pottery- Chapter two

Rafayel x y/n, pottery au? (Rafayel is a potter/teacher)

You decide to take some pottery classes at a pottery studio run by Rafayel...

The next class seemed to come up quickly, my busy week finally getting a small break. I was excited for the pottery class today. Afterall, today was the day I’d make the vase, then it’d dry and we’d paint, and finally pick it up when it’s done. It was a crucial day, a huge step in the process. I got ready with plenty of time to spare today, so I stopped by at a cafe nearby before heading to the studio. The cafe was cozy inside, the lighting just right and the chairs decorated with fluffy pillows. It was a perfect place to eat and relax before class. I smiled at the college aged girl at the counter, giving her my order. She gave me the total and I reached into my purse to grab my wallet, but before I could grab my wallet, I heard a familiar voice. “I’ll get it.” I furrowed my brows and looked up to see the lavender haired man. “Oh, Rafayel. You don’t have to-” I began. 

He interrupted me, waving his hand. “Add a latte to the order please,” he let the girl at the counter know. She nodded, eyeing us before doing that and telling Rafayel the new total. He swiped his card before I could argue. He took the number from the girl and gestured to me to follow him out of the line. “Want to sit with me?” he asked, I nodded, definitely not wanting to be rude. “I didn’t think I’d see you here,” he smiled as we sat. 

“Ah,” I chuckled. “I’m usually a pretty on time person despite last week. I tend to get places too early, so today I decided to come here before class.” 

“Well, you chose a good spot. They sell the best coffee in the city, the atmosphere is unbeatable too. I tried to make the studio give the same vibes, but I don’t think it can even compare to here.” 

“Mm, I think it’s pretty close. Your studio has a certain charm to it that you don’t always get to see,” I reasoned. 

“Oh?” I nodded. 

“It’s cozy in a different way. Cozy, yet still makes you feel like you can be productive I guess. I think if I tried to work here I’d fall asleep, though that could be nice.” 

“It’s definitely a place you can fall asleep in,” Rafayel agreed. I raised my brow. 

“Speaking from experience?” I asked. 

“Came a bit too late in the night,” he pursed his lips. The girl at the counter called out the number and Rafayel stood, telling me to stay put while he gets our order. He handed my drink and food to me before sitting down. I took a sip of the drink. “What do you think?” 

“It’s actually really good, I wish this place was closer to my apartment,” I chuckled. He nodded. A soft buzz interrupted what he was going to say, a frown appearing on his face. “I hate to cut this short, but I’m going to have to take this to go. I have a meeting with my manager and he’s there early waiting for me. I’ll see you in class though,” he explained. I nodded. 

“See you,” I smiled, waving to him as he left the cafe. 

About half an hour later, I walked into the studio, grabbing an apron and getting ready like the rest of the class. Rafayel gave us a few more tips before beginning to make his rounds around the classroom. I began right away, sculpting the clay and reminding myself of the correct amount of pressure to make the wheel spin. I had lost count of how many times I had almost had it- then watched in defeat as the vase fell over. Couples were beginning to leave one by one, completing their project. I glanced at the clock, noticing I only had a few minutes left and my most recent attempt at the vase had just caved in on itself. With a frustrated sigh, I punched the rest of the clay in, needing to restart once again. Rafayel had noticed, glancing at me before returning to help the couple in front of him. They were the only ones left besides me. I bit my lip when I saw them getting up to leave. I carefully moved the clay, squinting hard to try to be precise. This is where it always ended up in failure. I watched as the clay began to once again cave in on itself and frowned, hearing footsteps come over to me. I looked up to see Rafayel and sank down into the stool. “I’m not cut out for this,” I told him. He shook his head. 

“Your design just isn’t beginner's level,” he nodded at the sketch that was on the floor next to me. I nodded. 

“I suppose. Let me just make a small bowl or something really quick and then I’ll leave, I don’t want to keep you here,” I told him. He shook his head. 

“Nah, I’ll help. Give me one second to go grab some water and I can help you out. Get the basic shape you’ve been getting, but then wait on the rest for me,” he instructed. 

“You don’t have to, I’m sure you’re busy,” I argued. He shook his head and smiled. 

“I just have a few things I have to work on. No other classes or anything though, so feel free to take your time,” he said, heading upstairs before I could argue. When he came back downstairs, I had just begun to shape the vase. He nodded, before disappearing into the back, returning with a small mug and placing it on a table nearby, leaving once again and returning with some paint. I watched as he sat down and began to paint, not even realizing I was staring until he interrupted me. “Your clay is about to collapse if you stop there,” he smirked. I quickly returned to my task, keeping a hold of the clay. I got it steady and to the step as Rafayel instructed, so I stopped the wheel. He looked over at me. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded. He stood and came over to my station. “With what your idea is, the rest is going to be easier to do without the wheel spinning, that’s why it’s caving in. Use these,” he lifted a tool, “to get the smoothness you want. You’ll want to use a lot less pressure so that you don’t poke a hole or make it too thin, both of those things will make it collapse.” 

