#plum the glum

[nothinggirlcomic]

Reaper Meetup

bonus

[sosuperawesome]

Matisse "La Danse" Shirts // Glum Plums

[swampstew]

Could I please request Enemies to Lovers with Shanks for the “Oh Captain, My Captain!”? :)

Hello! Thank you for your submission to my event! You did not explicitly indicate in your request whether you wanted this story to be nsfw or not so I left it open ended! You requested Enemies to Lovers with Shanks, and I give you [ HATE ]: “why are you really here? to mock me? to… make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.”

Oh Captain, My Captain Shanks

Warnings: None really, some sexual tension but nothing explicit, GN reader (no pronouns or anatomy used), Shanks being a little shit Word Count: 622 Minors Do Not Interact - you will be blocked.

You were in a shit mood. Recent string of bad luck weighed you down like an anchor, and it felt like a personal thundercloud was looming over you as you brooded in the bar. You must have looked intimidating because not one person approached you; only the bar tender who had been quietly refilling your glass.

You hadn’t asked for it by brand but when all you said was ‘Rum!’ and sat there in silence, he cautiously grabbed a middle-shelf label and kept it near you at all times. You weren’t drinking hard. Maybe had a cup or two, barely sipping the bitter liquid.

Your presence became hostile when a hand softly touched your shoulder. A grating, familiar voice called out to you.

“Whaddy’a want Red Hair?!” you spat venomously. A few minor but mostly healed scars from previous skirmishes with the man felt like they burned with his proximity. “Come to take another pound of flesh?”

Shanks’ normally playful expression was gone from his face. Instead he looked…worried. “Let’s have a drink.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, let’s have a drink. Call it a temporary truce or whatever,” he held his right hand up in surrender.

That was how you found yourself sitting in a corner booth next to the emergency exit with one of the Four Emperors. Your nemesis.

You didn’t have a personal grudge against Shanks like most until you ran into him. He was always too laissez faire for you to trust entirely and that cost you a few times – and no they were not your fault nor instigated by you. Mostly. You scowl at the memories.

“Cheers,” he tapped his mug to yours though you didn’t drink as he sipped his.

“Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me hate you more?”

Shanks frowned behind his mug, “No, that’s not it at all. You hate me?” He pushed his hand through his ruffled red hair, “I know we’ve had our spats but I thought…you liked that? Playing hard to get, you know the whole thing.”

You didn’t say anything, looking at him in bewilderment. He’d been…flirting with you before?

“Anyways,” Shanks shook his head and took large gulps of drink, “I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you could use one right now.”

Why did that make you tremble?

Make a tightness in your jaw loosen, your shoulders rolled back a little and it was almost like a blanket of anxiety or something else was being slowly pulled off you, letting you breathe fresh air for the first time in a while.

“So what’s up? What’s going on in Y/N-land that’s got you all glum like a plum?” he frowned at you, looking genuinely concerned.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

He laughed at that, “Why do people keep saying that?!”

Hours passed in an instant and you were drunk as a skunk, loosely hanging off Shanks’ shoulder as you laughed at the story he told. With his missing arm, you were pretty close to his scarred face and you never really appreciated how handsome he was. He noticed your staring but didn’t say anything, just smiled and continued with whatever didn’t make you hit or try and kill him.

Shanks wasn’t expecting your kiss but he was interested, returning your fiery passion. Your lips were locked in an embrace, pulling back panting lightly as you released years of apparently one-sided loathing.

“I knew you liked me, deep down,” Shanks grinned at you. Before you could retort, he planted another steamy kiss on your greedy lips. “I like you too. Been flirting with you for a while now. Benn said I wasn’t being direct enough but I thought he was full of shit.”

[ultimatewritingprodigy2112]

( @plum-kanojo

"s-sis...you o-okay..?"

OOOOOOOH~? Miss Glum has a lil sis, huh~?

[the-s1lly-corner]

Caine x soft!nice!reader who often gets targeted as much as gangle by Jax but tries to hide it from Caine since reader is really nice and doesn’t want Jax to get in trouble

Ty hope you feel better<3!

Caine x soft!nice!reader

I! Fell asleep as soon as I answered the previous request last night <\3

I have a little less baking to do today than yesterday so hopefully, I'll be able to sit down and answer some more stuff!

Not proof read + admin just woke up and its 6am

Oh how he adores you... obviously hes gonna be absolutely smitten with his partner regardless of what theyre like, because they're his and hes yours. That being said, I think your sweetness is what's the most endearing for him. You take care of him and everyone around you. He has never heard you raise your voice

But lately, hes noticed, you've been more gloomy than usual. Why is that? Are you hurting?

Are you abstracting?

The idea sends fear ripping through his core. Sure, it technically is inevitable.. but,

He stamps out the idea

He wastes no time trying to ask you whats wrong as soon as he finds out theres something wrong

Says something dumb and cheesy like "why so glum, Plum?" Idk

He seems the type

Oh?

Jax is the one behind this?

Normally caine finds jax antics humorous, childish but still funny

But this simply won't do

Now do I think hes going to outright go up to jax and beat him up?