“Ah, so I was making it too thin before,” I gathered. He nodded.

“I’ll show you how.” He sat down next to me and began to work on the vase, checking my design to make sure it matched. I hadn’t realized how close I had leaned into him and the vase, watching him work so I could try until he looked over at me, our noses a few inches away. My face heated up and I quickly moved back. “Got it?” he asked. I nodded and took the tools from him, beginning to work. He returned to his piece, grabbing a paintbrush and beginning to paint. The both of us were quiet for some time, focused on our projects as music softly played in the background. I hadn’t even noticed he’d turned on some music. After some time I had finally finished, looking over at Rafayel. His eyes were focused on the mug, lips pursed slightly into a pout as he painted, head tilted for the angle. He looked in his element. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes when you see someone do something, you can tell it’s their thing. It’s like they were made to do that. Just as Rafayel looked like he was made to be in this studio, under the soft lighting, painting and adding to his art. I only realized I was staring when he turned to look at me, meeting my gaze. “You know if you keep staring there’s going to be a hole in my head,” he nonchalantly said. “Are you done with the vase?” 

“Yeah,” I muttered, embarrassed. 

“You can come watch if you want.” 

“Can I really?” I said, a bit too excited. He smiled. 

“Yeah. Pull up a chair.” I did just that, trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t interrupt him. Being closer, I could actually tell what he was working on, though the colors seemed off to me. It seemed like something that would hold jewelry, a fish tail holding up a platter. The platter seemed to look similar to an ocean's bubbles, but tannish-green. He was working on something in the middle, though I couldn’t tell. The fish tail was a sort of grey-pink. It looked like it was supposed to be something ocean themed, but the colors were weird. “What do you think?” Rafayel asked, sitting back and stretching his neck. 

“Why is it so grey?” I asked, a look of slight disgust on my face without me realizing. He burst into laughter. 

“The color changes after firing it,” he explained. 

“Why? How?” I asked, tilting my head. 

“When it’s fired in the kiln, the chemicals in the glaze interact with the air and change its color,” he explained. 

“Weird. So what color is this going to be then?” I asked, pointing at the fish tail. 

“A deep purple.” 

“No way,” I squinted at him, not believing him. He nodded. 

“It’s true. I’ve sampled all of the colors. This one turns to a dark purple.” 

“Then, does this top bubbly part turn into blue?” I asked. 

“Precisely, how’d you know?” 

“It’s supposed to be an ocean type theme isn’t it? That’s at least what it looks like so it makes sense for the top to be blue.” I shrugged. 

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s a commission from a ceo in a nearby city,” he explained. I nodded. 

“You do commissions?” I asked. 

“Of course. I have to make money somehow. She apparently saw one of my exhibits and wanted something to hold her diamond necklace.” 

“Fancy,” I nodded. 

“If she places it right, the sun could reflect off the diamond and make the top look like it’s shimmering water,” he looked at the piece. 

“Sounds pretty,” I paused. “But also like a really expensive disco ball.” Rafayel laughed. 

“Yes, but a diamond reflects a rainbow pattern, haven’t you seen that before?” he asked. I bit my lip and shook my head. 

“Nope. Never owned a real diamond,” I admitted. His eyebrows raised as he looked at me. 

“Never?” he asked, surprised. I smiled and shook my head. 

“I’m not exactly rolling in the bucks,” I explained. He nodded, but frowned. 

“Wait here,” he instructed, getting up and practically running up his stairs. I was confused and didn’t move, wondering what on earth he was doing. “(y/n)!” I suddenly heard him call. 

“Yes?” I called back. 

“Come up here!” Confused, I did as he said, heading up the stairs. I opened the door and saw him standing near a window. He waved his hand at me. I walked over to him. He sat a piece of paper on the ground and set a bracelet onto it. “See, now you know,” he nodded to the paper, pointing to the slight rainbow on the paper, reflecting off of the diamond. 

“Woah,” I gasped, crouching down to see. “This is real?” I asked. 

“100% genuine diamond, yes,” he confirmed. 

“It’s pretty,” I dumbly stated. He nodded. 

“Now imagine this reflecting on the top of that necklace holder.” 

“It’d be gorgeous,” I agreed, looking over at him, the two of us squatted down and looking at the diamond. 

“Rafayel!” a voice yelled, interrupting us. Rafayel’s face paled. I tilted my head, about to ask him what was wrong before his door opened. “What do you think you’re doing? That piece needs to be done by tomorrow morning, it should be firing already!” a man wearing a suit scolded him. He froze when he saw the scene in front of him. “Who is this?” he cautiously asked. 

“Ah, a student from the beginner’s pottery class. I was helping her out,” Rafayel explained. The man narrowed his eyes at him, clearly biting his tongue. 