No

Unless jax did something truly unforgivable then caine would not sort to violence imo

Bouncing between caine confronting jax himself (because tbh, as I think about it, what's scarier than pissing off the literal AI ring master of the DIGITAL circus, who can likely manipulate the circus as well as do the IHA stuff) and hyping you to confront him yourself

Both seem so in character

On the one hand the first option matches up with the protectiveness I think caine would have over you. The other option however, does also line up with the idea of him trying to push you to be the best person you can be, including being able to stand up for yourself

Caine just cares for you so much

Sits

Maybe it would devolve into both, with caine stepping in if jax doesnt stop after you talk to him. God forbid he got worse before caine stepped in

Caine starts utilizing the "1000s of all seeing eyeballs" thing, if jax wont stop then hes gonna make sure he doesnt even get the chance to make fun of you; be it stepping in before anything happens or manipulating the IHA you guys might be in to stop him

Let's also not forget the comfort, hes going to really ramp up the compliments and telling you how much he loves you and how amazing you are

You work so hard to take care of him, let him take care of you. Takes you to bed and cuddles with you, playing with your hair as well as constantly chattering away on what all he loves about you

V nice, I think

[mousy-nona]

Two's Company (Three's a Crowd)

In which Lilith makes Lucifer an offer he finds hard to refuse, and Alastor has to figure out just how far he'll go to keep him.

Or, Alastor deals with Feelings, breaks into the Sistine Chapel, and causes an international (inter-Ring?) crisis.

NOTE: A few mentions of Helluva Boss characters in here. I don't watch the show, so apologies if I got anything wrong!

Alastor knew something was wrong the second Lucifer clumped downstairs. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out; his body language was practically screaming I’m in a bad mood! Comfort me! His face was pale – even paler than usual – and he stumbled into three different doors before finally giving up on the whole ordeal and flopping onto the couch. 

With a sigh, he summoned the darkness and willed himself to appear standing over Lucifer, casting a long shadow over his face. 

“Why so glum, old chum?” 

Lucifer turned even whiter and waved him away, rolling to his side to avoid his gaze. “S’nothing,” he muttered.

Odd. Usually he would bite back. Determined to get some sort of reaction, Alastor hummed and drummed relentlessly on the top of his white top hat. “Let’s see. Why is his Majesty upset today? Another duck explosion?” He paused. Silence. “So no adorable toys were harmed in the making of today’s tragedy. Perhaps something to do with Charlie?”

A flinch this time. He was getting warmer. 

“Charlie and the hotel? Charlie and the angels? Charlie and her big break up?”

“What? ” Lucifer bolted straight up, his eyes saucer-big. 

“...a break up that never happened, of course. I had to make sure you were still listening!”

He narrowed his eyes. “You are one sadistic asshole, has anyone told you that?” 

“Constantly,” Alastor said, his voice deep with pride. “So are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or am I going to have to make a few more educated guesses of my own?”

Lucifer sighed, rummaged through his pocket, and handed a piece of paper to Alastor. He’d clearly read it a thousand times over – the thing was crumpled, dog-eared, and folded over and over again. The smell of plum blossoms and gunpowder wafted over him as he carefully read the note.

Come up top. Tonight at sunset, the Sistine Chapel. Heaven has an offer for you. You may be able to fly with the angels again. -Kisses, L

“L…” Alastor’s eyes widened. “Lilith?” 

Lucifer nodded, draping one arm over his eyes. “Lilith,” he said. His voice was distant, faraway. As if he was already out of Alastor’s reach. 

A sharp pain like a gunshot ripped through his chest, so sudden he thought the hunter had come back a hundred years later to finish the job. 

“Alastor?” Lucifer was staring at him.

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” 

Alastor glanced down at the couch – where his hand was clamped tightly over Lucifer’s wrist. He hissed and forced himself to let go, staring at his traitor hand in bewilderment. 

“Are you going to go?” 

“She is my wife, Al,” Lucifer sighed. “And her offer sounds like an interesting one, to say the least.” 

His wife. Of course, Alastor had known Lucifer was married. But it was the first time it had seemed like anything more than a running joke. To think there was someone else Lucifer might belong to… He grit his teeth, his claws cutting deep into his palms. 

Alastor did not share. Never had. 

Especially not with selfish she-demons who abandoned their families at the drop of a hat.

Should have taken better care of your husband, Lilith. 

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral. “What if it’s a trick?” 

“She wouldn’t do such a thing,” Lucifer said, quick to jump to the traitor’s defense. He frowned, as if Alastor was the one in the wrong. “She’s not like that.” 

That pain again. Alastor’s hand twitched, half-tempted to rip his heart out and be done with these annoying, needless emotions for good. He’d managed to live a hundred and thirty delightful years without this pain, amusing himself with deals, with blood and bone and screams. Laughing at the trials and tribulations of lesser demons from a distance, where nothing and no one could affect him. 

Then Lucifer and this damned hotel had come along. They’d changed…things. 

And after all that, Lucifer thought he was going to walk away from all of it? From him? 

The shadows roared to life by his side. Reality glitched, light bent, green lightning flashed, trapping the two of them in a dimension of their own. One of his tendrils shot out, intending to cage Lucifer in further, but he missed and smashed through the top of the couch instead. 

He missed. He didn’t miss. Ever. What the Hell was going on with him?

Your control is slipping, his shadow whispered delightedly in his ear. What next? Are you going to beg? Go all sappy and tell him you –

“Never,” he whispered. 

“Alastor! What the Hell is going on with you?” Lucifer barked, backing away from the gaping hole his tendrils had left behind. Alastor whipped towards him, and Lucifer blanched. “You...are you okay?”

He could see his own crazed eyes, his wild, out-of-control grin reflected back at him in Lucifer’s concern. He took a few deep breaths, getting his voice under control before he said, “I don’t think you should go.”

Lucifer paused, then shook his head. “I have to. I have to know what she wants.” 

“Fine.” Alastor snarled, one of his shadow tendrils snapping uncontrollably at the air. One of them crashed into the couch, snapping it in two, and nearly tore the floor in half. “Do as you please.”

Then he called his shadows, and melted away before Lucifer could say another word.

Unwilling to spend another second under the same roof as that sad excuse for a king, Alastor headed to the one place he knew he could find a kindred spirit – Rosie’s.

The second she saw the look on his face, she wheeled out an assortment of her best treats – ladyfingers, blood pudding, buck’s eyes, and ladies’ navels – and poured him a pot of her finest tea.

“What’s the occasion?” Alastor asked.

“Does there need to be an occasion for me to pamper my friend?”

“Rosie,” Alastor said, and she stopped bustling about. His voice sounded tired even to his own ears, scraped clean of his usual boisterous gentlemanly artifice. “What’s the occasion?” 

“You look like you need it,” Rosie said, her brow raised as she gave him a significant once-over. “To be honest, sweets, you look like shit.” 

“You have such a way with words,” he sighed, plopping down on an empty chair and helping himself to a few buck’s eyes. They squished delightfully between his teeth, but he couldn’t taste anything past the sour disgust in his mouth. Disgust with Lucifer, for running back to Lilith the second she called. Disgust with himself, for caring .

“So what did Lucifer do?” 

He nearly spat out the eye, half-chewed cornea and all. “What makes you think–?”

“Sweetheart.” Rosie leaned forward as she popped a ladyfinger into her mouth. “I don’t pretend to know or understand what’s going on between you and Lucifer, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Of course it’s him. You only get that funny little twitch in your eye when he’s involved.”

It was getting worse and worse. Now he was predictable too. The thread of his sanity bent and stretched perilously thin. Like a sailor being pitched this way and that in a storm, he scrabbled for something, anything to hold onto, and eventually managed to calm himself down by thinking of increasingly creative deaths for the angel. No Lucifer, no more pesky feelings. He’d be able to return to his old self. Impenetrable. Cold. Unfeeling.

You know it’s too late for that, his shadow, his honest half, whispered in his ear. 

I’ll kill you too, he promised the shadow. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he trilled. His voice was strained, he sounded half mad. “Lucifer is meeting his wife on Earth, that’s all. It sounds like she’s trying to take him back to Heaven.” 

Rosie’s cup clattered onto the table and shattered. Shards of glass and Gluttony’s finest tea flew everywhere, but she didn’t even flinch. “Is that possible?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Lilith.”

“Leaving you here…in Hell.” Understanding dawned over her face.

“Please, Rosie! I’ve done quite well for myself for a hundred years without him, I daresay I’ll go another hundred without sparing him another thought.”

One of his shadow minions tottered over with another cup. She accepted it gratefully, poured herself some more tea, and sipped at it, staring at him over the rim. He steeled himself. Rosie always had something unpleasant to say when she was giving him The Look.

“Alastor, I’ve known you since the day you dropped into Hell. And no matter what this odd place has thrown at you, you’ve cut through it all with a smile. This is no different. It’s another kind of trial, to be sure, but you’ve never run away from something before.” “I am not running away ,” Alastor hissed, annoyed at the mere implication.

“Oh? What would you call this then? Having tea with an old friend while someone else comes in and steals what’s yours?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why should I care about what Lucifer does?” 

She scoffed. “There’s no one else here but you and me, Alastor. You can admit it here.”

“Admit what?” The world glitched and the light flickered, turning red, then green, then yellow. His voice was monstrous, split into four different harmonies and overlaid with heavy static. 

Rosie continued on, completely unaffected by his display of power. “You may not love in the same way that the Princess does, but the king has won a special piece of your heart, hasn’t he?”

“I do not lo–”

She cut him off, skewering him with a hard stare. “How long has it taken for you to find him? And do you really think if you lose him, you’ll be able to find someone so important to you ever again?” She laughed and took another calm sip of tea, completely unimpressed by the massive shadow of antlers and teeth bristling in front of her. “I always knew you were destined for great things, but to find a partner in the Morning Star? You’ve outdone yourself this time.” 

Alastor shrunk into himself until he was back to his normal, strawberry-suited shape. “I don’t need him,” he snarled.

“No, you don’t need him. But do you really think you’ll be happy with him gone?” 

Unbidden, a tidal wave of memories came crashing down on him. Lucifer yelping as he accidentally sat on one of Alastor’s unfortunate meal choices, Lucifer destroying every one of his radios in the hotel as revenge, Lucifer gagging when he joined him for dinner one day, Lucifer’s annoyed taunts, Lucifer’s shock when he accidentally-on-purpose snuck in a compliment, Lucifer’s broad smile, Lucifer, Lucifer .

You’ve never run away before. Don’t run away from this. 

“No,” he whispered. Rosie’s smile widened until it nearly cracked her face in two.

“Good. Now, you mentioned they were going to Earth?”

He nodded, struck momentarily mute by the strange emotions twisting and roaring in his chest. 

“I happen to know of a certain someone who might be able to get you there.”

Alastor gripped the grimoire in one hand, ignoring the screaming pain that made itself known every time he stepped forward. The portal had been surprisingly easy to create once he’d gotten his hands on the grimoire. It transported him to the front doors of the Sistine Chapel without a hitch – which was good, since Stolas had turned one of his arms and who knew what else to stone. 

That crazy owl, he thought, there was no need for all that fuss. I was only borrowing it. 

The sun dipped low in the horizon, casting a heavenly orange glow over the grandiose halls of the chapel. He’d never had a chance to visit when he was a human, and a part of him marveled at the beauty of it. Truly a pinnacle of human achievement. 