“I should get going before it’s too late, I wouldn’t want to miss the subway,” I awkwardly excused myself. Rafayel looked at me horrified. “Ah, I can get you an uber, I believe we still have some work to do on your vase!” He suddenly said, quickly pressing a hand to my back and leading us downstairs. He glanced behind him before he let out a breath. “Um,” I began, not knowing where to start. “Sorry, that’s Thomas, my manager. He’s always like that,” he waved me off. 

“But he said that needs to be done-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand. 

“You should,” Thomas appeared out of nowhere, making Rafayel scream and run behind me. My eyes widened, growing concerned for Rafayel. 

“Should I-” 

“No. Don’t go,” Rafayel pleaded. Thomas sighed. 

“Rafayel, stop holding the poor woman hostage. You do this all the time. Ms. Young is not a patient woman, if she doesn’t get that necklace holder on time tomorrow, she won’t give you the commission money. I apologize about this, and him,” he spoke, directing his last sentence to me. “He’s a terrible procrastinator.” 

“Am not! How do you expect me to work if I don’t have any inspiration?!” Rafayel exclaimed, still standing behind me. Thomas sighed. 

“Rafayel, please,” he looked at Rafayel, who pouted, clearly unhappy. 

“Fine, but I need to make sure (y/n) gets home safe,” he decided. Thomas rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not walking her home. Who said she wants you to know where she lives? And I know you’re saying that because you don’t want to work. I will call an uber for Ms. (y/n) and then I expect you to be working,” Thomas decided. 

“Fiiine,” Rafayel whined. Thomas shook his head and headed upstairs, leaving just the two of us, me in utter confusion. “Such a party pooper,” Rafayel said under his breath. 

“I heard that!” Thomas yelled down, making Rafayel stick his tongue out at him. I chuckled at his childishness. “There’s no need for me to take an uber, I can catch the subway,” I told Rafayel. 

“Nooooo, don’t leave me here with him,” Rafayel whined. 

“But you were just working on the piece,” I reminded him. He sighed. 

“Yes, but now my inspiration is fleeting and I need to recharge. Thomas doesn’t get that,” he explained. 

“Okay, then how do you get recharged?” I asked him. He thought for a moment. 

“Going to the cafe!” he announced, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the door. I figured arguing was useless, so I followed. We ordered a few drinks from the cafe and headed back to the studio. My uber arrived soon after, leaving Thomas to do God knows what to Rafayel to get him to finish. I was exhausted after it all. The actual labor it took to get my vase working, to the weird mood changes from Rafayel before and after Thomas. Rafayel was interesting. Definitely not the serious artist he seems to be online, not that I’ve stalked him or anything. I’d never. 

I couldn’t wait for the last pottery class. I was excited to finally add the finishing touches on my vase, but also a bit sad it was the last one. The subway ran behind so I headed straight to the studio today, getting ready with the others. Rafayel brought us to the back where the glazes were and explained how everything was organized. There was a small piece of clay that had been fired to show what the color would look like, since it would change. There were rows upon rows of glazes and paint brushes, and we were free to use whatever. I somehow ended up taking the longest, wanting to find the perfect colors for my vase. I finally settled on some and headed back to my station to paint them. Painting them wasn’t too difficult, it was actually fun. Rafayel had music playing softly in the speakers, most couples not requesting help with painting. Though he still walked around as usual. “It’s looking good,” he said, nodding at my vase. I smiled. 

“I think so too. It’s exactly how I wanted it to be. Thank you for all of your help.” 

“It’s my job,” he smiled. “What colors did you go with?” he asked, picking up the bottles of glaze I was using. “Oh? This is one of my favorites,” he said, showing me the bottle of blue glaze I had been using. 

“Really? Me too. It’s a gorgeous color. I think it’ll look nice with the greyish color on the bottom,” I explained my vision to him. He nodded, smiling before excusing himself as a couple was finished. I was once again somehow last in line to label my piece with Rafayel. “Can I get your number?” he asked, smiling, then quickly panicking. “I mean for the piece, sorry, well?...no, yeah, for the piece. I can send you a text when it’s ready.” I chuckled and nodded, giving him my number. 

“How long will it be?” I asked. 

“Usually a day or two, they’ll all go in at once, but sometimes they need some extra time,” he explained. I nodded. 

“Then I guess I’ll see you again then, thank you again. I’ve really enjoyed the class.” 

“I’m glad.” I smiled and nodded, heading for the door, almost disappointed this was going to be the second to last time I’d see Rafayel.  

“(y/n)” I heard him call after me. I stopped and turned. He seemed to hesitate before simiing. “Get home safe,” he finally said. I nodded and left the studio. 

Late the next night, I got a text from Rafayel. 

Unknown: hey y/n, its rafayel. Just wanted to let you know your piece is done firing and you can come by tomorrow and pick it up 

Me: okay! Is any time fine? 

Rafayel: yup! 

Me: perfect! I’ll swing by after work to get it. Did it turn out well??

Rafayel: i would say so 

Me: yes! I’ll see you tomorrow! Get some sleep! 

Rafayel: you too it’s late

Me: says the one who decided to text me at 1am 🫢

Rafayel: touche