He would appreciate it more, if his feet didn’t feel like they were slowly being roasted over a pit. The holy power in the building was strong, and he felt it sapping away at his demonic energy like hungry parasites. His arm was growing heavier and heavier with each passing second. The distinct taste of iron tickled the back of his throat.

But Alastor plowed on. Left, right, right, left, until he finally came to a hall much greater than the others. 

Voices, one cold and high, and the other so familiar it made his chest ache, filtered through the door. He put one hand on the flat wood, ignoring the fire that blazed through his body as it did its best to exorcise him back to Hell, and pushed.

Lilith turned around first, her cold eyes widening when she took in his antlers, his sentient microphone, his razor sharp teeth. “A demon? Here?” 

Lucifer turned then, and a whirlwind of emotions flashed across his face. First disbelief, then anger, and finally pure, bright happiness . It made Alastor’s skin prickle. He wanted to bully him relentlessly so he could never smile like that again.

He had always liked dirty things. Liked to smudge and ruin and tear until the good was shattered in two. Lucifer was proving quite a challenge – despite spending the entirety of the universe trapped amongst sinners, despite being separated from everything good and holy, despite his depression and his growing disbelief, there was something about him that was still pure .

Alastor wanted to ruin him. 

“Apologies for barging in without an invite–”

But his big speech was ruined by Lucifer, who took a step towards him, his eyes shining. Lilith was watching them both through narrowed eyes. 

“You came,” he said, his eyes shining. “You actually came.” 

“Don’t read too much into it,” Alastor grumbled, knowing he would anyways. 

“How did you manage–?”

“Let’s get into it later.” Alastor raised his chin, staring Lilith in the eye. It was foolish, he knew. Even without the consecrated ground sapping at his demonic power and burning him alive, he was exhausted from his battle with the Goetic Prince. Roughly a third of his body had been turned to stone. He was in no shape to take on the Queen of Hell.

But he was here now. It was too late for regrets. 

“What are you doing here?” Lilith asked, sounding more curious than anything. 

“Merely an interested party. Please, continue with your meeting. I apologize for my rude interruption.” 

Lucifer drifted closer, his eyes widening when he saw Alastor’s ripped clothes. Alastor straightened, doing his best to look as normal as possible. 

“Apology accepted.” Lilith turned to Lucifer. “So, what do you think of the proposal?” 

“It’s an offer of a lifetime,” Lucifer chuckled, one eye on Alastor, always Alastor. Despite the massive amounts of pain he was in, he felt a sizzle of pleasure crawl up his spine. “I thought I was banished until the end of this world.” 

“Things are changing. Charlie’s little experiment is making the higher ups nervous. They’ve decided they might need your help to set things right. And if you play your part, well…who knows what might be possible?” She held out her hand. To anyone other than Alastor, she might look like the posterchild of sweetness, of love. But he was a master manipulator, and he could recognize a well-crafted mask when he saw one. 

Lucifer closed his eyes, indecision warring across his face. 

“We can both go to Heaven, Lu. We can be together again.” 

“Stay.” 

Lucifer’s eyes shot open and he whirled around to stare disbelievingly at Alastor. Lilith’s gaze shot to him too, the first flickers of anger cracking her mask. Alastor ignored her, keeping his gaze steady on Lucifer.

“Stay in Hell.” He’d rather get fully petrified by Stolas than say the next part, but he knew he must. Alastor the Radio Demon did not run away. Taking a deep breath, he choked out, “Stay with me.” 

If he had been human, the radiance that shone from Lucifer would have been bright enough to melt his corneas. Lucifer stepped fully towards him – turning his back on his wife. 

“I’m sorry, Lilith,” he murmured as he raised his hand, wonderingly, towards Alastor’s cheek. Alastor flinched, but forced himself to stay still as Lucifer ran one gentle finger down a scratch he hadn’t noticed was there. The flesh knitted together, the skin stitching clean. He smiled at Alastor, and Alastor was seized with the strange urge to bite it off. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy where I am.”

“What?” She stuttered, looking uncertain for the first time. “But you hate the sinners! You’re miserable down there!”

Lucifer laughed. “I was miserable up there too. And you know, they’re not all bad.” He looped one hand around Alastor’s waist as they headed for the door. “They don’t leave me for a year without a single word, for instance.” 

The door snapped shut with a satisfying thump on Lilith’s shell shocked expression. 

“Man, I’ve been dying to say that one for months. Did you see the stupid look on her face?” Lucifer crowed. Alastor let out a weak chuckle, struggling desperately to keep his feet underneath him. Now that the danger was over and the adrenaline was leaving his system, it was getting harder and harder to keep his legs moving. The weaker he grew, the more the holy energy gnawed at him. 

With a whoosh, he felt his stone foot go limp. He staggered into Lucifer, who caught him easily. His eyes widened, his hands tightening around Alastor’s shivering body.

“That’s right, this is consecrated ground,” Lucifer swore. “How did you get in, anyways? There should be wards for that kind of thing. And how the fuck are you still standing?” 

“Surely you’re not asking me to reveal my secrets?” Alastor managed, swallowing hard past the stone his stomach had become. 

“Come on, I can’t open a portal while we’re still inside. There’s an exit nearby. You should feel better once we’re off the grounds.” 

Lucifer picked up the pace, heading determinedly towards a small door Alastor had completely missed the first time around. 

“But seriously, how did you get on Earth? You can’t make portals, and you don’t have –” 

His voice trailed off when Alastor held up a blue-bound book with a giant gold moon stamped on the cover. Stolas’s grimoire.

“ Are you insane ?” 

Alastor coughed, and a line of red streamed down the corner of his mouth. “It would have been rather easy, except the imp’s owl-friend happened to be in the room when I arrived. Unfortunate timing, that.”

Lucifer paused, his face going slack with an odd mixture of worry and fascination. “You took on a Goetic Prince? For me?”

“It wasn’t as difficult as I imagined it would be. I’ve faced Overlords with more grit.” Again, he coughed, and more blood started flowing. “But there may or may not be an international crisis waiting for you back home.”

“Fuck the crisis. Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” Lucifer’s concern rankled. He was Alastor, for Hell’s sake. The Radio Demon, the strongest Overlord Pentagram City had ever seen. Even with his power half-shackled, he wasn’t some weak little imp that had to be coddled. “Stolas was too busy worrying about his favorite little pipsqueak to get off more than a few shots.”

Lucifer eyed the blood splattered down his front, but wisely decided against commenting further. As soon as they were off of sacred ground, Alastor started breathing easier. Lucifer summoned a portal and grabbed his hand to fly them into it – his left hand. 

Lucifer yelped. “You – did your hand get turned into stone ?”

He shrugged. “Hand…and a few other things.” Lucifer looked horrified. “‘Tis but a flesh wound.” 

“You–” Lucifer stopped, as if words failed to describe exactly how much of a lunatic Alastor was. “I gave up Heaven for you.” He said it slowly, as if he was testing the words, feeling out their price.

“I hope you’re not getting buyer’s remorse. It’s a bit too late for that.” 

Quick as a flash, Lucifer grabbed Alastor’s neck and wrenched their mouths together. It wasn’t sweet. It was rough and desperate and bloody, and Alastor finally, finally let his instinct go free and slashed at Lucifer’s lips with his razor teeth. The golden blood that dripped from the shallow cuts was, for lack of a better word, heavenly. 

Like burning ambrosia. A cloying warmth that bit and blazed while it healed. It made him shiver with delight. For this taste alone, he would blast through Stolas’s palace a hundred times. 

When they broke away, Lucifer’s eyes were flames. “Never,” he breathed. Then he cracked his knuckles, his six wings flaring wide. 

“But I do think I have a Prince of Hell to visit.” 

[robynlilyblack]

Never kissed a stranger before

Eddie Munson x fem! kinda loser! reader

Summary: After a rather solemn night, y/n finds herself alone and losing hope, but as they say, things happen when you least expect it

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, strangers to love interests, first meeting, first kiss, can kinda be rockstar! eddie, little hurt/comfort, one proofread

A/n: 1.5k words, day 5 of my advent calendar is my first ever eddie fic! Please enjoy x

Navigation | Eddie Munson Masterlist

You nursed your drink, sitting at a now empty table as your friends were up on the dance floor. Friends was perhaps a stretch, civil acquaintances might have been closer considering you were only invited because everyone in your department was. Nevertheless you regretted agreeing, Thursday night at what you could only be described was a some kind of club-pub mashup wasn’t exactly your style

One might ask why you came. Conforming to social pressure could be an answer, but really you came out on the odd chance you met someone. Blind hope really, the phrase ‘it’ll happen when you least expect it’ meant nothing to a dreamer like you, not when something as simple as your bi weekly walk to the shops is filled with some fantasy of meeting the so called 'one' in the chilled section

You should have learned to expect disappointment by now, maybe become bitter that you couldn’t find a date to save you, but you didn’t. Hope kept you going, barely, practically on fumes at this point, but without it you would spend all your days sitting in the shower crying to sappy love songs…

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” 

Your eyes flick up, internally preparing yourself to watch the meet cute at the booth next to yours when you see a man smiling down at you. Eyes widening, you tentatively look around to double check he means you of all people, which he seems to get a kick out of, his smirk widening

“Did you really just say why so glum, sugar plum” you question with a genuine giggle, eyes meeting the gentlemens and you find your heart skipping at his big brown eyes, more so as he chuckles himself, hands finding his jean pockets

“Got your attention though didn't it?” he defends with a wink, his smile dropping from almost cocky to a sweet one, and you swear that one makes the butterflies in your stomach go feral “Can I join you?”

“Huh?” you tilt your head, cheeks heating as you heard the question but didn’t register it right away “Oh yeah of course” you gesture to the seat across from you in the booth but he instead joins on your side, half sitting down when he gives you look to ask if you're comfortable with it, and when you nod he plops himself down properly

“So” he smiles, hand gently nursing his own glass, the quarter of liquid left softly sloshing around but your eyes honed in on the rings that beautifully litter his fingers “Why are you sitting yourself?” 

You turn a little in your seat, drinking him for just a moment before forming a reply. He didn’t look the sort that came here often, maybe he was dragged here like yourself as he looked too much like a rocker, in fact you could swear he is, because no one that pretty isn’t on the cover of every magazine

“I’m not really a dancer” you point to your colleagues who look like they are having the time of their lifes to sub par music

“Your friends?” he wonders, leaning a little closer and the wisps of his long curls tickle your cheek

“No, coworkers” you clarify, meeting his side eye for a second before he looks back at them, nodding with a smile

“Thank goodness, I was about to judge you on your choice of friends for a moment” he jests with a chuckle, pulling away to take a small swig of his drink while you find yourself giggling “So why did you come out with these freaks” he turns back to you, wiggling his eyebrows at the last word like it was some kind of inside joke for himself

“You want the honest to god answer that may make me a glummer plum” you ask genuinely, but can’t stop the little sniff of a laugh that escapes at the end

He grins at that, and you can’t help but notice he shuffles just a little bit closer too “Course I do, then I can cheer you up accordingly” his arm shifts to lay on the top edge of the booth, giving you his full attention, something that makes you relax and feel safe yet your cheeks still feel like they’re on fire as you answer

“I’ve been feeling rather…loney” you confess, pressing your lips together as you look down, not wishing to see his reaction and feel further embarrassment

After a second of silence you chance a peak up, his soft smile hasn’t left, but his head has tilted, clearly trying to process “Why come out with them instead of…” he trails off, cringing a little as he doesn’t want to sound mean

“...actual friends?” you prompt and he nods, lips pressed together, looking thankful you aren’t upset with him “I’m not that kind of lonely” you shrug your shoulders a little, hoping he gets it and after a small squint his eyes widen as so does that pretty, pretty smile of his “I was hoping to find…love, as silly as that sounds” you admit further, and jeez you thought your cheeks were on fire before, it's even worse now

“Oh” he places his glass down properly and stands up, your heart sinking for half a second before he turns back and holds out his hand “I can easily help with that, if you accept of course”

You smile back at him about to take his hand without a second thought when you waver, eyeing him “I have a question” you point at him in what you’d later find out was the cutest thing the he’d ever seen 

“Shoot sugar” he lowers his hand and leans down, one hand on the table the other on the plush of the top side of the booth

“What’s your name?” you wonder

“Top secret unfortunately. Stranger danger and all that sweetheart” he winks pushing off the table and booth to hold out his hand once more

You glance at your coworks for a moment, then back at the man, this was one of those moments you have a choice, be responsible, go home and not out with the random stranger that could easily be some kind of murderer, or be adventurous for once, take the leap of faith and maybe have a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life

“So?” he eyes you playfully, his smile positively beaming as you nod and accept his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar and into the snowy streets

You laugh with him as you both slide and slip a little as he half jogs down the street towards the crossroads “Where are we going?” you question as you come to a stop, waiting for the lights to go green, cars humming as they whisk past 

He looks over at you with a toothy grin, squeezing your hand “On our first official date sugar” he leans down and taps his nose against yours, causing your heart to swoon like crazy, love at first sight suddenly seems very, very real “Got anything specific you want to do?” he raises his eyebrows 

“A few” you reveal “One more than the others” you tell him eyes locked onto his before they slowly flick quickly to his chapped lips

“What’s stopping you?” he’s whispering now, hot breath on your face causing you to feel lightheaded as licks lips

You giggle a little, licking your own before whispering back a soft “I’ve never kissed a stranger before” 

“I kiss too many strangers” he confesses, his cheeks tinting and weirdly you don’t feel jealous, like something about how he’s treating you is as foreign to him as it is you “You know we could both try something new tonight, don’t you think miss…” he extends the syllables, hinting, big brown eyes full of hope

“Y/n” you answer right away, breathless with hoe his lips now ghost yours

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” he states before connecting your lips

It’s softer than you’d thought it would be, sweeter, yet more thrilling than if it was solely fueled by passion. Never would you have thought the pretty rocker boy in denim would kiss like a gentleman, that his hand would cup your cheek, thumb flicking over it like it was the most precious thing in the world 

The lights have turned green more than once by the time you both pull away “Wow” you breathe out, chest heaving gently as you open your eyes to find his lips are plump, pink around the edges and your heart fills with pride that you did that

“Wow’s an understatement sugar” he chuckles, forehead kissing yours for a second before his thumb and forefinger sweetly pinch your cheek “How does it feel to kiss a stranger?”

“Better than I ever could have imagined” you shake your head a little, still in disbelief yourself of how life altering the last few moments have been “How does it feel to kiss a girl called y/n?” you counter back

“Better than I ever could have imagined” he repeats your words with dare you say more conviction “I’m Eddie” he finally introduces himself, smiling fondly as you repeat his words as well

“Pretty name for a pretty boy”

Damn, maybe everything does happen when you least expect it

Thank you for reading ♡

[cloudcountry]

nicknames i have for them (or dont!!)

the fruit key:

licht - raspberry

nokto - blackberry

harr - apricot

jonah - i used to call him pineapple because he was prickly looking on the outside but really sweet on the inside but then his Hamster happened and now i just called him jonah so technically he fits into two categories KJASHDG

ranmaru - peaches!!

jean - plum (because it rhymes with glum and he reminds me of dark purple)

[slvttyplum]

In fields of lavender, she dances, Plum, With eyes like sapphires, twinkling, glum. Her laughter, a melody of coral hue, In every whisper, a symphony anew.

Her skin, a canvas of rose petal grace, A sunset's kiss upon her face. With tresses spun from golden sunbeams, She moves with the grace of flowing streams.

Her touch, a velvet breeze in spring, Awakening blossoms, each heart to sing. In her presence, the world blooms anew, For she's a masterpiece, vibrant and true.

So here's my ode, to Plum so fair, With every hue, beyond compare. In her, the colors of love ignite, A kaleidoscope of pure delight—

Please, I ask, will you sit on my face tonight?

PLEASEEEEE😭😭. that was cute so… maybe

[instruth]

Memories To Light Up The Sky

Memories to light up the sky

Clouds of gloominess and glum

Humors tickle unto the sullen cry

Sour grapes turn into sweet plums

Reflecting with a golden voice

Memories are images of the soul

Joining in the cheers of rejoice

Speaking tenderly to console

To scan for blockages of dis-ease

Shutting down the torrential flood

Treacherous storms to calming ease

Laboring, by sweat, tears and blood

To restore the innate state of harmony

That comes earlier than any memory

To live by the experience of life

Ups, downs, never without strife

Sing, and shout up to heaven on high

Let memories light up before your eyes

Stare afar, hold your breath, do not sigh

Stay still, until the shining stars fill the sky

©Johnny J P Lee

04 March 2024

A Gogyoshiren Poem (20)

Photos Credit, Unsplash Images

[jcqlnsart]

Been playing Baldur’s Gate 3. Here are some sketches!

My bard Plum (named so because she used to be so glum), her guardian, and a very rough Shadowheart.

[allengreenfield]







"The Battle of the Trees"

The tops of the beech tree have sprouted of late,

are changed and renewed from their withered state.

When the beech prospers, though spells and litanies

the oak tops entangle, there is hope for trees.

I have plundered the fern, through all secrets I spy,

Old Math ap Mathonwy knew no more than I.

For with nine sorts of faculty God has gifted me,

I am fruit of fruits gathered from nine sorts of tree —

Plum, quince, whortle, mulberry, respberry, pear,

black cherry and white, with the sorb in me share.

From my seat at Fefynedd, a city that is strong,

I watched the trees and green things hastening along.

Retreating from happiness they would fein be set

in forms of the chief letters of the alphabet.

Wayfarers wandered, warriors were dismayed

at renewal of conflicts such as Gwydion made;

Under the tongue root a fight most dread,

and another raging, behind, in the head.

The alders in the front line began the affray.

Willow and rowan-tree were tardy in array.

The holly, dark green, made a resolute stand;

he is armed with many spear-points wounding the hand.

With foot-beat of the swift oak heaven and earth rung;

"Stout Guardian of the Door", his name in every tongue.

Great was the gorse in battle, and the ivy at his prime;

the hazel was arbiter and this charmed time.

Uncouth and savage was the fir, cruel the ash tree —

turns not aside a foot-breadth, straight at the heart runs he.

The birch, though very noble, armed himself but late:

a sign not of cowardice but of high estate.

The heath gave consolation to the toil-spent folk,

the long-enduring poplars in battle much broke.

Some of them were cast away on the field of fight

because of holes torn in them by the enemy's might.

Very wrathful was the vine whose henchmen are the elms;

I exalt him mightily to rulers of realms.

Strong chieftains were the blackthorn with his ill fruit,

the unbeloved whitethorn who wears the same suit.

The swift-pursuing reed, the broom with his brood,

and the furse but ill-behaved until he is subdued.

The dower-scattering yew stood glum at the fight's fringe,

with the elder slow to burn amid fires that singe.

And the blessed wild apple laughing in pride

from the Gorchan of Maeldrew, by the rock side.

In shelter linger privet and woodbine,

inexperienced in warfare, and the courtly pine.

But I, although slighted because I was not big,

Fought, trees, in your array on the field of Goddeu Brig.

 

— Cad Goddeu, a medieval Welsh poem,

translated by Robert Graves

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS - Chapter 58 - Part 1

BOOK ONE: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning Adult Content*

Samuel Moretti

Noah was right, I loved going to school dances.

Not just because it gave me an excuse to dance with Noah but also because it was the only time I get to dress up like I was going to a royal ball, as gay as that sounds.

I smiled as I looked at myself through my body mirror.

I wore a burgundy tux with a white button-down dress shirt underneath and a black bow tie accompanied with my black dress shoes.

Once I was done with that and satisfied with my look, I headed downstairs where Carter, Carter's date, Jason and Noah were waiting.

Jason wolf whistled at me, jokingly.

"Lookin' sexy."

"Who, me?" I asked, twisting my bow tie in a smug way and they all laughed.

"Now we just have to wait another hour for the girls," Noah said with annoyance.

Haven, Emily and Kaitlyn were getting ready together in Haven's bedroom.

The doorbell rang and Carter opened the front door which revealed my sister's boyfriend.

'Ugh.'

"Are those for me?" Carter quipped as Zach walked in with a bouquet of red roses and a corsage.

"I'm afraid not," Zach said causing Carter to mock frown.

"They're for my smoking hot girlfriend," he said smugly.

I made sure he didn't see me roll my eyes at him.

We ended up not getting a stretch-limousine like Emily wanted, so Zach, Haven, Jason and Emily are going in Zach's car.

Carter's taking his date, Amanda.

I'm driving Noah and Kaitlyn.

I know, not an ideal driving situation but it was okay because we were all friends.

*********

Our high school was pretty big, so prom held there in the big gymnasium.

On one half was round tables beautifully set up with white table cloths and a floral center piece with navy blue and plum colored flowers with a a fake candle in the middle.

Our prom theme was moonlight, which I guessed meant a bunch of blue and purple colors.

There was twinkle lights and a big light up moon strung up.

On the other half of the gym floor was the buffet set up for our dinner 'and the food better be good, I didn't pay eighty dollars for nothing' and the Disc-jockey was in the back corner already playing music through big speakers.

The tables only sat six people, so Jason, Emily, Carter and his date, Amanda and Noah and I all picked to sit together.

While, Kaitlyn sat with her volleyball friends and Haven was with Zach and his douchebag friends and their dates.

I had apologized to Haven for swearing at her a while ago and we were back on good terms but then I made the mistake of telling her that I was going to make a move on Noah at prom and tell him I wanted to be with him and she said I would be making a mistake.

I didn't talk to her after that.

I didn't know what her deal was.

Part of me thought Zach talked crap about Noah and maybe that was why Haven was so against him.

I didn't know but I wasn't going to let her lack of support stop me from being with Noah.

So, when the buffet was cleared and people were on the dance floor and the music was triple the volume, I walked up to the glum and bored looking Noah.

Who looked sexy as all hell in his black tux, might I add.

I stood in front of him and he looked up at me from his hand that was holding his face.

I held my hand out.

"I don't dance," he told me.

"Learn," I wasn't taking no for an answer.

I grabbed his free hand and yanked on it, luckily he helped me out and stood up.

"Sam, I can't dance," Noah complained as I led him towards the front of the crowd where the stage was.

The music was blaring through the speakers that stood near us, so I had to lean close to Noah and shout into his ears to get him to hear me.

"I didn't convince you to come to prom for you to mope around. Dance with me."

Unfortunately, this generation doesn't dance as much as grind on each other and where I brought him in the crowd, it was like a grinding orgy but this was my prom too and I wanted to have fun.

Plus seeing Noah in his tux... oof.

I was done being friends with him.

I wanted more.

I was feeling bold that night.

Turning around, I grabbed Noah's hands and placed them on my hips.

My back was against his chest and I moved my hips along with the music, pressing myself against him.

Noah tensed up at first but eventually got into it as he gripped onto my waist.

I didn't even care about the others around, I just wanted to bask in this moment with Noah.

About ten minutes in, Noah nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck.

At first just rubbing his nose and lips along my skin, teasingly, then he kissed my neck.

My breath caught in my throat and he kissed my skin again.

Noah kept on kissing, soft and sensual and delicate.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I grabbed his wrist, dragged him away from the dance floor and though we weren't supposed to, I brought him down a hallway that led away from all the people.

It didn't take long to find where I was headed, the storage closet.

After shutting the door 'it astonished me that it was always unlocked' I pushed Noah up against the shelves and eagerly started kissing him.

Noah responded immediately, cupping my face with his hands, slipping his tongue passed my parted lips to take over.

I loved when he did that and I felt my whole body run hot.

My head feeling dizzy with bliss.

[writer59january13]

February 13th, 2023 - old man winter gave a one...two punch

Overladen snow covered crackle and crunch though, this skeptic owned a doubtful hunch that such 24/7 round the clock whether coverage

would make laughingstock of forecasting

how Jack Frost feigned being out to lunch,

whereby inaccurate weather forecasters outsmarted courtesy Mother Nature, where snowfall accumulation tallied one for the record books, a veritable blizzard found meteorologists to scrunch

erroneous reports and quickly

retract how surprise Nor'easter did quickly captcha and wallop unsuspecting sleeping out of towners whipping surprise out figurative sleeve when dziadek mróz (Belarusian: Дзед Мароз) in the Belarusian language in league with Jackie Frost, both personifications getting last laugh

cuz women feel snubbed, shortchanged,

excluded, and being bossed around feeling pinched at emotional, physical, and spiritual cost with million plus women marches

that did exhaust,

yet brought more equitable treatment,

and now risk being lost

in space at the outer limits

of the twilight zone or tossed

into the maws of Earth vis a vis

donning miner for a heart of gold, where a frayed life line offers tenuous hold nonetheless, despite risks to life and/or limb females can experience em bold dinned journeying

exposing them to in extremis cold

and worthy bets

at gambling halls upon casino bluffing,

thence, slapping (with poker face)

upon table a winning hand

abruptly forcing game to fold

grinning ear to ear while she scoops up gold repudiating ugly rumors stereotyping women, within which many other arenas

the devastatingly constricting mold

now upon many another proving grounds non verbally, smugly,

and proudly assert" I told you so" garnering, inviting, and

kickstarting kudos where,

their overdue praiseworthy virtues extolled

which hard fight now pits

more gals to enter the scrum letting actions speak louder than words as bragging rights allow them to keep mum though insinuating rightful opportunity to whisk plum ming access, where once (and still

to a lesser degree)

men didst unfairly prune

and hurl cruel names like hey “scumbag," and/or other unflattering brickbats

versus increasing plaudits showered from on high spelling victory

toward equality effacing glum

scowl into smile breaking out

finding more men grudgingly

bestowing deserved accolades re-evaluating experiencing

the fairer sex lobbing smart aleck nuggets of wisdom, now

despite being a youthful looking

roam'n lxv year old married heterosexual underscoring, befriending opposite gender

making ladies in waiting

tubby a worthy chum

now, this bum seeks Alma Mater dames

and graduates of

Hard Knocks School Alum.

[bellocan]

Words I Can Never Take Back (Pt. 2)

Good morning, love! If it’s gloomy outside and you’re feeling like a glum plum, let’s drive away the melon-choly 🍉. Pear 🍐 up with me and we’ll make things as peachy 🍑 as they can be! You are the apple 🍎 of my eye, mon chérry 🍒. Orange 🍊 you glad to know that you are destined for grapeness 🍇? Honeydew 🍈 you know how much I love you? The fruits of your labor are always appreciated. Missing you. You are my moon, my stars, my universe.

[cannibalisticskittles]

thinking about amity's dad. the way they interact. he is not overly affectionate. not because he is stern, but because he has never thought to behave otherwise. his affection is shown in smaller, occasional words and actions.

like, he doesn't usually give hugs, though he will accept them readily -- and would even give them without question if requested. but amity does not request this. because it feels like asking that would be an imposition.

he doesn't often say 'i love you,' and thoughtful gestures.... well. they happen sometimes! but when amity comes home after months on the road with the caravans, he's nearly always holed away experimenting, and won't come out to greet her when she arrives. it would mean A Lot to her if he came out and welcomed her home, but she does not express this, and he remains blissfully oblivious.

drops pet names often, tho. rhymes em, too, when he can. bc it's fun. "why so glum, sugar plum?"

i think she also gets a lot of 'sunshine's bc of her eyes.